Monthly Archives: June 2024

Our Delusion that This Life is Supposed to be Heaven

Jesus healed many people, more than the Gospel stories name. But those same people eventually died. And he was not everywhere, so many were not healed. When he said “Your faith has healed you.,” it wasn’t their faith in healing, but their faith in a God that is for us and with us.  But that is the same God that let Jesus die on the cross. That is the same God that let Jesus feel abandoned on the cross. But Jesus’ faith ultimately was in a God that loves and wants the best for us in eternity.  The best is being like Jesus who  ultimately trusts God and says, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.”  

American faith often is that God should make us healthy, wealthy, and happy here on Earth.  But our journey here is not heaven, it’s  a school. It’s a journey from the dependency and need of a baby  being transformed into the ability to love another and ultimately all others more than ourself.  That takes faith not in healing, but in God’s love for us that will ultimately be grace for that journey.

Jesus had to take that same journey. In fact his journey is the map for ours. 

I have experienced and witnessed healings. But my mother died by inches over fourteen miserable years with Alzheimer’s.  And I was helpless to make it better no matter how hard I tried and  toward the end I neglected her because I couldn’t bear it. Ultimately I was able to be with her as she died for eleven days and witnessed not healing, but some sort of peace. When my husband of almost sixty years was dying, I was able only through grace to take care of him and to not lose it myself. That part of the journey was a gift for me through giving me the grace to love him in ways I did not think I was capable of managing. And God gave me the grace to let go at he end.  He died from many health issues, but not from the one we feared most. Suffering and sorrow and growing in love in and through it and ultimately like Jesus trusting in death, our own and our loved one’s, is part of the journey of the school of life. We follow in the footsteps of Jesus.  The healings teach us that when we are not healed, it’s part of both the learning to trust God and growing in love and in letting go of our delusion that this life is supposed to be heaven.

Old Age Has Its Wisdom, but Younger Generations Start Off with a Lot of What We’ve Learned: We Can All Learn from Each Other

Idealists are in danger of never being satisfied, which in one way is a good thing since we fight to make the world a better place for all, but it plays havoc with marriages. If you are an idealist without an awareness of the down side, listen up! ONLY with a relationship with a power wiser than you (GOD/ALLAH/BUDDHA/ YOUR GREAT-GRANDMOTHER) will you recognize when you are thinking about ‘trading up” that it may mean you will just have to start over (and possibly over and over, etc.) to recognize that you are unrealistic about life and relationships. Believe me, watch for signals of this, in case that higher power is trying to give you a much shorter way to “growing both wiser and more able to love.” The search for the perfect person is futile. There is no such thing, including yourself. Life is a journey with both challenges and grace (if we are open to it) to become the more loving person we were created to be. (This doesn’t mean you put up with abuse.) God is alive and well and still doing the Jesus thing if we are aware of it. That can make a huge difference in the journey to becoming the best (imperfect) person we were created to be.

NEW INSIGHT

Recently my eyes were opened to the reality that someone who is tuned into the journey of grace going on in both their own life and in their generation can know in their forties what it’s taken us in our eighties a lot longer to learn! I may know some things from those years of learning that they don’t, but they are way ahead of where I was at their age. Yes, we may have gained some wisdom on our life’s journey that even a spiritual and wise forty-year-old may not have yet. But they started from a different place than us old guys did. If they were open to wisdom that our generation and some after us has learned, they are wiser at forty than we were and may not be far behind us where we are even now. Listen to them and put what you’ve learned together with what they know. Both ages have a lot to give to each other.

Age and Loving

When you have a lot of children, you end up with a lot of grands, great-grands, and a great-great grand when you are turning 87 years old. The world is so different now and at my age I’m limited in money, modern skills, knowledge, and strength to be of much help to any of them. Sometimes it simply breaks my heart and I sit and weep for them and for me too, because I love them all so much that I hurt for and with them and am overwhelmed by my helplessness. And they don’t really know how much I love them, because their lives take up all their time and strength.

I used to take my grands and the older great-grands to the Science Museum in Nashville every few weeks. So many good memories, but they don’t talk about those times, so I sometimes think they don’t remember them or know how much I love them. It breaks my heart.

But this week I got a few moments with Hannah who is my grandson Jake’s dearest love. And she told me that he talks about those trips to the museum often. I am shedding a few tears of happiness as I write this, because that means so much to me. Jake is specially tender hearted. He even cooked my favorite “Shrimp and Grits ” a couple of years ago at Christmas for me at our family gathering. Hannah is a lot like me I think, but I haven’t had much chance to get to know her because Christmases are wonderful, but chaotic with little one on one time.

