Depression - with more added

As she lifted her head the sour smell of stale sweat from her pillow arose. But it was too hard to move much more and so she lay back down in desperation. She didn’t feel as if there were any good reason for her to stay in bed, but she just couldn’t move. And that was what she had felt for a long time.

At least it felt like a long time. At this point she wasn’t sure how long. She vaguely remembered happy times. But it was as if those happy times were through ten feet of cotton candy and her life now. She could see herself laughing in some photos, but couldn’t figure out what that felt like. Yes, she had been happy, but not in a long, long time.

Her living room and kitchen were immaculate. But that was because she didn’t have the energy to leave them messy. When she ate – everything was cleaned and put away before she fell asleep. And she didn’t buy any food that might go bad. The dried milk she kept on hand didn’t taste all that good when she made it up for the meal – it was supposed to sit – but when she had the energy to eat and clean up she wanted to do it then. If she waited any time her burst of energy would be long gone and then there’s be the dishes to clean and they’d sit. She’d done that before when she’d tried to wait. And the dishes would sit with the big round eye of a plate accusing her of not doing anything and her mind quivering with the blows of unmet expectations. And she just couldn’t face the unwashed dishes one more time. So she made the dried milk up and drank it before it had cooled and as the horrid taste went down – thought – at least I got something in my body one more time.

And at times it was a moment-by-moment decision to keep on existing in such pain. She’d started treatments but so far none of them had worked. And she lived in pain. And she could no longer remember what it had been like before she lived in pain. And the treatments – try this drug and it will take two to six weeks before it works – you’ve been taking it for eight weeks and there’s no change, then stop taking the drug and in two weeks will try another drug – seemed futile. And every day longer until each day seemed like years.

They called it depression – she called it pain.

And she lived with it.

Today she was curled up in bed. Her book club was at noon, but she hadn’t read the book and she wasn’t sure she could go because she didn’t want people to know that she hadn’t read the book. It was six in the morning and the book had arrived. The package was sitting next to her bed. But she’d only opened it enough to see the spine and then had let it lie there, accusing her, saying she should just reach out and begin reading it, letting her know how worthless she was since she couldn’t reach over there. Instead she tossed and turned and even when she wasn’t looking at the book the thought of it ate at her, the acid of not getting it done rising up in her throat and burning so that she couldn’t sleep, but couldn’t pick up the book.

And she thought – I could call Angie, but I’ve already made too many excuses for not reading the books. And I’ve called her too many times. And if I keep calling her she might not want to hear from me again. And I don’t want her to see me like this. And maybe I just won’t go, but I’ve missed too many meetings already. And it’s too early to call her, but I’ve missed too many meetings, or I’ve been to them and not read the book and I just can’t do it, but I don’t want to miss the meeting and the book is sitting right over there so if I start reading now I could at least pretend to know what the book is saying, but I can’t concentrate enough to read and besides my comments aren’t as good as those of the other people and can’t be since I haven’t read the book and the books been sitting there for two weeks but I just haven’t had the energy, but I’m perfectly fine so I should have read the book and then I wouldn’t have to call Angie and cancel but I still haven’t cancelled so I could go but then I’d be unprepared and everyone would see what a mess I am.

And it was six-fifteen in the morning and she did not have the energy to get out of bed or to grab the book and yet she was tossing and turning and wondering if she could get out of bed today.

Once upon a time she thought that she would have thought nothing about getting out of bed. And she wondered why it seemed so hard to do, but it did. She was wrapped in a cocoon of frustration and anger and despair and it was torturing her to move and sit up and swing her legs over the bed and she dreaded the day and what would come and what would happen and whether she could actually do something. And she thought, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment today so I don’t need to actually go to the book club. I can tell them I’m waiting and they’ll understand and then I don’t need to read the book, but I do want to read the book and I do want to keep up with things, but how can I keep up with things when I can’t concentrate on anything and it takes so much energy and I’ve been up since 6am and I just can’t get out of bed and I used to be able to get out of bed in the morning but it seems like so much work.

And then her thoughts became, not incoherent, only of the pain. At times it was throbbing like when she’d had a migraine, at other times it was just there as a haze that covered everything so that she could barely take a breath and those times she dreaded the return of the throbbing with every movement and noise and during the throbbing she dreaded the return of a persistent ache so that neither was a relief from the other. The pain remained.

It sounds so simple, she thought, when the pain had gone. It sounds so simple to get up and do something. And yet all I can do is lie there until it passes.

