A Bend in the Road

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So….. I’ve discovered essential oils.  That is to say, I’m discovering essential oils, and have decided to repurpose my blog to chart the process. So far, I have learned what I am coming to believe are the fundamentals of natural healing … a more holistic approach than the medical path I had been on for some time now.
I paused in my blogging journey some time ago.  Years, in fact.  I started during a season of life when I was bored mentally but physically feeling awful.  There were days I couldn’t walk to the restroom without pausing from weakness and fatigue. I stopped cooking. I stopped cleaning. I stopped…. Well just about everything.  My family reapportioned the chores around me. My husband, bless his soul, picked up many of the things I had always been able to do without thinking. (He told me later, he had resolved within himself my condition had scared him.  He was preparing himself to live the rest of his years without me, just waiting for the last coffin nail to drop.)

I went to our family doctor.  During this time, I went through two physicals. My numbers were fine… maybe borderline in a few areas, but I was healthy as a horse.  I was taking supplements, pro-biotics, and a mitt-full of herbal capsules. The kids even laughed about Mom’s morning “gag and choke” routine when I “did the healthy.”
(I started to wonder if I was just lazy – or worse, crazy….. Was it all happening in my head?)
Moreover, I ate whole grains. I limited my intake of sugar. I had lost over 90 pounds three years prior, but had gained it all back. Along with the weight came an intense weakness and fatigue that just wouldn’t go away. No matter how much sleep I got.
(Was I depressed? Didn’t think so. Was I burned out? How was that possible?  I was sleeping all the time!)
Sure, our oldest daughter had gone through cancer treatments a couple of years before. She was doing great, and had just been married. Our youngest was getting ready to go off to school. Our middle was living at home and doing very well at her job. Bill had just finished his doctorate. And I was finished with menopause.
(Could it all be hormonal?  Who could tell?  I researched and found really scary possibilities.  If you are relating to this blog, please don’t do that to yourself.)
Then, after two Christmas seasons of not being physically able to do the decorating and baking I so loved to do; and not being strong enough to entertain guests in our home like we had always done – I became scared.  But, by the end of the spring of 2010, I was just plain mad. I had prayed. I had asked for healing. I was doing all the “right things.” But I was gaining weight and feeling worse and worse.
What on earth was wrong with me?
Then came July 4^th of that year. The day before, I decided I would refuse to spend yet another holiday on the couch. After all, there really is nothing on television…. Or any other screen for that matter, that is life altering, or heart fulfilling. And honestly, I was a little tired of reading – At that point, I would go to work, come home and sleep. But I was desperate for a change.  I decided to “just put my mind to it.”
You know. You’ve probably done it too.
I asked the family if we could all go to a local amusement park on the afternoon of July 4, which in 2010 fell on a Sunday.   We could ride roller coasters in the daylight and eat funnel cakes and hot dogs. After sunset, we could watch the multi-dollar fireworks display from inside the park this year.
Everyone agreed. We needed a family day; together; on an outing. We all missed them.
“Is Mom up to it?” our kids asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I thought.  But I said, “Absolutely!  Let’s do this!”
Bill and I were excited. The girls were too. That day, our oldest daughter and her husband joined us, and we all made a day of it.  Well, sort of. After two roller coasters, I was done. Discouraged, I sat on the benches for a time and watched everyone else ride ….. what a bummer!
“Maybe your blood sugar is too low,” someone suggested.
“Okay,” I thought. So, I bought a hot dog and some French fries. I remember thinking I wished they sold salads – but I kept dipping the fries in the ketchup anyway.  (Did you know there is sugar in ketchup these days?)
I felt a little better. We rode another roller coaster. And I was physically exhausted once more.
(Now, just for reference, I had always been the first one to repeat the coasters – front row too – during the girls’ childhoods.  The girls had always referred to their Mom as the “ride warrior.” But on that day, it was all I could do to stand in line! After that last ride, I had some water, and decided to rest until it was time for the fireworks.  I told the family I where I would be when the show started.)
Close to sunset, Bill bought me one of my favorite treats: a funnel cake. We got one doused in cinnamon sugar, and it evaporated between the two of us in less than three minutes.  A little later, we purchased another, and consumed it just as quickly.
I remember sleeping soundly that night, and late into the morning of the 5^th. But then, all day on the 5^th, I was unable to do anything! All of the exhaustion symptoms I had pushed to the side, willing myself to forge into a family day on the 4^th, had returned with a vengeance.
The evening of the 5^th,  I felt like my heart was pounding in my head. Bill had recently been placed on blood pressure meds by our family doctor, and he expressed concern.
“Check your blood pressure, Babe,” he suggested.
Finding the cuff under the bathroom sink, I set it up according to the instructions. A few minutes later, I was also concerned. The screen read 188/101. I had no idea what those numbers meant, but I knew they were high. I practiced some breathing regulation exercises, and put an ice pack at the base of my neck. An hour later, it read 165/84, or something close to that.  Assuming the numbers were coming down to normal range, I helped in the late-night routine household chores.
“I’ll have to ask the doctor about this,” I thought, shrugging it off. I headed up to bed with Bill.