Some of my children and grandchildren are divorced. And sometimes their estrangement means I have to choose between them and their ex’s whom I had come to love. Marriage is the hardest challenge we have and when they end nobody outside them can judge either partner because relationships are so complicated and difficult in different ways for different people. So ultimately I have had to choose whom I remain close to and frankly right or wrong, if forced to choose, my family will be my choice. Partly because right or wrong, I am part of why they are who they are. But I never stop caring or praying for those I came to love because they loved my child or grandchild.

The older we are the more people we love and the more we hurt and worry and feel helpless when they are hurting or struggling and lost.

The life, losses, and suffering of Jesus are the blueprint of a life of learning to love and the pain that goes with it.

I cannot imagine how anyone makes it without experiencing and clinging to that Love of God for each and every single one of us fleshed out in Jesus.

The words “I am weak, but He is strong.” sum up my life. Sometimes I lose touch with that Love that is the grace to persevere in loving when it’s so painful. But I know it’s there for me to reach out again and hug it close and draw strength even through tears so I can keep caring and loving even when I am helpless to help those I love who are hurting. I KNOW God loves them too, just as much as God loves Jesus!!!!!!!! But I also know the journey is hard and even knowing with all my mind, body and spirit that we are tenderly and unconditionally loved it can seem overwhelming. But I do believe that prayer makes us junior partners with God and no matter how helpless I may feel or be, I can still pray. And though my list is long and I struggle with forgetfulness, God knows who is in my heart and they are always in His.

Sometimes It’s Lonely Being Weird

I don’t have much to give, but what I do have, I’d like to share with you. I’d like to share my own journey, but not because yours will be the same. What I’d like to pass on is that life is a journey and the only constant is change. So, the idea of being open to  a new stage of your journey opening up for you is something I hope will ease your transitions.  And sometimes the hardest parts are the fertilizer for growing more loving.

I grew up in a religion, but fairly early on questioned a lot of it. Because I didn’t know any better, I connected and limited the idea of a God to religion so when I became disillusioned with religion, I stopped believing in God.

Since I just naturally look for possibilities to make life better, I figured it was up to us to make our world better if there was no God. I became active in the Civil Rights movement to help give African Americans equal rights. I tutored children in a ghetto school who could not read and worked with a Catholic organization that was trying to get better jobs for African Americans, though I was no longer Catholic or Christian. After a while I realized that because of prejudice, learning to read would not actually give black children or adults a chance at better jobs. 

Meanwhile in my group of educated, supposedly Christian, white friends who were lawyers, doctors, and scientists, I witnessed not just disinterest, but a fear of and even hate many had for African Americans who were trying to get equal rights. Obviously neither religion nor a college education overcame prejudice.

Then, when Martin Luther King’s March on Washington came through Nashville, I was answering the phones in the NAACP’s office while the buses were stopping there. A number of young men, who belonged to organizations that were much more militant and violent than Martin Luther King’s, came into the office. Their obvious hatred of me and bullying , just because I was white, were scary. I went home convinced that we were going to have a bloody race war in America. And that terrified me for both my own children and for those sweet, friendly young black children I had tutored.

Martin Luther King and his Christian non-violent movement saved us from that.

I realize now that his willingness to not only devote his life to helping others, but to suffer and risk dying for them, came from his relationship with Jesus. He believed Christianity was about experiencing the love of God first hand and passing it on, even to our enemies.

I need to explain why, as someone who lived in the South most of my life, I was not consciously prejudiced. My father was an intelligent man, whose personality made him open to questioning the status quo. It was the hand he was dealt at birth, even though most of his family were not like this. He was a newpaperman with an insatiable desire for knowledge. He devoured history, philosphy, science, literature, and theology. He was also a frustrated idealist, who wasn’t always able to handle the gap between reality and his vision of how things should be without sometimes dulling the pain with alcohol. Idealists are not perfect, not even ones like Martin Luther King, who cheated on his wife even though he knew Jesus and was willing to die for others. But idealists are frequently willing to spend and lose their life trying to make life better for the powerless, including idealists who because of Jesus actually try to not hate those who hate them. So, I wasn’t taught to hate either side, even after our house was bombed when my newspaper editor father supported an African American for a place on the school board in the early fifties in Houston, Texas.

