Wednesday, 23 May 2018

Feeling Zombiefied

(originally journaled Feb 26, 2018)

I dread being relaxed ...

I hate how I can sit down in front of the TV and watch 3 or 4 episodes non-stop of repetitive stuff like forensics shows. Or slouch in front of the computer screen and scroll through endless Facebook memes. When I just glaze over and go with the flow--and end up feeling so guilty for wasting time.

I've been having a hard time avoiding screen time. Dear God, please help me fill those dull, empty spaces with things that will draw me into relationship with You and into loving others with Your love.

I feel like I've been zombiefied lately. I need to get active--but how? The more I work (and I've been working hard, especially brain work--tutoring, editing, writing), the more tired I become. Yet the more I sleep to overcome the tiredness, the more it increases. I feel like maybe I'm using sleep as a way to avoid something, though I don't know what. I'm so tired of blah days.

I don't care so much about happiness and pleasure and success. I just want Your joy.

I don't care so much about mushy human love and friends. I do want the love of God and neighbor that You offer and promise.

I don't care so much about solving wars and political upheavals (or even Christian/religious ones, which there seem to be a lot of these days). But I do long for contentment in You through Your peace that passes all human understanding (because that's the only way true peace will ever come).

I'm so tired of feeling zombiefied. Please awaken, enliven me with Your abundant life.


Tuesday, 1 May 2018

Honor God and Parents--Or Tell Lies

I woke this morning and lay in bed wondering why it is so hard for me to tell the truth about the tiniest things that might have someone think negatively about me. I was pretty sure it had to do with the guilt and embarrassment I feel when I think people will not approve or will catch me out not doing the best I can do. "Study to show thyself approved unto God (and people, oh yes! people especially), a workman (a hardworking one)..."

But at the same time, I actually fear that if I am successful I will be guilty of pride, that core sin. If I reach too high or am pleased by even small successes, I am stepping out of my place in life which is to be a humble and obedient little Christian girl, thus pleasing God and grandma and church and sometimes parents too, who in turn were under pressure to raise me that way--and by extension, everyone else (humans more than God, I strongly suspect).

Yet at the same time, I know I believe, deep down, that I am supposed to do well, particularly in anything related to academic education, writing, and teaching, to please and reflect well on my dad, the teacher.

Further, when I commit any one of an endless number of thou-shalt-nots, I find myself faced with the deep urge to cover it up by telling a little white lie. And then I instantly feel guilty, because by lying I have broken one of the ten commandments. It matters not that when I look up those ten commandments, I can't find the one about lying. The closest is to not bear false witness against my neighbour--but it seems that what I am really doing when I tell one of these lies is that I am bearing false witness against myself in order to please others.

After I got up and started the day, I checked my Facebook and did something I rarely do--took one of those silly quizzes. This one was about "success blockers" and after just eight questions, it decided that my personal success blocker was "feeling unworthy." It explained this goes back to the preschool years when our brain mostly is using theta waves, the same kind used for hypnosis and meditation. We sponge up everything that comes our way, and it affects our subconscious for the rest of our life. That fit in pretty well with what I'd just been thinking about, don't you think?

So sometimes I lie because I feel unworthy, or more likely unapproved, and need people to think well of me--while at other times I feel I must cover up my illegal feelings of worthiness (pride, you know) to prove my humility. It's a hopeless balancing act, an unattainable tiptoe walk along a narrow fence line. Yet I can't seem to avoid it because it is buried deep inside me and I know it goes way back to my earliest days when I was faced with expectations that, in reflection, I think were impossible for a child to live up to.

I know those in authority over me meant well; I know they were trying their best to themselves obey God and be humble yet approved, and I have no doubt that they were probably raised under stronger strictures that I ever was. I even have no doubt that I've passed some of this on to my own children, while at the same time trying to be more relaxed and approving, then feeling guilty for doing so in case it might lead them astray.

Yes, I'm an adult now and have been for 40 plus years. Yes, I should be able to overcome that beginning. Or at least be able to figure out what parts of my upbringing were an overreaction and set that aside, holding to the many parts which were good. And yes, I've tried. And tried and tried. Occasionally I manage, a bit. But then I find myself telling another little white lie, quite frequently in fact.

Am I alone? Am I hopeless? Should I be trying harder? Am I "unapproved" by God because of all this? Is there a way out, an escape? The video I watched offered a free course on how to set aside one's success blockers and become successful--but I turned off the video at that point because I had that little voice in the back of my mind warning me against "worldly methods" ... but what else am I supposed to do? Why does it seem like all my prayers and Bible study and church attendance and participation and submission and seeking the guidance of God's Spirit, and so on and on and on, is not helping either?