Now, so we’re clear; I still had not really mentioned my frustration with my symptoms to my husband. Or even disclosed half of what I had been physically dealing with. I thought I was protecting him.  And, for the same reasons, he had not ventured to bring up his fears of my death with me.
The morning of July 6^th, 2010, I awoke around 4:00am with a start. My head was pounding like it was about to come off. I couldn’t seem to focus my left eye, nor did I have any feeling in my left cheek.  My left arm and shoulder were numb. Come to think of it, so was my left leg and foot!
“I’m just lying in a funny position,” I reasoned, trying to shift. I mentally prepared myself for the pins and needles feeling that would certainly follow my movement.
As my brain worked to communicate with my body, I became terrified. Nothing responded.
I couldn’t move my left side!! Over and over again I tried, and couldn’t move even one muscle!  With my right arm, I reached over my body, and tapped my sleeping hubby’s shoulder.
“Honey?” I called. I waited a minute. “Babe?” I tapped him again.
He turned over, and faced me, his eyes still closed. “Mm? What?”
“Honey, can you help me?” I said. “I can’t move.”
Bill was instantly awake, and alert. “What?” he repeated.
“I can’t move. I’ve been lying here for about 30 minutes. Can you help me?”
“Sure,” he answered. He helped me roll over to my back, and then just held me for the next two hours. We prayed together for healing, for wisdom, for a miracle. Slowly feeling began to return, and the headache began to subside.
Had it been a stroke? A heart attack? What was going on in my body?
At 6:30am, we called the emergency number for our doctor’s office.  I had gone through a physical just a month before. For that reason, I didn’t want to go to the local emergency room. Instead, I opted to wait for our doctor’s office to open. (Besides, who wanted EMT personnel in our messy bedroom that night?)
The triage nurse asked for my symptoms. As I shared them with Bill, his eyes grew wide. The nurse also expressed concern, and said we should come in when the office opened at 8:00am.
Needless to say, my entire life changed that day.  My non-fasting glucose (A1C) was out of control at 13.9 — (14 is coma range). My blood pressure was high also 167/90  or something ridiculous like that….  The EKG was normal, as were many other tests. Our doctor gave me the name of cardiologist I “really needed to see to be sure,” and then sat us both down for the bad news.
It was full blown diabetes, and a few other things. (I have since learned the name for the condition is Metabolic Syndrome, or Syndrome X).
“What could I have done differently?” I asked, sure he would say ‘diet and exercise.’
“You could have chosen your parents,” he answered. “It’s genetic.”
He sent me home with insulin. And needles. And prescriptions. Lots and lots of them. (More than 5 that day….. 9 more later). Strange. Hadn’t I been taking my vitamins, and limiting my sugar, and doing teas and herbs? What was wrong with this picture?
Great. Just great. (I just want to add at this point that a period of emotional struggle began for me at this point, along with a sense of futility!)
So……. Let’s fast forward to today, early summer of 2016.
It’s been a full six years since my diagnosis.  I still am giving myself two injections each day, and faithfully taking the prescribed drugs for diabetes, along with several other things; fourteen medications all told. For the first year or so, I took the classes, and tried to follow the advice given by professionals. After three years, I was able to bring my A1C down to a healthy 6.1, and have remained there to the present time. There was a season when I tried to go to the gym, but would come home and collapse, once again unable to do anything productive.
I have discovered low carb protein, thanks to the Unjury company. (Check it out at Unjury.com). Unjury is a medically developed protein for patients who have undergone gastric surgery. I mix it up each morning with fruit, powdered vitamins and greens.  (I plan to post recipes here in the future). This concept provided me with an incremental improvement in my energy levels. The protein also helped me to experience better sleep.
I have also discovered the value of drinking greens – not that I thought it would be a great idea when I started. I was raised as a missionary child, and was taught it was polite to try a bite of everything. Still, the idea of drinking something green was a concept I had to come to slowly. (Those recipes are also coming). This addition/change provided an additional incremental improvement to my health levels.
Exercise has also been helpful – mostly walking, and light cardio.
So then, in consideration of all I have said to this point, I now come full circle to my opening sentence: I have discovered essential oils.  Since beginning to use them – diffusing, applying, and drinking a drop or two here and there – I am actually experiencing marked and positive change in my health levels.
Oils have definitely brought positive change into my life. For example, a month ago, I travelled to Mexico on a short term mission trip.  That was a miracle for me! Eight years ago, I never expected to ever go out of the country again, much less on a missions trip!  And I didn’t collapse!  It was amazing. And the best part?  I can’t wait to go back to that beautiful country in the fall of this year!
Father God has provided tools for healing in His creation. As I continue to blog here, it is my hope to be able to encourage many, help some, and provide hope for those who find themselves stuck in a place of “un-health” and “dis-ease,” as I was.  I can feel my body becoming stronger every day. I can sense my immunities being rebuilt, as I follow this fresh and natural path.  It is my hope to one day soon, find myself without a need for my medications; healthy and whole.
Next up: What are essential oils, and why are they important?
2016 Debbye Graafsma/Awakened to grow. No part of this publication may be reproduced without permission.