And it was around eleven so she got up and called Angie to tell her that she was too sick to go to the book club.

And she lay back down to rest. How long those sessions lasted was irrelevant. Five minutes/ Five hours/ Five days she was in pain. And she could see no end.

She’d heard that some in her situation were tempted to suicide, but that held no attraction. Could she be certain that it would relieve the pain? Could she be certain that it would be final? Might not she wake up to even worse – though she couldn’t imagine how – pain? The questions ran through her mind, but found no purchase as all available centers were taken up by pain and longing for something different, some escape.

If there was a light at the end of the tunnel, it was a train coming to meet her. And the tunnel had no end.

She was in a pit. And the sides were soft so she could get no hold. And when she tried to pile the dirt up so she could stand a little closer to the top all it did was fade into the rest of the dirt and she felt soiled and unkempt and still couldn’t see any way out. No glimmer of light appeared at the top of the pit whether it was day or night.

There were times when there was neither pain nor agony – they were few – but they were there. But those times she felt nothing. And she wondered, she wondered then, if she were still alive.

In the nothingness that was in-between the pain she couldn’t imagine what it was like to go through life feeling something other than that pain. And when she wasn’t feeling anything she felt dead. And while being dead was comfortable – more comfortable than the pain – it wasn’t where she had been, though she couldn’t see how to get any other place. And she wasn’t sure she had the energy to go any other place.

The pain ruled. And when there wasn’t pain there was nothing left. And when there was pain there wasn’t anything else she could do except feel the pain.

The dangers of wealth Luke 12:13-31 (with additions)

It's not that no one wealth will enter the realm of God. But there is a warning to those with money in this passage (and in many other passages). That warning is don't let dollars distract you from what is really important. One's life doesn't consist in the abundance of possessions. (Luke 12:15) Well… if one's life is in those possessions there is a need to change.

But deciding about wealth is not unimportant; it's just not the most important thing. Or, perhaps, it is better to say we should decide that wealth is not the most important things in our life. We should choose God over wealth. We should choose to work for the realm of God rather than for property and money.

The question we need to ask is 'where is our heart focused?' For some of us the answer will be prestige. For others the answer will be possessions. Still others will answer – money. And there are as many different answers as there are people. Somehow all of us sooner or later will let our desires for something other than God rule our heart.

But when we let something other than God rule our heart we can look, examine, repent. That is we can change and seek God once again. We can let the distractions fade away and look to serving and enjoying God. An abundance of possessions may or may not pass away before our life ends, but a life lived in the path of God will find completion even without toys with which to play.

Luke 12:13-31

[13] Someone in the crowd said to him, 'Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.' [14] But he said to him, Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you? [15] And he said to them, Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions. [16] Then he told them a parable: The land of a rich man produced abundantly. [17] And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?' [18] Then he said, I will do this:

I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. [19] And I will say to my soul, "Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry." [20] But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? '

[21] So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.

[22] He said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. [23] For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. [24] Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! [25] And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? [26] If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? [27] Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. [28] But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you -- you of little faith! [29] And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. [30] For it is the nat!
ions of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. [31] Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."

Support our troops

A calendar as the year begins. Good looking people in the picture. Supporting the troops. What more could one ask? Go to Freedom is not free.

Junia - reposted

How does one get a book out of a person who is only mentioned once in scripture? (well once that I know of) It's not to difficult if the name is of a woman and she is called pre-eminent among the apostles. One only has to trace the history of attempts to make the name masculine. For an interesting history of biblical scholarship and eisegesis instead of exegesis read Eldon Jay Epp's book JUNIA: the first woman apostle.

Armor of God - reposted

Any of you remember what Ephesians 4:16ff talks about? You and your children can now put on the whole armor of God. Doesn't that sound nice? PJ's ? I'm all for putting on the whole armor of God, but I didn't think the purpose was to make children feel safe. I thought it was so that we would go forth into battle for the truth, for Christ, to proclaim the good news. to face trials and persecutions. To feel safe at night seems an insipid use of the passage. The sort of lukewarm response that is going to be spit out because it is neither hot nor cold.

I am whole - reposted

I am wounded. This year has been one of accepting that wound may never be healed. I am wounded because I am called to ministry. That call has been affirmed and reaffirmed by my denomination. I have answered that call. And now I am rejected and feel despised. Even when I may be able to take up that call to serve again, the wounds will not heal. Words like 'our congregation isn't ready' or 'we need someone who our married couples can relate to' are less wounding than silence once my sexual orientation is mentioned.