Do you face this struggle? Is there an answer in this lifetime? How do those perfect, approved Christians do it? Or are they struggling, too? And maybe telling their own little white lies (and maybe even big ones sometimes)?

Thursday, 5 April 2018

Fitting the Puzzle Pieces Together

(Journaled February 20 ... and following up from my previous post!)

Sometimes life just seems to carry on, day after day, like a pile of jigsaw pieces scattered over a table, with no obvious pattern, direction, or picture emerging.

And then, all of a sudden, it seems like a few jigsaw pieces suddenly fall into place and, wonderful surprise, a piece of the picture emerges!

I've been having some of those serendipitous (as in, I'm sure, providential rather than accidental!) experiences lately. I was wondering and praying so long about what to do in regards to meeting with the church, feeling discouraged, not knowing where I might belong or be of help. Then we went through a "Spiritual Disciplines" study (which I'd written years ago, led once, and then shelved) at our house church gathering, and it surprisingly has given me a sense of Father's direction more than I've experienced or expected for a long time. Meantime, I started attending Anglican services (traditional ones, following the Book of Common Prayer) early on Sunday mornings, and I feel more and more at home there, though I still don't know what my part might be.

And daily, I'm so enjoying using Phyllis Tickles interdenominational Divine Hours and The Common Prayer pocket ed.(though I've also used the full edition in the past) and the Hymns of the Living Faith (which brings back so many memories of my Free Methodist childhood) and of course the Bible, using a read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year chronological process for personal devotions, as well as my own prayer lists.

I have found myself actually managing to cut way back from sugar and chocolate and baked goodies for Lent. And have come to a much better understanding about tithes and offerings--from several sources at once. And rewatched The Shack movie with friends and was reminded of God's love, which gave me a renewed trust in Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu (the Holy Spirit) despite life's circumstances.

I've been spending time with Catholic folks and fellow teachers through a Catholic school I do tutoring contract for. I've also been amazed by the way Father has been bringing Christian writers and writing into my life lately, as I'd been feeling really quite conflicted about the state of "Christian writing" in the past few years. A friend's new memoir was an encouragement, even a revelation to me of God's work in her life even with all its ups and downs. And I've discovered some really helpful websites where Christian writers have been sharing their writing journeys from the perspective of being believers.

I attended a talk recently at our local college by a First Nations friend, Greg Younging, and bought a copy of his new aboriginal writer's style guide, Elements of Indigenous Style, which I'm looking forward to reading and using, as I have been looking for clearer direction in my own writing around indigenous issues on my HaidaGwaiiBuilding Bridges website and elsewhere. Although I've been married for 35 years to a First Nations man and we have 5 children with native status, and I've been deeply involved in many indigenous activities, I've become rather paralyzed with fear about writing on indigenous issues as a white person. I feel this book is an answer to help me overcome my fears and write responsibly and thoughtfully.

Even spending some time the other day talking with some eager "Mormon missionary boys" and seeing their love for the Lord and at the same time being able to share the gospel of Christ as I've known and understood it, encouraged me to reflect more clearly on what I really believe and why, share my faith more openly, and listen to others, find where they are on their spiritual journey, and share thoughts with them from my own experiences.

I am seeing God's path and ministry for me, at least in this season of my life, is to live His love to a wide variety of people--and leave the judging to Him, the only truly knowing and understanding judge of each heart. Sometimes I've felt worry and guilt because of thoughts that I might be too "liberal" and not "strictly evangelical Christian" as in how I was brought up. But here I am, and God knows my heart, and I am becoming far more assured that He is directing my paths, and giving me courage to share the gospel of the cross of Christ, and love Him and others with His love while leaving the work of the Holy Spirit up to Him. I do believe, more and more, that God is powerful enough to do His part (I think we often don't really believe that...) and that I can trust Him even when I can't "see" the answers to my prayers or understand His ways with my so-limited human heart.

A recent blog post from the Simple Church Journal, "Starting Churches Is Not the Mission," (by Roger Thoman) was a real encouragement to me, and a confirmation of how those jigsaw pieces in my spiritual puzzle have been fitting together. It stated:

Our mission always begins with people. The people whom God has called us to.... That is where we must begin to walk out an organic, Jesus-following, fruitful lifestyle with a Scriptural mission. And every one of us have different people that we are called to. Some of us are called to encourage and support out-of-church believers.... Some of us are called to work with people on the streets.... Some of us are called primarily to care for our own family for a season.... Some of us are called to work with [people of other religious beliefs].... Some of us are called to work primarily with [the groups of people we encounter in our work or recreation].... The ministry of reaching people, making disciples ... begins with the context of the people that God called you to.... the methods, and tools, and strategies will come out of the people you are called to work among. Stay there! ....focus on your mission to bring the Gospel and make disciples (followers) within that unique context.