"Journey" -- a reality at last!!

What an exciting day! “Journey” is a reality!! …. The biblical novel I have been working on the for last 8 years is in print, ready for distribution! This morning, we discovered it on amazon.com, as well as several other online sites. I am so thankful for Advantage books, specifically for Mike and Karyn Janiczek; I hope my small offering helps to enlarge their publishing endeavors … Their company really does need to be a household name — like Tyndale, or Word…. I am also so very humbled and thankful for the many friends who donated funds to help make the book a reality — I have learned many lessons this year about the need for community…. What a blessing!

If you would like to see the book, it is available on amazon.com here.

Here is a little more information;

From the back cover –

Everyone loves a story; some we love because they make us laugh; some because they make us cry, touching our pain.
Everyone has a story. Many are untold. Some we remember for opening doors, presenting keys for adventure and discovery.

Some stories are true; some are not. Based on actual events, this story weaves a riveting account; drawing readers in, captivating our attention, making us part of the plot action.
Journey is the historical biography of the life of a young, courageous woman named Mary. Based on more than eight years of painstaking research, the author has drawn from more than fifty sources and a trip to Israel in order to bring actual Biblical events to life. Drawing from the lessons and stories of those she has helped in her counseling practice, the author paints a compelling portrayal of what it meant to live in ancient times.

Here are reviews from some of those who have read the book already… and let me just say in advance, ” thanks for listening….”

“Journey is a good read, with wonderful characterization, and a riveting plot. It makes the times and people come to life. The interesting thing is that the reader finds oneself identifying with the struggles and questions of the people – as though they are us.”(Sharon N.)

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“When I was reading Debbye’s book, I felt like I had been picked up and placed into the lives of the people who lived in Bible times. As I read, I realized that a lot of women, who have not been nurtured from an early age, feel the things that Mary Magdalene felt. I identified with her feelings. During one scene in particular, I felt the Presence of God draw close to me, bringing personal healing. It was a personal visitation because of the picture painted of Jesus’ ministry. I remember weeping for a long time, and emerging with a sense of healing. At another point during the book, I experienced being strengthened and empowered by the Lord; to accept the freedom to become the woman I was created to become; not afraid of the culture or of other people’s reactions and words.” (Dianne T.)

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“I really enjoyed reading this book. It was a good read, with a good story line. I loved the richness of the culture, customs and history. It was all so interesting and informative!” (Jean R.)

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“This story offers a number of benefits as it weaves history, healing and spiritual truths into its pages. I have gained valuable insight into the way that living a life in Jesus brings healing to the soul. I have been blessed and changed from reading it.” (Jill B.)

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“I love reading stories about real people. Journey made Jesus real to me. Reading this book has helped me to understand God better.”(Carol J.)

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“To whom it may concern:

“I have had the privilege to read Journey by Debbye Graafsma. I found it to be a compelling read. The following is an attempt to explain why I found this book to be so enjoyable. The first requirement I have when I read fiction, is that I must care about the characters. Debbye achieved this by presenting characters who were believable, who had depth, and to whom the average person can relate.

“She allowed you into their lives, warts and all. By doing so, the reader can identify with the characters and care about what happens to them. Another unique aspect of the book was the fact that the culture and architecture was so accurately and vividly portrayed. The reader could envision walking the streets as they existed in Biblical times.

“The discussion of business transactions was also very interesting. The caravans transporting goods, the purchase of linens and cloth, operation of vineyards, the presence of spas – all provided further insight into how people lived and earned money.

“To me, the most unique aspect of this book was how the common people reacted to Jesus. What they thought of Him; How they reacted to Him. This is evidenced by the description of how Jesus delivered Mary of the demons. This sequence was so vivid and moving that it brought tears to my eyes. Also, Mary’s anointing of Jesus’ feet with oil and wiping them with her hair was very moving.

“The portrayal of Simon the Pharisee gave me, for the first time, a clear picture of the mindset of the religious leaders at the time of Jesus’ ministry. I have a better understanding of why the religious leaders wanted to crucify Jesus.