I am angry. The way I've used that anger has been both good and bad. For while I seek to use my anger for good I am not perfect. I have struck out at those trying to help. Yet my anger is justified. My gifts that were used by my denomination in congregation, presbytery, synod and general assembly remain. They remain unused and swallowed by misperceptions.

I am whole and I am yet wounded and I remain angry. I seek God's will for my life. So I am whole. I seek to minister where I am and with those I meet. And so I am wounded and angry and whole. And for the whole of my life I will remain one who seeks to answer the call of God.

Stories of my family

In high school one of my teachers, social studies, recommended that we read a book by Barbara Ward called ‘The Rich Nations and the Poor Nations”. He said that, ‘there’s probably only one other copy in our town.’ I went home and mentioned this to my parents. My dad said, “I think I have a copy at the office” and my mother said, “I’ve got a copy downstairs that your aunt sent me and one upstairs that I bought at a conference.

My parents were also responsible for another social studies teacher having problems. I went into class one day and the teacher asked us, “What would your parents do if someone came to the door and asked for food?” Since my dad had been in charge of ministerial emergency funds in more than one community I put up my hand and said, “Give them food and if they needed lodging get them a room at the local motel.” So my teacher tried to make the situation worse and described someone dirty, ragged, and with a noisy car. I started to raise my hand and was told “Roger, don’t answer the question”. One of my brothers had the same class at another period and was told as he came in the door, “Don’t answer my questions today.”

This sort of story isn’t that unusual in my family. We have stories of my grandparents taking in people during the depression. Or in more recent years one of my cousins was working with some migrant workers. The boss put off paying them one Friday so he could get them back on Saturday. They had planned their money so that they could go back home on Friday and return on Monday. My cousin showed up at her parent’s house with several extra men at dinnertime. I might not always say that my relatives are nice, but I will say they set a good example.

I get some stubbornness from my family as well. One of my uncles got into a conflict with the college where he worked, or so I heard the story, and they thought they had him over a barrel. He quit. From teaching mathematics he went to tuning pianos. He made more money. A few years later he was teaching again – this time how to tune pianos.

At a recent family reunion one of my aunts mentioned that they didn’t know where the red hair in my uncle’s beard came from. I mentioned that my mother said it came from our great-grandfather K. She was surprised; my uncle – whom my mother had called her favorite brother – was surprised. Family stories get passed down different ways.

I sometimes wonder why all the criminal shows have people running up stairs. Don’t they know that they’re trapped there? Then I recall where my twin brother and spent many summer hours. We were up on the roof of the garage eating peaches. We were up on a limb of the locust tree. We were climbing the TV antenna to look at the purple martin house. Perhaps it’s not so strange that people flee to the heights.

Why latifundialization?

As you can guess, from the title of my blog, 'latifundialization' is one of my favorite words. So when I come across it or a cognate I have to recognize it with a quote or other mention.
The eighth century BCE was characterized by national prosperity, which brought in its wake urbanization, latifundia (the rich swallowing up the land of the poor), and other social injustices decried by the prophets (cited above) and solved (in theory) by the priestly...from Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), p. 217.

Unfortunately this prosperity, that Milgrom mentions, disappeared quickly. A reminder that we shouldn't put our trust in riches or strength of arms or any of the other things bewailed by the prophets. Yet too often we seem to put our trust in things rather than God. An article in a recent issue of Time s illustrates this. (Thanks to Andrew Sullivan for pointing me in this direction in his post titled 'Blessed are the Rich'.)The reason latifundialization has meaning for me comes from my parents. My teacher, Mr. McCullough, went to make a point one day by asking 'What would your parents do if someone pulled up to the house and asked for food?' To the destruction of his point I raised my hand and answered, 'They'd be given food and my dad would see what else they needed.'

In that community my dad was a help to some refugees, getting them jobs, dragging me to some of the classes in english - since I had some french as did they - and more that I never knew. The transfer of wealth from the poor to the rich was something against which they stood.

Certainly my parents weren't perfect. I remember those classes in English where dad's voice would get louder and louder as he tried to make the students understand what he was saying. Yet the lesson he taught, in his example more than his words, was that I should welcome the stranger within the land, that I should care for the poor and homeless, that I should look at each person as my brother or sister, and that wealth coming by stepping on the backs of another is something that his family wouldn't do.

