New This Year!

Originally uploaded by vtgard

I think I’ll plant some of these once I buy a house with some land.

I’m absolutely speechless. Sheer perfection.

John McCain’s Record of Opposing the Interests of GLBT Americans

OPPOSED Ending Discrimination Against GLBT Americans in the Workplace. Senator McCain cast a deciding vote against the federal Employment Non Discrimination Act.

OPPOSED Protecting GLBT Americans from Hate Crimes. Senator McCain voted three times against expanding the federal hate crimes law to include sexual orientation.

PROPONENT of Discriminatory Military Policy. Senator McCain supports Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and does not believe that gays should serve in the military.

OPPONENT of Equal Benefits for Same-Sex Couples. Senator McCain voted for the Defense of Marriage Act which prohibits same-sex couples from receiving federal rights and benefits in any state.

ACTIVELY SUPPORTED State Ban on Domestic Partnerships. Senator McCain campaigned for a ban on same-sex relationship recognition in his home state of Arizona – even appearing in a campaign television ad.

SUPPORTED the Confirmation of Anti-GLBT Equality Judges. Senator McCain voted to confirm President Bush’s judicial nominees who had taken anti-GLBT positions. He has pointed to Justice Samuel Alito as a role model for future Supreme Court appointments.

SUPPORTED a Discriminatory HIV/AIDS Policy. Senator McCain supported a Jesse Helms strategy to cut off funding for prevention efforts aimed at the gay community and voted to prohibit foreign nationals with HIV from immigrating to the United States.

OPPOSES the adoption of children by same-sex couples. Read about that here.

And there’s MORE!!

For more information: http://www.hrc.org/equality08/264.htm

You may not be familiar with the reference I’ve used for my title, but it’s a song in a 70’s-era Stephen Sondheim production called “Company.” The song is an hilarious depiction of a soon-to-be bride who is frantically making up excuses for why she’s NOT getting married–it’s wedding day jitters on steroids. Google it or, better yet, search it out on YouTube. Many famous Broadway actresses have recreated versions of the song.

All humor aside, the topic that has finally broken through to cure my writers’ block is not one of hilarity. It’s one of great joy. Today, July 4, 2008, Justin Ervin, my boyfriend of nearly two and a half years, joined hands with mine as we exchanged expressions of our love and commitment to one another. We exchanged rings and promised to love and honor each other as we journey together in this life, for the rest of our lives. Our commitment to this promise bears witness to each other and to those around us that our love is real, legitimate, and deserving of the title of “marriage.” It was a beautiful, joyous, moment, and one that I will never forget.

Justin is an amazing man. He’s loving and sensitive. His heart is compassionate for those who are less fortunate. He has a special gift for conversation, and makes people feel at ease when he’s around. He has inspired others to comment that knowing him makes them want to be better people. He’s SO intelligent! His command of vocabulary and the spoken language are beyond noteworthy, even to the point that it’s difficult for him to resist an occasional pun at the most unexpected moments (over which I often teasingly groan and roll my eyes, even though–lame as they may be–they really just endear him that much more to me). He has the most beautiful face which animates playfully when he’s in conversation, and his steely-blue eyes… oi, don’t get me started!

And yet, in the eyes of the State of North Carolina (and thus by decree of DOMA, also in the eyes of the Federal Government, to whom I pay taxes and by whose laws I abide), I didn’t get married today. I’m not exceedingly political, but I do feel a bit saddened that I’m not afforded the rights and privileges of heterosexuals who feel the same way about their life partners as I feel about mine.

In addition, I am saddened that my own family, whom I love deeply, will most likely not rejoice with Justin and me. They do not believe that it’s by God’s design that I am a homosexual, nor that I am afforded the gift of a homosexual partner with whom to share my life.* My sister, Vanessa, is the only immediate family member with whom I’ve shared today’s news. I know that she has difficulty with the religious implications, but she has made a pointed decision to support me and love me despite them, and I knew that she would want to know.