“I am confident that Journey will minister to its readers. I believe both male and female readers would enjoy this book. It will minister to whoever reads it.” (Thomas R.)

provisioned

In the 1650′s, John Bunyan wrote a book. It was an allegorical novel, said to describe a dream. He titled it “Pilgrim’s Progress.” If you haven’t read it, it’s a great read – although the original version is a little harder to get through; old English and all. When I was about ten or eleven, I had an easy-read version that I read over and over again until the cover wore thin. I loved the symbolism, even as a child. If you haven’t heard of him, John Bunyan was a Reformation preacher who lived in England. During the difficult years of religious upheaval, when for a time it was illegal to even own a page from a Bible, this part-time tinker (repairman/handyman) gathered many together with his teachings about the love of God. He was a man who understood the compassionate side of Abba Father. His daughter, Mary, was blind. I have wondered many times if he wrote his allegory for her. In the years since it’s initial publication, “Pilgrim’s Progress” has sold more copies than any other book ever printed, except for the Bible. So, take my word for it; it’s a good read.

Which brings me to my story. This morning, the Holy Spirit reminded me of an experience I had when I was child, reading this old classic story. As I said, the book is an account of a dream. It describes the story of a man named Christian, who is making a journey from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. Along the way, he meets many who help him, and many more who hinder him. He gains companions; he experiences pain; he loses loved ones; and he finally makes it to his destination. All along the way, he learns and grows, becoming the person he was created to become.

In the middle of his journey, Christian has travelled a long way. Everywhere he goes, he looks for indicators to show him the next step in his journey. He has a map, but sometimes he can’t decipher it well. Continually, he needs others to help him figure it out. But he keeps moving. He comes to a steep hill, and looks upward. Sadly, overwhelmingly, it appears that the road continues up this small mountain; so he sighs and moves forward. He is tired; he is forlorn; he is weary; he is hungry and thirsty; he doesn’t know if he can do it. As he climbs, the mountain becomes steeper than he anticipated. Finally, he has to clamber on his hands and knees just to make headway. It takes all the energies he has in his possession. But now he is committed. He can’t go back. He can’t stop. He must finish this part of the journey.

Soon, he comes to a clearing. He is close to the peak of the mountain. He sees a large house, nestled close to the summit. He thinks “I could get some refreshment there, if they will take me in.” So, he moves on towards the house. But then, as he draws closer, his heart sinks. The pathway to the house is guarded by two large lions, who, although shackled to rock posts with neck irons, look at him with menacing eyes. Fear rises in his heart. He stops in his tracks.

Now what?

Suddenly, a voice speaks from the front door of the house. The Caretaker shouts to him, “Don’t be afraid! They are chained to the posts! Keep to the middle of the path and they won’t be able to reach you!”

With a flash of hope, Christian slowly and carefully moves past the lions, who growl as he passes. He arrives at the front door untouched. He is safe. He breathes a sigh of relief.

“Welcome!” says the Caretaker. “We have been waiting for you.”

Surprised, Christian discovers a Place of Refreshment. He is bathed, and receives medical treatment for his injuries. He is given clean clothing. He eats at a banquet table. He laughs and relaxes in an atmosphere of safety. For several days, he stays. He finds his heart again. He gains direction. He asks questions. He listens. He learns.

Then, on the third morning, the King’s daughters; Faith, Hope and Charity, help him get ready to complete his journey. They clothe him in armor, hand-fit to his person. He is given a sword and a shield. He is provisioned, and given a scroll of promises. For you see, the House on the mountaintop was the King’s House. It was a place of refuge.

In the next chapter of the book, Christian faces the dragon Appollyon, his nemesis; the image of Satan in his own weaknesses. Because of his provisioning, he prevails victorious. He emerges from the battle battered, but wiser; stronger somehow. He would have died in the battle had he not been to the King’s House.

It’s my favorite place in the book. The House of Refreshing.

This morning, the Holy Spirit reminded me of an experience I had during one of my many readings of “Pilgrim’s Progress.” I was ten years old. I had just finished the King’s House chapter, and I was overwhelmed with a sense of the Presence of God. “When I grow up, Jesus, I want my house to be like that. I want people to go away from my house stronger than they came in. I want to help people.”

That hope has remained a center in me for the past forty-three years. When I met Bill, in our many conversations, building relationship, his heart resonated with that focus as well. (It’s wonderful when you marry someone who carries some of your same pages in their own instruction manual for living.) As as result, that same hope has filtered into the way we approach pastoring and leading people. “Let them leave stronger than they came in.”

It has become a personal mission statement for my counseling ministry as well.

All that being said, dear reader, I bring you a request for prayer. My Doll-House Toehead (see blog by the same title), and her mother (see blog titled “Peaches”), move away this weekend. They are on to the next step of rebuilding their lives in the aftermath of abuse, court systems and custody battles. I miss them already…

I sent my toehead away with a jar of Play-Doh… one we played with together…. small offerings. Someday, at journey’s end, we won’t have to go in different directions.

Pray for these two precious souls. Pray for their armor to remain strong; that they lose nothing — and gain everything.

The world is a learning environment. Some life-lessons come harder than others.

We all need safe places of refreshing.