As I became more aware of the hatred on both sides of the race issue, I decided that we needed ways to change people’s attitudes, not just laws. So, I went back to college to study psychology. And though I eventually realized that many people don’t see a need to change, psychology helped me in my own personal struggle to cope with the gap between reality and the ideal.

In my personal life at the time of my search for ways to help people become more loving and open to those different from themselves, I lived a life of pleasures available to those who were affluent. When one of the couples in our social group decided to give up their sizeable income, their home, and lifestyle to work full time for Campus Crusade for Christ, that got my attention. They had always seemed to be  rather average well to do American Christians. But this was a whole new ballgame and though I didn’t understand it, I envied anyone who believed in something enough to give up all the perks of being affluent Americans.

The key to their change seemed to be that they had taken a leap from just attempting the minimum love in the ten commandments, into “Here I am, God. I am yours.” This opened them up to a growing give and take relationship with an accessible Jesus who fleshed out the unconditional love of God. Not an easy leap for a “show me” kind of person like me. But several women I met from Campus Crusade spoke about new self awareness and the grace to change. That revived a tiny bit of my lost hope that people could change.

A warning here: Everyone’s journey is unique. Humans are not cookie cutter beings. And everything from inborn personality types, to genes, family traditons, life experiences, wounds and gifts, and current trends in our particular culture will influence our personal journeys. The only inherent similarity is that a journey involves accepting a need for growth through change.

Along the seeking phase of my journey I had read the Bible all the way through. I found contradictions that seemed to me to be because of human evolution. Not having studied the Bible much, a lot of the claims of the New Testament definitely sounded against the laws of nature, as we currently understood them anyway. And when I asked my church going Christian friends about miracles, they didn’t seem to believe them relevant in the present times anyway. Since the New Testament was about miracles and changed lives with people becoming willing to die for what they believed God wanted, I have to admit that I felt some disappointment.

Another warning: In retrospect about my taking a leap that changed my view and gave me a source of love and strength, I can see how slowly and carefully God prepared me for that leap. There is again a unique journey with tiny steps that prepare us for the leaps. And someone pushing us either too soon or to a decision that is not part of our own journey, will not work for us. Studying psychology and having some therapy helped heal wounds I did not know I had. Wounds that kept me from being able to believe I was loveable. I’m a theory person, who is mostly oblivious to the concrete world around me. Abstract issues and theories were very little help in my role as a wife and mother of five children. I felt hopelessly inadequate all the time. Feelings of inadequacy keep us so focused on ourselves, that we have nothing left for loving others. Being accepted with compassion when I admitted I didn’t think I was capable of really loving anyone was the beginning of a new important stage of my journey. Knowing with BOTH mind and heart that we are loved just as we are is what frees us to begin growing more loving all our lives. It’s not a smooth journey even then, because there are deeper wounds and even new wounds that have to be healed to make our next leap in loving. But there are lots of sources helpful for healing. Growth is a life long process. And for all any one knows for sure, it might be longer than that!

As far as religion goes, the mystics of the world religions, both Judeo-Christian and others, agree that everything is one. So, whatever we do affects the whole. The mystics are the people whose lives are focused on seeking and encountering aspects of God. But, others also experience that oneness. Once I had experienced it, I found it’s a reality that undermines my justification for rejecting others different from me, ultimately even those that hate or hurt me.

I finally realized that either thinking I can know God fully or that I know there is no God is hubris. Even Einstein saw that. As close as I can come to describing God is Love. And for me, Jesus is not only a model of how to grow in love, but an actual expression of that Love that can become the source of healing, freeing, strengthening, guiding, and Love growing in us. He has also been my source of faith for and experiences of what we, in our ignorance, call miracles.

Though I searched in many places in and outside of religions, I found God only when I was ready to risk saying, “Jesus, if you are who you claimed to be, the Love of God expressed for us, then I want you as my Savior and Lord.” And for me that meant, “I want you as my guide, my best friend, as my go to source of the grace of Love,  healing, wisdom, strength, comforting, forgiveness, and growth in loving myself and all others.” In other words, a source of Love/grace that can save me from my selfishness.  I have no way of knowing how anyone else’s journey will be nurtured.  I know and love people who have come to believe as I do, that the purpose of life is learning how to truly love unconditionally, but they learned this through other ways.  I share my process in case it helps anyone else, but I don’t believe it’s the only way to grow in Love.  I do believe that however we come to believe in and experience unconditional love, it has to be with both mind and heart. 