Wednesday, 4 April 2018

"Come Out From Among Unbelievers" Or ??

(Originally journaled February 15, 2018)

2 Corinthians 6: 14-18:
"Don't team up with those who are unbelievers. How can righteousness be a partner with wickedness? How can light live with darkness? What harmony can there be between Christ and the devil? .... For we are the temple of the living God...
Therefore come out from among believers,
and separate yourselves from them, says the LORD.
Don't touch your filthy things,
and I will welcome you.
And I will be your Father,
and you will be my sons and daughters,
says the LORD Almighty."

Dear God, how far are we to take this "come out from among unbelievers"? This seems so harsh. How will they know we are Christians by our love if we aren't living Your love in relationship to them?

And how do we know whether or not others are truly seeking and following You--and when what they believe seems perhaps quite similar to my beliefs but is different in some points--and even whether or not I myself am truly seeking and following You? It just seems like this is a lot more complex than this scriptural advice might suggest.

Am I to totally avoid people who claim to be Christians but have what seem to be "fringe" beliefs--or whose lives, political leanings, even church services seem to have bought into the surrounding culture? Or? Am I to totally avoid people who are not believers? How then do I reach out with the gospel? And what if I'm not even sure about what I believe and whether or not I'm really on Your path?

Please, please show me Yourself, show me Your truth, show me Father, Jesus, and your Holy Spirit. Help me to trust You, seek You, obey You, follow You. Please give me discernment. Please give me Your wisdom.  I want to trust You, no matter how things seem to me. I don't want to judge others, but leave judgment to You. How does that fit in with "coming out"?

Wednesday, 7 March 2018


(originally journaled February 9, 2018)

I've been longing for a deeper walk with You, Lord.

I was listening to a radio program and one word, especially, hit me--"transcendent."

I have longed for years and years for opportunities to really study--but it never seemed the time was right, even though I got to kind of study alongside my husband when he was in Bible school; and to write and lead Bible Studies; and write those church newsletter articles; and participate in the street ministry; and blog, too.

And, recently, speaking engagements for Christian writers' groups (which made me feel a bit hypocritical, and actually made me realize how far I'd drifted from You).

And doing the Spiritual Disciplines study this winter.

But that word, "transcendent," (which was actually being used in a discussion about artificial intelligence [AI] and where it is taking us ... and the difference between super machine intelligence and general intelligence ... and how the latter is what, so far, separates us from machine intelligence)...

Well, You spoke to me through that word. I realized that in the past, my longing for study, though not wrong, was more based in my love of learning--a more intellectual, reasoning kind of approach--while now, in my older age, I am experiencing a longing to know You in a more intimate way.

To grow into Your mind (as in "Put on the mind of Christ") and to live in Your love and allow You to share it with others through me.

I did go through a time (or times, maybe) when I would hear Your voice and write it down and share it with others). But in that long period of depression and/or exhaustion, I seemed to totally lose that.

I am enjoying, even looking forward to my devotions again, with Your word and hymns and the Divine Hours and my written prayers. But I end with a feeling of "but shouldn't there be more?" I long to meditate, to hear Your voice. How?

Maybe I need to set aside my annual "read the Bible through" and just focus on one short scripture passage a day? And not forget to ask You to speak to me? "Centering prayer?" And not be afraid to write down what I hear--or don't.

Yes, I have been afraid. For a long time. Afraid to move from a rational (along with some emotional--peace, joy, etc.) knowing of You, to a more transcendent relationship with You--The Transcendent One.


(And then I opened the hymn book and the first words I saw:
     Be very sure, be very sure
     Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock.
     That Rock is Jesus ... the only one!)

Monday, 26 February 2018

Those People

(originally journaled January 29, 2018)

I woke up suddenly from a dream in which 3 or 4 "street people" I am friends with were sitting in my house visiting and having coffee. This house was in the downtown area, and looking out the kitchen window, we could see other street people milling around down on the street.

As my friends got up and were leaving, lots of other street people came rushing in. But instead of going upstairs to the kitchen/living room area, they rushed in the bedroom area on the main floor where our family sleeps. I was nervous because these people sat down on our beds and easy chairs, and some of them had wet themselves and/or were dirty, and I was worried about some of them taking away personal items because I didn't know them.