Someday, I want to build a House of Safety for women in such stages of life….. God knows. Pray for our ministry as well.

Blessings.

(c)2010 atg/dcg. No duplication without permission.

peaches

At church yesterday, someone was giving away fresh peaches. A large box was placed by the door, filled to the brim with at least a bushel of the yummy fruits. “Our trees are full,” my friend said. “Please, take as many home as you like.” She and her husband had even brought shopping bags for the interested peach-lovers in our congregation.

As people were heading towards their homes, (or lunch out), I noticed treasure collections of peach-filled bags in the hands of many. “Did you get some peaches?” my friend asked those who had forgotten.

“Oh! I forgot!” was the usual reply. “Thanks for bringing these.” Many made plans for their peaches — jam; pies; just peel-n-eat.

I love serving in ministry. Did I tell you that? For the past thirty years, Bill and I have worked together as senior pastors; first in the north, and now in the southeast. We have learned and evolved over the years; relaxing a little somehow. Hopefully we are a little wiser; stronger; more mature; hopefully we are just better. In the process, our marriage has been through storms and summers. As our personal family has grown, so has our ministry style. In fact, the years have solidified lessons about ministry, and my own approach to it.

For my own part, I have decided it is more profitable to live on a learning curve.

I can’t give out what I haven’t received — so I have to stay open. To the Spirit of God, and to other people…

I can’t ask people to do what I am not willing to do myself — so I need to invest myself. Not living with an entitled mindset that “someone else will do it.”

I can’t carry the water of Life to others; in worship, the Word, or even in example, if I am empty. So it is vital that I hear Jesus speak to my heart continually. Manna is good; day-old bread, not-so-much.

Most importantly, ministry is my job. It is not my relationship with Jesus. If and when I confuse the two, trading one for the other, a terrible treadmill is the result; a trap whose lure is success and man’s approval — a tendency towards contemporary trends and relativism. No, Jesus and I must meet and discuss my heart attitudes, the development of my personhood, my discipleship. Jesus and I must meet and explore what it means to be a human being, rather than a human doing. Without that daily meeting with the Spirit of the Living God, I cannot find substance or depth. Nor will I be able to live my days with passion for Him.

My life with God should be about my loving God — not about duty…..

In the early days, Bill and I were sitting in a Denny’s restaurant, studying for exams in our pastoral epistles class. (Thanks, Jim and Jean Hodges!!) We weren’t married yet; or even engaged. We were just study partners. We were talking about I Timothy 3, and what the office of a bishop/pastor would look like. In our conversation, we came to some conclusions. For a minister to have his home “in order,” the instruction was not discussing the portrayal of an image, or a flawlessly spiritual existence. It meant that the God-order of relationships had to rule the minister’s family; that we treat each other well — safely. Without control, manipulation, domination, anger or strife. It meant that we seek to out-serve each other, and seek to enter each other’s world, like Jesus did for His Bride. …

Practically put, I can’t give away what I don’t possess. If I haven’t mined it out for my own life, I can only describe it to others — I can’t take them there.

When family comes before ministry, the result is healthy living. The God-example of the people before the machine comes into play. In my own understanding, this is the conduit God intends when He calls us. He calls us to healing. There is no other way for our lives to become the pipeline Jesus wants us to become.

It means that my relationships within my family, and the life I am living at home, become the avenue through which ministry comes. In priority and principle, it looks like this: #1. Relationships before Tasks; #2. Take the time for the individual; #3. Some tasks will take longer because of #1 and #2.

After thirty years of living our lives in ministry this way, I keep making discoveries of how well I love our church family. And they have become our family; a community of safety; a Safe Haven.

Hopefully, we are bearing good fruit. I realize we won’t really know the end-results of our efforts until the end of days; sometimes, though it’s good to get a glimpse, just to encourage yourself.

“Mommy! Look at the peaches!” My dollhouse-toehead tugged on her mother’s pant leg. “We need some!” (If you want to know who she is, please see the blog entitled “Doll-house Toehead.”)

Her mother and I had been in the midst of a quick conversation. You see, we head to court tomorrow. We are seeking to rescue her from the effects of abuse; to create a safe place for a child who needs to relax in order to heal and grow.

In my heart, I hope we get a judge who listens. I hope we get a miracle for this little girl and her mother…. I hope.

In my heart, I give thanks that healing happens in the midst of community — mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. Learning what Jesus meant for our lives to look like when He put two “fruit-pickers” in a Eden’s Garden….. sharing the harvest fruit of our lives with one another; growing up into the image of Him, with roots going deep; people of substance and relationship.

Sounds peachy…. (sorry couldn’t resist!) Blessings.

bandits

“We caught him!”

I looked up from my laptop, to see my husband’s face shining with excitement. “Come out and see him!”

So, we walked out to the yard, where, under the trees in a “have-a-heart” trap, was a large, full-grown, vanquished, male raccoon. It looked up with pleading eyes, frozen in place, watching us as we assessed him. Now, before I go on with the story, I must give you a little history.