I’m really not quite sure how my parents or my brother are going to react–that’s my fault. Seven years ago, I pretty much closed the door on any real discussion about the matter, as a way of preventing a full-scale assault from my brother, Jonathan, whose fundamentalist views and opinions often were expressed as emotional hostility, anger, and hurtful rhetoric. (Here’s a blog that he wrote just before Thanksgiving of 2004 (three years after my separation/divorce/coming-out) when I asked if I could bring my first real boyfriend (whose name is CJ, not Justin) home. The hostility in that entry is palpable, and all the reasons that I wanted to invite my friend, who never really experienced the closeness of family that I have enjoyed, disintegrated. CJ never did see the loving family that I had told him so much about.)

I don’t mean to fault Jonathan or my parents. I know very intimately the struggle that they have, because I fought it for years–only I fought it against myself. Still, though I never doubted my parents’ love for me, my sister was the first of my immediate family to place her love for me over the struggle. She never treated me or CJ as though she was uncomfortable around either of us, and for that I am eternally grateful, and my heart swells with emotion when I consider how much I love her. In the years since then, my parents have become much more comfortable with my “gayness,” and I credit Justin’s amazing personality for much of that. I’m very happy that Justin is welcome at family gatherings without my having to ask, and that everyone treats him with kindness and respect. Jonathan seems to have mellowed a bit as well, if not in his opinions, at least in his outward behavior toward Justin and me–both as individuals and as a couple. Jonathan has reached out more to show kindness to me, and we are in the very early stages of having the relationship that brothers ought to have. (Check out this recent blog in which he presents me in a much more positive light.)

But accepting a boyfriend is, I imagine, a very different thing from accepting and supporting a gay marriage. I really don’t know what my parents and Jonathan will say or do when Justin and I arrive home on Sunday with wedding bands on our fingers. As I said before, I closed the door, so it’s my own fault that I have some anxiety about their reactions. But I’m ready to open the door again, and I hope that Mom, Dad and I will be able to have some productive dialogue about the matter.

~ I am my lover’s, and my lover is mine… Song of Solomon 6:3a

* Post Script: Mom, Dad and I had a very nice discussion on Sunday night. I was encouraged by how positively Dad spoke of Justin, and how affirming he was of Justin for me as a partner. I was also very encouraged to discover that Dad has not drawn any lines in the sand with regard to his belief. “I’m still learning,” he said. He remains open and actively listens for God’s direction. Mom and Dad were also able to share some of their feelings and concerns with regard to my journey over the past 7 years, and I’m very glad that we were able to get those things off our chests.

On February 12th, an openly gay 15 year-old boy named Larry, who was an eighth grader in Oxnard, CA, was murdered by a fellow eighth grader named Brandon. Larry was killed because he was gay. Days before he was murdered, Larry asked his killer to be his valentine…

I don’t want to be political. This is not political. I’m not a political person, but this is personal to me. A boy has been killed, and a number of lives have been ruined. And, somewhere along the line, the killer (Brandon) got the message that it’s so threatening, and so awful, and so horrific that Larry would want to be his valentine that killing Larry seemed to be the right thing to do. And when the message out there is so horrible, that–to be gay–you can get killed for it, we need to change the message.

Larry was not a second-class citizen. I am not a second-class citizen. IT IS OKAY IF YOU’RE GAY. I don’t care what people say; I don’t care what people think. And I know there are entire groups of people who face discrimination every single day, and we’re a long way from treating each other equally. All of it is unacceptable… ALL OF IT. But, I would like you to start paying attention to how often being gay is the punchline of a monologue, or how often gay jokes are in a movie. And that kind of message–laughing at someone because they’re gay–is just the beginning. It starts with laughing at someone, then it’s verbal abuse, then it’s physical abuse, and then it’s this kid Brandon killing a kid like Larry.

We must change our country, and we CAN do it. We can do it with our behavior, we can do it with our messages that we send our children, we can do it with our vote. This is an election year and there’s a lot of talk about change. I think one thing we should change is hate. Check on who you’re voting for. Does that person really, truly believe that we are all equal under the law? If you’re not sure, change your vote. We deserve better. My heart goes out to everybody involved in this horrible, horrible incident. The whole… all the families, and this poor… even… you know, Brandon’s life is changed because he did this.