Jesus gives God a face. The God who is way beyond understanding gives me a glimpse to help me trust that all of us tiny people, who are floating helplessly in a giant universe or perhaps even more universes, matter. We are tiny, but integral, parts of the whole.

This was something that made a difference for me… a beginning of a journey that has involved a lot of scary opening up to trying to understand and love people different from me……including fundamentalist Christians……and people whose prejudices I don’t share …..those who scorn my faith…. and those who hurt me or who cannot forgive me for hurting them.

It is not easy being weird. And as an evangelical, “born again” Christian and a liberal Democrat, who once danced for sheer joy at the awesomeness of God when reading a book describing evolution in the micro to the macro of our universe; as a person with several generations of intelligent, spiritual, and loving homosexual partners in my immediate family, as a person who recognizes truth in metaphors, so doesn’t take all the Bible literally, but has experienced the presence of Jesus, sheer overwhelming joy from the Love of God, and too many “miracles” to limit God in anyway, I definitely am a rare bird…..in other words…..weird.

No two journeys are exactly alike. And they call us to change often along the way.  And even with grace that’s not easy. But the joy of knowing we are all loved at each stage, even when we falter, makes it worth the struggle.

The Most Difficult Challenge

My mother was widowed at fifty-five.  Going back to business school she ended up teaching there for ten years.  She lived in Houston, Texas and when she retired at sixty-five she was finding the big city traffic and distances a challenge. So, she came to live with us for a year while we built her a cozy two-bedroom house next to ours out in the country.  She lived there three years but was becoming forgetful and a hazard to herself and the house, so she moved back in with us.                                            

We were now dealing with a financial challenge because of a recession that hit right after we moved our architecture office to Dickson. So, both of us were working. I was teaching first and second grade in a small rural Catholic School. So, for those two years, I took her with me and let her work with children needing extra help with reading.  She loved it and they loved her. But then I started working at Fort Campbell at a better paying civil service position and she was becoming too confused to be alone, so we used her Social Security to hire someone to stay with her during the day.  Medical tests at the time did not show why she was having so many mental issues. I took a course in nutrition at Austin Peay hoping I could find something that would help her, but nothing did.

 Then, she started getting dressed in the middle of the night and falling down our steep driveway that went through the woods.  So, we wired our nine doors shut every night, but then she began to cook at two and three in the morning and leave things burning on the stove. Finally, my husband insisted we needed to put her in a nursing home where she would be safe. I did not want to do this, but we went to counseling, and I finally agreed. At that time Medicare made up the difference between her ability to pay and the cost. She lived seven more years, becoming physically disabled along with more mental issues from what now was known to be Alzheimer’s. I was broken-hearted, but at this point my salary was our main support.                                                                            

The Sunday evening after we put her in the home, I was driving back from my job as Director of Catholic Religious Education for the Chaplain’s Division. My church didn’t have a Sunday evening service and I was trying to think of somewhere to go to a Worship Service for spiritual support. As I drove down a country road on the way home, I saw a very old small church with people going in and thought about stopping there. But they were all black people and I thought I might be intruding, so I continued as it began to drizzle. A little way farther along, there was an elderly black gentleman walking toward the church in his Sunday go to Meeting suit, so I stopped and asked if I could give him a lift back to the church. He accepted and as I turned around toward it, he invited me to join them. I decided it was the Holy Spirit at work and accepted his invitation. At the service the choir sang a song about some day understanding all the hard things and it hit me that they had been struggling with all sorts of serious hardships for two hundred years. It gave me a perspective, since I had seen how happy a black woman in her nineties was at the nursing home and learned she had lived alone in a one room shack with no electricity or water and a wood burning stove for both heat and cooking for the last ten years. Now she had a comfortable bed, warm room, three meals a day fixed for her, a shower, people taking care of her, and even television.

 As seven years passed mom died by inches and had become mostly unresponsive when she finally ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. She was fighting for her breath and was terrified.  I was praying that God would help her somehow and as I prayed she stopped gasping and crying and started staring toward the blank wall at the end of her bed with a puzzled, but calm look on her face.  I don’t know what she saw, but it stopped her panic and she eventually drifted into a deep sleep and died a few days later. After two funerals, one in Dickson and another in Houston next to my Dad’s grave, I was waiting in my car to meet a friend. I was crying and more or less mentally yelling “WHY? WHY?” at God. I decided I needed to get a grip before my friend came and went into a small shop there. The first thing I saw as I walked in was a card with just these brightly colored words across it saying, “Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.”             God is in the timing.

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