Context is everything…

Three weeks ago, Bill set the trap. He used a full can of sardines as bait. We had tried everything else. In the morning, the trap had yielded a neighborhood cat. Disappointed, we let the pitiful little thing go to its home, feeling guilty for setting the trap in the first place. The next night, the same, brand new trap had almost given its life as an offering towards the quest… Wonderfully, the raccoon had found the trap, and taken the sardines. But, in the process, the not-so-little bandit had all but destroyed our trap. It lay in bent and battered pieces the next morning, a tribute to the raccoon’s cunning. In response, and, as a tribute to his own tenacity, my husband wired it back together with bailing wire, reinforcing the trap door. “There!” he declared. “The little jerk won’t do that again!”

Why this raccoon? Why this focus of energy?

Well, it all began several years ago. It has become a quest; a mission; a passion, if you will. Like a knight in search of a grail, my husband has discovered a priority. The raccoons are the enemy from hell; similar to St. George’s dragon, you see. For the protection of our home, they must go….. The quest has enveloped each of our family members in one way or another, at one time or another. In the course of his quest, we have discovered all sorts of theories, and falsehoods about how to deal with the little breed.

It all started when our oldest daughter, Rachel, came home from college one year. We had known there were gaps around the dormers on our roof needing to be repaired; filled in. But, when you are refurbishing a church campus, limited in finances, and working, there is only so much energy to go around. So, understandably, the dormers had waited.

After unpacking her suitcases, Rachel, then 21, pulled the hinged stairway down that leads to our attic. Her attempted task was to put her bags away. After extending the stepladder, she began the short climb, looking upwards, then down. She reached down to gather her empty suitcase from the floor, readying herself to swing the bag up into the open access. In her peripheral vision, she saw a movement. She almost fell off the ladder with a stifled scream. She looked again towards the access.

A rather large raccoon was standing on its haunches, front feet up, teeth bared. It was hissing and growling. Apparently, she had invaded its home.

Its home? I had thought it was our home….

Rachel came running downstairs. So startled was she, that she forgot to close the access stairs. “Mom! Dad! Did you know there are raccoons in the attic?” “Mom! How did they get in there?” Thankfully, the raccoon “king” was satisfied that he had defended his domain and had not ventured down the stairway…

Did you ever discover something that suddenly needed attention? A lot of attention? Unknown to anyone living in our home, elements of destruction had been working for a long time. Repairs were extensive and time-consuming; requiring strategy. They were expensive.

It was like the painful discovery of a blindspot; like seeing a need for change.

Upon inspection, Bill discovered a family of raccoons in the attic. How long they had been there, we couldn’t tell. But they had certainly created themselves an environment. They loved it there..

But so did we….

In the process of getting rid of the ones in the attic, a few got away…..causing us to begin a journey. Over the past six years, we have caught and relocated many raccoons; all of which have come from this one little attic family. (We have also worked to repair the roof….) And, as far as we know, the male Bill caught this morning was the last of them.

As I stood, considering the little imp in the trap today, I found the inevitable words coming out of my female mouth. “But, he’s so cute, honey! Look at him! The poor thing! How long has he been in there?”

My husband looked at me in disbelief, his mouth open. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “It’s just hard to believe this is the one.”

Bill put his arm around me. “He’s the one.”

In my heart I know he is right. The long list of repairs we have done because of this particular raccoon came to my mind. He has broken the glass in the birdfeeders, and bent the metal suet feeders, rendering them almost unusable. He has chugged full hummingbird feeders, leaving them empty, with trails behind him. He has chewed. He has dug. He has destroyed the finch feeders, requiring their replacement.

And he is done. So am I. Looking at him, I realized my personal need to face the facts. He might be cute, but he was destructive. He might be cowering now, but he had wreaked havoc with his siblings in our home. As a whole, the raccoon race had cost us hundreds of dollars. My battle? I found myself wanting Bill to let him go because I momentarily felt sorry for him. If we did let him go into the neighborhood once again, our frustrations would continue, and the quest would return…

For that moment, the raccoon was full of regret — of his appetite for sardines, and his destructive patterns.

For that moment, I felt guilty — for impeding his processes, for his capture, for his impending relocation.

But regret and guilt don’t make changes. Repentance does. Strategies and Intentional Action make changes. Feelings don’t dictate growth. Character dictates growth.

Context is everything…

It is sad, but I have met many people who are stuck in the perpetual cycles of guilt and regret…. allowing a quest to be revisited because they hope a quick apology will undo years of bad behavior. They wrongly believe it is their responsibility to maintain the happiness of those they love who carry destructive behaviors…..

King Solomon said “is is the little foxes that spoil the vines.” And he was right.

Beware of the masked bandits…..

Blessings!

(C)2010 DG Awakened to Grow. Duplication without permission prohibited.

knowing

We don’t know what we don’t know…..