So I studied the Elijah - Elisha cycle and learned a word to describe what I'd been taught already and will keep that word as a favorite for a long time. And we're not expected to be perfect. But in the midst of recognizing our imperfections we can learn to work with and enjoy each other - even those who are different from us. In the middle of our seeking to be better we can look at our mistakes and learn. In the jumble of our daily tasks we can take time to see the stranger as our brother and sister. We're not asked to be perfect, but we are asked to love as we are loved. And loving each other is something that we can do.

The dangers of wealth - a second posting

It’s not that no one with wealth will enter the realm of God. But there is a warning to those with money in this passage (and in many other passages). That warning is don’t let dollars distract you from what is really important. One’s life doesn’t consist in the abundance of possessions. (12:15) One’s life is (or should be) about worshipping God.

Yet we often forget this. We often forget about the one we should worship and begin worshipping the money, the power, and the prestige. We ignore the one who made is in favor of the idea that we are self-made. Or worse, we use the ‘but I’m so perfect that I deserve it’ mentality to excuse any of our excesses and trampling on other people.

It’s not just those with money who do this. We can find greed and excess wherever humans are. It is where anyone decides that they are better than the other or that the rules don’t apply to ‘me’. But the warnings in the gospels are directed more to the wealthy, the powerful and the prominent than to those who are poor. The poor may equally succumb to some of the temptations of wealth but just don’t have that as the temptation put before them each day and hour.

In many ways this week I’m looking at someone who fell due to the excesses of greed and power. Haggard of Colorado has been powerful. He led a large congregation, participated in regular phone calls with the president, led the National Association of Evangelicals, and more. Yet someone who only knew him as Art realized that he was someone else and came forth.

Now the accuser is not powerful or rich or prominent. In fact he’s certainly a prostitute, probably uses and/or sells drugs, and has very little reputation. But he saw hypocrisy. He saw someone seeking to prevent a relationship of the sort in which that one man was engaging and called it for what it was. If you’re having gay sex, paying for gay sex, buying drugs, then pronouncing against those things is hypocritical. And Haggard then became as one whose greed filled his life – he seems to have wanted the prominence that came with preaching against something that some people feel are evil while doing the very things that he preached against.

This is what Jesus warns against. The Pharisees used rules to determine who was and was not clean, but they left out the part where all could follow those rules. A shepherd, for example, was almost always unclean, as they couldn’t know where each sheep in their flock had been. But the one who owned the flock wasn’t unclean as they could stay away from the responsibility. This is what we do when we preach against a sin that we hide in ourselves or for which we have no prospect of doing.

If you blame gays for being promiscuous then provide them the remedy of marriage or civil unions with all the benefits that do encourage married people to be less promiscuous, but don’t blame them for having sex outside of marriage when you don’t allow them to marry.

And don’t blame all gays for what you yourself are doing. There are homosexuals who have had life-long partnerships where both are faithful and chaste. There are homosexuals who have never used illegal drugs. There are homosexuals who’ve used both drugs and sex as escapes from their lives. Just as all heterosexuals shouldn’t be blamed for the wildness of Mardi Gras parties or the key swapping parties of some, neither should homosexuals be placed all in the same basket.

Let people live the consequences of their actions rather than making more consequences than those actions deserve. Jesus clearly indicates that while we should reach out and care for people we should be leery of judging them. And in many ways I pity Haggard more than I judge him or gloat over his downfall. Though I do admit to the glee and judgmental attitude as well as pity.

Unfortunately Haggard is only one example. And he may not be the most egregious sinner. Each of us needs to look at ourselves. Are we blaming someone for illegal drugs while secretly abusing something that is legal? Are we condemning someone for promiscuity when we’ve not had the urge nor the opportunity? Are we judging someone for being abusing their family while ignoring the needs of our own family? Are we praying thank God I’m an honest, God-fearing person better than that sinner in the corner? Answer the above questions honestly and then we can begin to realize that while we may call people to account for their actions, while we may work to help them see the light we need to be asking them to call us to account for our actions and ask them to help us see the light. And the ‘them’ we should ask for help is probably the one we hate or despise or judge harshly.


Luke 12:13-31

[13] Someone in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.’ [14] But he said to him, Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you? [15] And he said to them, Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions. [16] Then he told them a parable: The land of a rich man produced abundantly. [17] And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ [18] Then he said, I will do this:

I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. [19] And I will say to my soul, =91Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry. [20] But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? ‘

[21] So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.

[22] He said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. [23] For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. [24] Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! [25] And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? [26] If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? [27] Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. [28] But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you -- you of little faith! [29] And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. [30] For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. [31] Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/nathaniel-frank/haggard-foley-and-gop-pr_b_33179.html