dan

“You take that degree, and you be proud of the work you’ve done.  Now, do you see the paradox?  You’ll be professionals.  You’ll really be professionals, and be proud of that.  But that’s not what will give you access to do this kind of work.  It’s the kind of question you do ask (how do I help someone with something in their story that I haven’t dealt with in my own), that’s the kind of heart that will do the kind of work.”

It’s not how smart I am, how many theories I know, how good my interpretations are, that will help me be a good therapist.  It’s seeing and understanding and embracing my weaknesses, and seeing those weaknesses as strengths.  That’s the paradox…that strength is found in weakness.  I am so thankful to be somewhere, to sit under the teaching of people, who call me to dare to go to the depths of darkness in order to find resurrection, and so that I can help others experience resurrection.

O’Donnell

“People who have the capacity for depression actually says something hopeful, because it means they still long for relationship.”

the shack, part deuce

A year and a half ago, I wrote a very highly-charged blog post on the book, The Shack. Feel free to read here. Looking back on it, there are a few things I wrote that I don’t agree with anymore, which I am okay with.  God is changing and shaping me…I think that main thing I am referring to is the part where I wrote that I think there is a hierarchy in the Trinity.  I realize now that a hierarchy in the Trinity is both heretical and extremely dangerous.

A year and a half later, people are still debating the book.  I never knew God’s love felt so threatening to people.

Today though, I found a blog post by Tim Keller, who is a PCA pastor at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, where my friend Bethany works.  It is one of the more honest blog posts I have read on The Shack.  I appreciated Keller’s attempt at pointing out both the strengths and the weaknesses of The Shack, instead of just slamming the book all together like some pastors.  And I found it interesting that John Piper decided to Tweet only about the part where Keller points out the flaws of The Shack, instead of taking in and acknowledging the whole picture.  Keller emphasizes the importance of taking in both sides of God…a God who is holy and a God of unconditional love, and references C.S. Lewis as an attempt to reconcile those two sides.

We need more pastors like Keller, who are willing to acknowledge BOTH the good and the flaws, and that allow people to wrestle with both.  God is a complex God.  So issues of theology are going to be complex issues.  Theology is not something we are going to have cut and dry answers in.

Why are we so scared of a God of unconditional love?  To me, it is God’s love that is undoing…not the judgmental, people are supposedly going to hell part.  People need love, not judgment.  It is love that makes me want to follow God and obey Him…I am broken over my sin…but only because I know that God loves me so much in my sin, that He chooses to love me as a husband loves his bride in all my failings.  That is a God I want to follow.  That is a God worth giving my life for.

world cup and prostitution

I’ve read several articles lately, and emailed with a friend, about how South Africa wants to legalize prostitution for the 2010 World Cup.  The fact that this discussion is even being had by politicians of all people makes me sick…and this is in a country with one of the highest AIDS rates in the world.  People want sex so badly that they are willing to risk being infected with AIDS.  I’ve been reading articles from both sides…the sides condemning it, and the sides where women who are prostitutes are claiming that they welcome it…bullshit.  I want to know who is paying them to say that…or threatening to kill them if they do not say it.

My day has been filled with learning about addiction and prostitution.  Just another day in the life of a counseling student…and another day where I don’t know what to do with the pain of the stories I hear and see.  I don’t know what to do with the pain and the tears that fill my eyes…other than to grieve and beg Jesus to return faster.  I hate it.  I hate the way women are treated, as commodities and objects.  I hate what sex has become not just in Western culture, but internationally…that people would crave sex so badly that they would pay ridiculous (and sometimes not so ridiculous) amounts of money to have sex with women and children.

Prostitution is not a choice.  It is the result of numerous factors.  And it makes me want to throw up.  Who will be there for the women who are raped and in a system that is not their choice in South Africa?  Who will be brave enough to be the voice for the women who are stuck in a hellacious system?  Who will stand up and say, this is not okay?

What is sad is that the government in South Africa is saying that one of the things that would make the World Cup a success in their country is the legalizing of prostitution.  I didn’t know that the success of sporting events was measured on whether or not women’s bodies are for sale.

Legalizing prostitution in South Africa for the 2010 World Cup is not okay.

Alcoholics Anonymous

I’m taking Substance Abuse this semester.  Which means I have to go to an AA meeting.  By Wednesday.

I am going for school.  But am I also going for myself?

I. am. terrified.

therapy meanderings

It isn’t school that teaches you how to be a good therapist.  It isn’t theories.  It isn’t learning technique.

The school of therapy happens in your heart, in your own story.

It happens in the courage that has to be summoned to keep going through your heartache and pain, to keep pulling back the layers, to keep being open to having eyes to see and ears to hear, to not settle for anything less than truth.  I don’t think I would even begin to know how to sit and listen to another person if I did not first sit and listen to myself.

Maybe the reason we want to be therapists is because there is something in us that desperately wants more…wants to understand more, wants to weep more, wants to rejoice more.