When we realize we don’t know, most of the time we don’t possess the correct questions to help us begin to know what we need to know….. (now stay with me..)

And, most of the time, we only discover what we don’t know after we have made mistakes, and wish we could fix them.

It’s so true, isn’t it?……

Each month, through our ministry at Awakened to Grow, I teach workshops for personal growth and development. This morning, the subject was “Parenting: How to Discover and Develop Gifts in your Child.” For three hours, we discussed personalities, parenting styles, bonding gaps, learning styles, and the process of connecting with children on a heart-level. I was particularly touched by one participant who came. She is a single gal, who came not because she has children of her own, but because she is a teacher who wants to help her more emotionally disconnected students.

Why, you might ask….

Because emotionally disconnected students don’t really learn or absorb. They just memorize facts, and forget them later on. This woman knows instinctively knows that if she can get her students to connect with her as the teacher, they will learn.

When our children were smaller, I mistakenly thought that a more structured and somewhat rigid environment would help them to become better students. I scheduled, made task-lists, and sometimes over-organized our home-schooling/learning environment. It didn’t work. Wow, that’s an understatement. It really, really didn’t work.

I didn’t know what I didn’t know.

When I discovered that I didn’t know, I realized that I had no idea what questions I should ask in order to learn a different pathway.

It is the same way in emotional development, which, by the way is necessary for both genders. When we count the male gender out of the process during boyhood, we damage their souls. He stunt them as men; turning them angry and violent.

We hinder them from hearing the Spirit of God as adult men.

Emotional development does not track with the growth of our physical bodies. In his research on the levels of moral development at Harvard, Lawrence Kohlberg divided the steps of emotional/moral development into five stages. Level 1 is infantile, unaware and out of touch. Level 5 is fully invested, and able to invest in others unselfishly on a consistent basis. Sadly, even as adults, more than 90% of the world’s population does not move past level 3.

So what prevents us from growing?

Here is the the first key: Unless a person intentionally addresses an area of relational living; assessing, addressing, and changing it; they will not, they cannot grow. They might try to imitate a behavior, or keep a rule in order to save a relationship — but they will not be able to make real steps towards adult living. For example, if a man has had a difficult childhood, say, where he could not relate to his mother; that man will find it difficult to relate to women in his adult life in a healthy manner. He will also find it difficult to relate to his daughters. He won’t be a good communicator. He might be unfaithful, or even cold and unfeeling.

If he has sons, his manner of relating is passed on; imitated and followed, many times for generations…

Here is the second key: Emotional development does not happen in seclusion or isolation. It happens in community — We were created for relationship — Therefore, we need it in order to be happy, healthy and whole.

This kind of growth many times cannot happen unless hidden wounds are addressed in a person’s life. And please, for those of you who have been in Christian circles for a long time, please understand that it doesn’t happen quickly, or overnight. It is a journey, with one step following another; happening incrementally, and intentionally.

The first lesson we learn in emotional development, is that we must be willing to be honest; assessing where we live without fear, blame, guilt, shame or denial.

The second lesson is more difficult. Choosing to trust a safe person; asking them to give us a new set of questions to ask about our lives.

For more, let me recommend a great read. “Emotionally Healthy Spirituality,” by Pete Scazzaro.

To close, let me say this:

My friend, Mike likes to post funny things on his Facebook page. Today, his quote came up, “God has already figured your stupidity into His plan.” At first, I laughed, and then, thought, “It’s a good thing!” You know, if God had to wait for me to “get it” every time, my life would have more delays than an airport….. He is the only One who knows all the things we don’t know…..

Blessings!!

(c)2010 DG Awakened to Grow. Duplication without permission prohibited.

on empathy

He sat across from me in my office, silent. His hands were fidgeting as he continued to look down and shifted in his chair. Was he contemplating the non-existent pattern in the carpet? Had he heard me, I wondered?

Almost a complete minute of silence had passed since I had asked him the question. Apparently, it had provoked a deep introspection. We had been discussing the value of communicating thoughts and emotions in his relationships. As his griefs had surfaced over the past season, so had a deep confusion over his identity. For this man, it had always been easier to logically assess a situation, plan a practical task, and move forward, ignoring the effects of his words and actions on those around him.

Relationally, he was oblivious. Until lately.

Now, in the midst of the cost of his marriage, his Inner Life was waking up. My question had been a simple one: “If you were your wife, what would you think or feel about you?”

I have learned over the years, to allow my clients time to think through their answers, and wait for responses. But, as the silence wore on in this particular session, I began to realize we were on unknown ground for this particular gentleman.

I broke into his reverie. “Are you having trouble?” I asked.

“She told me before she left,” he replied. “I just didn’t want to listen, I guess.”

“What did she say?”

“She told me that I didn’t want her.” He stopped. “Why would she say that? We never talked about this stuff. Where would she get that idea?”