I had to run upstairs to get coffee and food from the kitchen and then bring it downstairs to serve them. And some of them didn't seem to think I was hurrying fast enough. One lady I didn't know came and asked me for uncooked rice to take with her, and I told her I only had what I'd already cooked for my family for supper. She kept pushing me, being really insistent and demanding, and as I woke up, I was thinking, "Oh, I need to signal a couple of the people here who I know to come and rescue me from her," because I used to do that when I was with the God's Kitchen street ministry, and it always helped.

Then I woke from my dream and my stomach was churning and my head hurting, and the details stayed so strong and clear. I tried to distract myself by checking Facebook and even wrote a blog article on a totally different topic.  But I still couldn't shake the dream or settle my tummy. So I decided to write in my journal as that usually helps me unwind a bit. It did help me stop shaking but I still was feeling flustered.

I guess my concern for street people and others in various difficulties is deep within. And I still feel badly for stepping out on the God's Kitchen street ministry when my health was very poor for a time. In fact, I had to step out of all my activities other than family and work at that time, so I shouldn't feel guilty, should I?  I really was overwhelmed. But that was some time ago, and I've restarted a variety of activities, but not the street ministry which, when I think of it, exhausts me just to consider it. And to think that for a long time, I found it so energizing and joyful. What happened?

Sometimes I also feel guilty because I get annoyed about people who are pushy and demanding and feel entitled--but don't make any effort to change things or do things for themselves (or so it seems to me). I believe that we, as Christians, are to help the poor, but I feel conflicted about the poor who seem to actually enjoy their lifestyle, including drugs, alcohol, panhandling, and so on, and are really demanding to be served and taken care of.

There was a time when I wanted to be able to invite street people into our home for coffee. And I did, sometimes, at least the ones who were relatively safe, in my judgment. But my husband and children were really opposed--and probably for good reason.

My mom, when I was growing up, invited all kinds of "strange" people into our home for meals and events like Christmas, and fed them and gave them clothes, but they were people who were at least clean and had some kind of roof over their heads (ie. they were not living rough, though they were often very poor), and those who weren't overly disabled made some effort to be self-sufficient. They were always really grateful and I only ever remember one man (and his adult children) who was demanding and seemed to feel entitled. They also were not "drunks," and I don't think we actually knew any "druggies," although some of my friends my age were using marijuana and speed and such, but I don't think my parents had any idea about that.

So our family was helpful and kind to "odd" people, but I think those with addictions or really "non-Christian" lifestyles were just so outside our church/social circle. There weren't a lot of "drunks" in our small town, or at least they weren't really apparent to us. I don't even think it was a "religious" separation. We just lived very different lives, and even lived in different areas (the old saying, "living on the wrong side of the tracks," was a reality at that time). I know, looking back, that I was really ignorant and naive about students at school who came from "rough" backgrounds. I knew they were there, but they were in different classes/streams, and they tended to drop out as soon as they could.

Students from "those families" seemed to live a separate existence from the rest of us, and we didn't do anything about it because we really didn't recognize it--and I suppose our parents and other adults in our church/social circle were doing their best to protect us from evil influences? My parents were not "racist" or "upper class" or anything. And they certainly didn't intend to be prejudiced. In fact, most people thought my parents were a bit odd because they invited in all those "weird" people, and had friends of all different races and economic levels.

So I wasn't really even aware of people living rough, or on the skids, or addicted when I was growing up. When we'd go to the big city of Vancouver, we'd go downtown shopping at Woodwards, in the area now known as the Downtown East Side (DTES), and we might see the odd person passed out on the sidewalk or hanging around drunk at the doors of bars, but we felt safe, pretty much, and really didn't have any real connection. I suspect there may have been a lot of alcohol abuse back in the day, even in "church" families, but people kept it hidden in the closet.

Things are so different now. So many more people on the street, so much more obvious. So many people with drug and alcohol addictions, and it seems like nearly every family experiences to some degree the fallout of addictions from someone in their family or close friends. It seems like everything is out of the closet now, and though that really is a good thing in some ways, it perhaps means that with that knowledge, we have an increased responsibility to do something about it.  But still, with all that staring us in the face, it is so easy for so many people to live separate lives and fear and look down on "those people."

I'm grateful for those years I spent with God's Kitchen. I'm seeking God's direction on whether to return and help out again there. I got to know so many street people as dear friends. 

But then I have dreams like the one I just described and I realize that I still struggle with the ones who (it seems to me...) are demanding, greedy, entitled, pushy ... and yes, lazy...

Grant me Your wisdom and love, dear God. Please.

Saturday, 24 February 2018

Talking to Father about Heaven (and Hell)

(originally journaled Jan 24, 2018)

I was just singing "What a day that will be when my Jesus I shall see, When I look upon His face, The One who saved me by His grace..." and I think I may have figured something out ... about why I'm so ambivalent about the whole idea of "heaven."