O’Donnell talks all the time about what it means to bear the anxiety of another person, about sitting with another person and bearing what they currently cannot.  Whenever she says that, there is something in me that strongly resonates, like, I know what that is like.  I feel like I could give a whole lecture on what that means…and at the same time, there is something in me that struggles for words.  I watch Amanda in therapy sessions, in emails, in phone calls, bear what I cannot.  I watch her fight for my heart, struggle to know my story, help me put words to what feels wordless.  She is not just my therapist…she is teaching me how to be a therapist.

On some feedback I got from my PF last year, I was cautioned to not always assume I know what the other person needs based on my own countertransference…basically that means, what works for me and soothes me may not be what works for the other person.  I think this has stuck in my mind a lot the past year…rolling it around, trying to figure out then how do I figure out what the other person needs, how do I meet the other person where they are.  I don’t think I have this quite figured out yet, and don’t know that I will until I start practicing, and even then, the answer will change with every client.  But I am learning that the other person needs me to be able to listen to my heart, to know my own self enough to be able to hold their feelings that they cannot at the moment.  I am seeing how being a therapist is a calling, because not everyone can or wants to bear the awareness of themselves and those around them that is required of a therapist…and I think this makes therapy one of the hardest, loneliest jobs that there is…and maybe one of the most rewarding.

I wrote on my facebook status last night that I never would have been able to guess that the primary way I would be learning about God nowadays would be through my relationship with my therapist.  I’ve noticed that when we’re discussing theology in class, my mind is always going back to something with Amanda.  Amanda and I rarely talk directly about theology or God…not on purpose, I think that is just how we are together.  But I have known God in a unique and refreshing way through my relationship with her.  I am anxious for the day when I hopefully get to be that to another person on the other side.

So there are my therapist meanderings for the day.

How do you put words to something you have no words for?

holy spirit musings

I had to write a paper due today on my doctrine of the Holy Spirit.  Yikes.  And I only had 2 pages to do it.  I’m not really sure what I wrote about.  To me, the Holy Spirit is the most mysterious part of the Trinity, and the hardest to put language to.  I’m in a feminist theology reading group for my Theology class, and the thing I have been thinking about the most with the Holy Spirit is how He is usually talked about as the lesser being in the Trinity; He is usually assigned the more feminine characteristics in the Trinity; and women have typically been seen as “lesser than” throughout history, and even today, the male is often elevated above the female as being the more spiritual leader.  I just thought it was ironic, and has made me realize there is so much danger in talking about the Trinity in hierarchical language.  If we talk about the Holy Spirit as being lower than the Father and Son, and assign Him feminine characteristics, then what are we saying about women?

Of course, I couldn’t unpack this in 2 pages in my paper.  So here is what I wrote about…would love to know any thoughts/feedback you have…or if you think I am completely off the mark, and why. 

The Holy Spirit, perhaps more so than any other being within the Trinity, is a mysterious person whose presence ranges from subtle to obvious.  Shrouded in the enigma of the three-in-one with God the Father and God the Son, the Holy Spirit plays a unique role in the life of the believer and throughout God’s creation.  Throughout the Bible, the Hebrew word ruach and the Greek word pneuma are translated as “breath,” “wind,” or “spirit;” both are used to describe the being and work of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit breathes life into all of God’s creation, connecting the human spirit to the Spirit of God the Father; He is always present, though not always understood; He is the means through which God works in and through His people in a ministry of healing and liberating a world that awaits the return of Christ. and the Greek word

Humanity lives in the age of the New Covenant, where Jesus Christ has died and risen again, thus restoring humanity’s relationship with God.  Because Christ has restored humanity’s communion with God, the Holy Spirit is able to mediate a direct relationship between God and His people.  The Holy Spirit is the agent that hears the prayers and cries of God’s creation, making the groans of creation known to the Father and providing assurance of comfort for God’s people.  Throughout the New Testament, pneuma refers to the human spirit as belonging to the spiritual realm, implying that the human spirit is the aspect of a person through which God most immediately encounters him or her; God speaks to people through the Spirit in the natural created world, in personal relationship with Christ, and in people’s relationships between each other.  The Holy Spirit uniquely connects the human heart to God, revealing Jesus Christ and conforming God’s people more to the person of Christ.  Through the Holy Spirit, God moves in His people to be the hands and feet of Christ in a broken world.

Jesus was the wholly unique Man of the Spirit, the bearer of the Spirit of God, and was the perfect example of what it means to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  Jesus’ ministry was one of physical and spiritual liberation and healing.  Wherever there is healing and liberation, the Holy Spirit is present.  “God’s work outwards is an expression of what He is eternally.  The Spirit, we might say, is the motor of that divine movement outwards, just as the Son is its focus and model.”  The Holy Spirit is the character in the gospel story that makes the narrative of Jesus’ liberating ministry present in the here and now, both in God’s people and the world.  As Jurgen Moltmann frames it, the Holy Spirit is present and working wherever there is an affirmation of life, whether that be life over death, liberation over oppression, justice over injustice, etc.