And there it was. After years of ignoring his wife; expecting her to take care of him without verbal or relational connection; leaving the care of the children and the home completely in her hands; acknowledging her only in public… this client was surprised at his wife’s apparently inconceivable decision to leave. Hadn’t he been a provider, he reasoned? That should be enough. After all, he was the man, he said.

“What do you think you would think or feel?” I repeated the question.

“I guess I would feel lonely,” he sighed a response. “I just didn’t know I was supposed to care about those things. It never occurred to me how she might feel. I mean, she took care of everything. I really thought she was happy. In control, you know…..”

“Did she ever tell you she was unhappy?”

He shifted in his chair again. “Well, a couple of times when we had fights. I would bring something to her attention, and she would burst into tears and ‘go off.’ You know, hormonal.”

“What does that mean: ‘you would bring something to her attention?’”

“Like something she needed to change — about herself; or about the house, or how she was handling something with the kids.”

“Did you help her?”

“I didn’t have time to do that. I was working.”

“Were you critical of her?”

“Probably, but only to help her.” He looked at me. “Isn’t the wife supposed to take care of the husband? Isn’t that her Biblical reponsibility?”

At that point, I called him by name. “Do you realize that when you try to change your wife in that way, you are telling her that you don’t really want her as your companion? What she hears is that you want someone else who will act and respond in a different way, and be a different person than she is. You are telling her that you don’t want her. Not only that, but when that is the only communication she is receiving, it is doubly damaging.”

He looked at me, dumbfounded; his mouth and eyes wide open, like a deer in the middle of a road facing bright headlights.

“Not only that,” I continued. “But as to Biblical responsibilities, the Word has much more to say about the man’s responsibility to care and nurture his wife than it does about the woman’s role.”

“For real?” he asked.

Being female, it amazed me that he hadn’t known this. This man, although he loved his wife dearly, had been content to live and function on a facts level only, ignoring his family, making demands. In contrast, his wife had been living in emotional starvation since their days of courtship. Then, through the years of marriage, this husband had mistakenly assumed that because he could explain away her complaints and emotions as “not being logical,” they didn’t matter. If he could discount them, and find an alternate perception, it became his habit to expect her to consistently adjust and make personal changes.

This man had expected his viewpoint to determine Acceptable Truth. Apparently, there had been no alternatives; no team; no unity. He felt it was his God-given privilege.

Since that meeting several years ago, I have encountered many in our culture with the same issues; many marriages with the same struggle. Sadly, in my own experience, situations like this one are even more prevalent within the mindset of the Christian church, than in the secular environment.

God’s original design for marriage is that each partner seek to outserve the other one; not one-sided or demanding. The husband submits his life to Jesus, and loves his wife without condition, laying his life down for her. The wife responds by submitting her life to Jesus, and honoring his intentional choice to serve. Together they are a team, seeking to build each other up — without asserting rights, choosing to learn how to grow together, living their growth honestly and vulnerably in front of their children and the rest of humanity. This is the way of the Kingdom.

When we come to Christ, he calls us to forsake the desire to put ourselves first. We become disciples — learners. We choose to serve. A marriage doesn’t work when one partner does more serving than the other — because it isn’t God’s plan. Such a relationship becomes selfish. The non-communicative partner becomes the center of the orbit; with everyone seeking to gain their approval…… this is narcissism. Sadly, it lives in the American Church as well; in marriages that would like the label “Christian.” But Christianity is about what Jesus would do — not about our rights, our feelings, or our comfort.

We are not called to rule each other — we are called to serve each other. We are called to empathy.

I have had the exhausting joy of helping many broken and abused women over the years in rebuilding some semblance of their lives. I still find myself getting angry when legalistic dogmatics contend for some sort of “scriptural” selfishness and entrapment when it comes to abuse in Christian marriages. In a day when our American culture has become increasingly self-focused, self-centered, and self-absorbed, there is a desperate need for more than surface answers in our homes and families.

It is time for a house-cleaning from the attributes of Denial, Entitlement and Religiosity.

It is time for Honesty, Healing and Growth.

If you are in a relationship like the one described here, let me encourage you to seek help. Find a good, solid, Christian counselor who won’t offer platitudes; but will speak real solution. God’s plan for marriage is that it reflect the relationship Jesus has with His Bride – Honest, Safe, Secure, Loving and filled with Grace. Within the context of Reality; it means growing, learning and communicating; allowing your spouse to know your entire life, with nothing held back — ever.

I’m glad to say that in that particular appointment years ago the husband began a process in working, hard, I might add, to win his wife’s heart back. What took many years to destroy, God rebuilt in a season of months — in fact, I spoke with him not long ago, and he said, “Thanks. We’re still learning– every day!”

Aren’t we all? (Thank God!)

Welcome to Discipleship 101.

(c)2010 DG Awakened to Grow. Duplication without permission prohibited.