While I DO WANT TO BE WITH JESUS, I've found myself avoiding (sometimes almost "doubting") about heaven; yet it hasn't really seemed like doubting. As I was singing this hymn, it suddenly occurred to me that one reason I avoid thinking about heaven and even avoid singing songs like that, is maybe that's where people like my mom and dad and other loved ones are. And if I don't think about heaven, then I don't have to think too much about, and miss, and feel lonely for those who've gone on before.

And (getting to the core of this), not have to deal with my regrets, and with my guilt for not having been loving enough, and having been somewhat regretful about caretaking.

And by avoiding thinking about heaven, I can avoid remembering people when they were "falling apart" like my mom with her dementia and my dad when he was so disappointed to find out he had terminal cancer and would die at 82 instead of 90 like he, for some reason, had planned. And, yes, I can avoid thinking about myself growing old and possibly falling apart one of these days, too.

To be honest (just facing this, right now), it's also easier for me to think of people as "just gone" than to think of them still alive somewhere. And it really bothers me to think of them "looking down" at me--with all my failures. So many people seem to take comfort in that idea of their loved ones looking down and continuing to take care of them or whatever. At least that seems to be a really common Facebook theme! Though I tend to think it is unlikely they'd be doing that, because I can't find any Biblical reference to such a thing, to begin with; besides, if it's true that "there is no sorrow there, no more burdens to bear, no more sickness, no pain, no more crying over there" as the song lyrics say and scripture seems to back up, they couldn't be seeing our miserable world, could they? Could they?

I guess the other reason I have trouble thinking about heaven is that it then brings up the whole question of hell. It seems like most people I know don't even believe in hell anymore--though the ones that do, seem to hold with rather extreme "hellfire and brimstone" scenarios. I mean, maybe it's good not to "scare people into getting saved" by holding terrifying descriptions of hell over their heads, but it just seems that people have either decided that "God loves everyone and He's taking them all to heaven eventually," or, if people are really, really bad, maybe they'll go to hell, but it will only be those "very worst" people. (But I wonder, where then does one draw that line?)

I guess some people just believe that this life is "all there is"--but the thing is, most people I know (including people of many different religions, or at least beliefs or spirituality or whatever) do believe in some kind of positive after-experience, even if it's something like being absorbed back into the great spirit, or into Mother Nature, Gaia, the universe, or even nirvana, nothingness.

It's a negative eternal alternative they don't want to believe in. Even many of those who most strongly claim that this life is all there is, suddenly seem to waver when they lose someone close to them or are forced to face their own mortality when cancer or whatever strikes (though in the latter case, they may try even harder to act tough about their "this is all there is" belief and stick to their theory as desperately as possible.

But: is there a hell ... whether it's a fire and brimstone place, or a waiting for judgment day place, or even "death and separation from God forever" (which IS scary and we seem to want to avoid that, too, even if we claim to be secular and just another kind of animal)?

I was brought up to believe in a very real, vivid, forever hell as a place of great suffering, surrounded by demons and very evil people. And yes, it is very hard to deny, or even soften up in some way, what you've been taught from birth.

But I DO struggle with the thought of people--most people, in fact--who:

  • haven't heard the gospel (and that's my fault, right?)
  • have been born into terrible families and brought up very badly
  • have died before being old enough to understand the gospel and be saved (and/or baptized)
  • have been trained up from infancy to believe strongly in another religion or in a semi-Christian sect (or no religion at all)
  • have lived way better lives than many so-called "born again Christians"
  • have loved the Lord and followed Him all their lives but don't happen to belong to "our denomination" and don't believe and follow God exactly like "we" do...
I DO struggle with the thought of people like this getting thrown into that eternal suffering and punishment I was taught about. And it seems that as long as I feel unresolved about that, how can I feel joyful and anticipatory about heaven? 

On the other hand, if people have this happy-clappy idea that everyone (or almost everyone) goes to heaven or some other happy place, then will they personally feel any need to really follow Jesus?

Though, in my experience at least, I wouldn't want to live THIS life without Jesus--never mind eternity without Him. So maybe that's another reason I don't think so much about heaven: because the Kingdom of God IS here, now, something to be enjoyed, lived in and with already, with Jesus, Father, Spirit every day. Yes! In that sense, heaven isn't just the goal, the reward, something to hope for a look forward to; it's a present, living reality, too, even as we are surrounded by all that is not heavenly. 

"Hell on earth": what about that?

Please help me, dear God, to know the truth. Please. Thank You.

(And then I opened my Bible and there was Matthew 18:7-9....)