The Holy Spirit is always present in the world, though it is possible to miss Him.  However, He is always working, always directing the hearts and eyes of creation heavenward towards the Father.  God connects and speaks to the heart of His people through the Holy Spirit, and in the process, works towards conforming His children to that of His Son.  Christ has both provided the perfect example of what it means to live a life that is sensitive to the work of the Spirit, and through His ministry, has shown that the presence of Holy Spirit is seen in the presence of liberation and healing, both in the natural created world and in humanity.

if i find my way, how much will i find?

The title is a line from a song I’m listening to right now called In the Sun by Joseph Arthur…not because it necessarily has a ton to do with my writing.  I usually do the title last, but I like the song.

I am stubborn when it comes to my body.  I like to blame it on the athlete mentality.  I’ve broken 3 bones and had 5 surgeries already in my life.  Apparently I like to think I’m stubborn, but my body doesn’t get the memo in quite the same way my mind does.  God has usually used physically extreme things that happen to my body to wake me up to something in my life.  I mean, I basically became a Christian because of a broken hand I had to have surgery on my freshmen year of college.

Physical pain brings up a lot of emotion in me because of how it is tied to my story, mainly as an athlete, but also because of what my relationship with my parents has been like in the midst of those injuries.  In a word, terrifying.  Surgery is one of the most vulnerable places your body can be in.  It has been somewhat of a psychological nightmare every time I’ve had it.

I hate physical pain.  I do not listen to my body.  I guess that’s why God uses it a lot of times to knock me upside the head.

My back started hurting about 2 weeks ago.  How you ask?  As ridiculous as this sounds, I think it was therapy.  Go figure.  The first session Amanda and I had after Christmas, she was asking me to put some words to some sadness that I was feeling.  I was struggling to do so, and Amanda told me, “For some reason I picture your sadness being in your back.  I don’t know why.”  I kind of laughed at her and said that was funny because my back felt fine.  The rest of the session ended up being one of the most intense sessions I have had with Amanda because of where my mind went and some intense dissociation I experienced.  My body was incredibly tense the entire time.  As I was getting on the elevator to leave, and trying to recover from what I had just been through, I noticed a slight pain in my back.  Nothing major, and I remembered chuckling to myself because of Amanda’s earlier comment.

Amanda is never allowed to talk about my body ever again!!!!!!  The pain in my lower back has gotten progressively worse.  Of course, being the stubborn person that I am, I’ve ignored it.  I played through a stress fracture until it broke (which, I will admit, was probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done) when I was in college.  I can handle a little back pain.  I woke up this morning barely being able to move.  I’ve been stiff in the mornings for a while, but once I start moving around, the stiffness usually goes away.  Not the case today.  I tried to go on an easy walk through Discovery Park.  While the walk was beautiful, my back continued to be pissed at me.  I got home and have been mainly in my bed ever since because it hurts too much to move a lot.  Doing everything I knew, from stretching, icing, heat, and popping way too many Aleeve and ibuprofin, even asking people on facebook what to do, I broke down this afternoon.  I cried.  After doing everything I knew to do to make the pain go away (because you know, injuries always tend to heal in a matter of hours), I cried because it hurt so bad to move.  I have never, ever, ever, ever in my entire life cried over physical pain.  I did today.

Maybe Amanda was right…about the sadness.  Maybe the reason the tears came today was because of how sad I have been lately.  I teared up in Substance Abuse Wednesday because I watched one of my friends interacting with another person, and she was so happy.  I teared up because I’m sick of all the happy people (not that there are a ton at Mars Hill, but you know ).  I know I need the happy people.  But I am feeling very bitter, and apparently emotional towards them right now.  My life is going through a huge upheaval, and I just don’t feel happy, and I can’t fake the happiness.

And maybe, once again, God is trying to tell me something in my physical pain.  It’s different this time though.  The stubbornness is still there.  I found myself wishing someone would take care of me.  I have never wished that before…on the other hand, when I’ve been hurt, I’ve wanted the entire world to leave me alone, clenched my teeth, and taken care of myself.  I mean, I freaking cried!  I don’t cry over physical pain.  I wanted someone to take care of me, and I cried.  Oh, Amanda is going to have fun with this one on Monday.

poem

My friend from school, Andrew Bauman, wrote this and posted it on his blog.  The words struck me so deeply that I had to re-post it on mine:

Please don’t give me answers; though that is what I say, that is not what I long for in my broken chest.

I do not want your sympathy, your pat-bible verses, or your lofty promises of prayer.

No I want something much more sinister than that.

I ask you to suffer with me, to take my nails of depression and drive them into your self.

I ask you to be silent, shut your mouth, and open your hands. Don’t say you understand. There is no way in hell that you can fully know my misery, my mystery, no, I am not that small. Just touch me.

Will you hold my hand? Though cold and bony, will you embrace me tightly?

Can you wail as I wail, curse as I curse, pray as I pray?

I don’t want to be fixed, I want to be known.

I want your presence kneeling by my bed feeling useless, powerless, helpless… Yes, for then, for then, you will understand a small part of me that few have had the courage to know.

I recognize this will cost you greatly, but deep down I will learn my worth from the measure of your sacrifice.

Also, take a minute to check out the non-profit Andrew and his wife have just started called Collective Hope.  It is a beautiful thing to see dreams, no matter how wild they are, begin to birth life and take shape.