~Ellen Degeneres, 2/29/08 Broadcast of the Ellen show.

Read the Los Angeles Times full story.

Once again, when the time comes for repose I find my mind filled with thoughts. As a general rule, thoughts at this time of night (1:00 a.m.) give rise to my anxiety levels, so I thought I might try to do my mind and heart some good by sorting some of them out in print.

I have an appointment in the morning with Dr. Tilley, my cardiologist. We’re doing a stress test and a follow-up cholesterol screening. I had blood work done six weeks ago, just prior to my discectomy, and the numbers weren’t so good. I’ve made no real progress since my heart surgery (August 2005). My weight is actually up (now around 255 lbs), and my cholesterol/triglycerides have also gone up since this time last year. Dr. Tilley and I spoke about changing my meds, but I told him that I wanted to see what I could accomplish in the six weeks that I’d be home. My eating, work, exercise, and rest habits were all compromised when I went to Manila, and I wanted to see if I could bring them back under some sort of control.

As I mentioned, I had a discectomy about six weeks ago to repair a ruptured disc (cervical 6-7), and I’ve been on leave since then. It has given me the time to try to implement some techniques to get my health under control: oatmeal every morning for breakfast, salads for lunch, walking daily. I feel as though I’ve done better with these strategies this time around, particularly the oatmeal, but I’m still overeating during other times of the day, and I’ve not kept my commitment to walk EVERY day.

I really don’t understand what’s causing me to sabotage myself every time I start to make a little progress. There has to be some psychological explanation. Perhaps I’m afraid of what the healthy, thin, happy me might become? Perhaps I’m afraid that, without my weight to use as an excuse, I’ll have nothing to blame but myself if I fail at something.

The thought of going back to work also has me feeling anxious. I’ve begun to sense that, despite all our efforts as a training team, we’re just running in circles because of the lack of support from other departments within our company. I was hoping for an opportunity to join the curriculum design team, but that has fallen through, and I’m having some difficulty getting emotionally and psychologically behind the company.

With Justin’s entrance to law school eminent, I’ve begun to consider what I might do with my life as well. Lately (and probably as a result of so much energy spent thinking about meals) I’ve been reminded of my dream to own and operate a café. Just a small place where people can come and enjoy a light lunch, snack, or dessert and a cup of coffee or espresso, as well as enjoy the company of others. It’s been a dream of mine for years, and it’s something I could get behind with 100% of my spirit. It seems like it would really suit my personality and lifestyle, combining the things I enjoy most: food, coffee, music, business, and people.

So, what to do?

I think the first thing is to figure out what it is that I’m holding on to. I was watching a TiVo’d episode of Oprah today in which she had enlisted the expertise of an “organizational guru” to help people de-clutter their homes. According to this gentleman, the clutter in our homes most assuredly is connected to the clutter in our lives. This sort of thinking resonates with me, and I believe that if I can figure out what’s cluttering up my life, the obstacles to my weight loss and subsequent overall good health would fall away…

There’s a very real sense – deep down – that I must make my peace with God. I’ve been wrestling with the angel for too long. I think that, in some way, my obesity is the result of a sometimes-not-so-subconscious act of defiance. It’s my way of saying, “God, I no longer trust you. You screwed up my life all that time when I was being obedient, and now, I’ll show you… I can screw it up just as good on my own!” The logic is dizzying, I know. But I really believe that’s what it boils down to.

But here’s the reality: God (or the Spirit-energy) didn’t screw up anything. I did. My own insecure sense of what was Right and True tipped the balance against me, and I traded true obedience for a two-dimensional picture of it. Now, I have the chance and the maturity to recognize what my life needs, and I’m still playing games. I’m using paper and crayons when I’ve got clay and a potter’s wheel…

Perhaps this blog is what I needed to get myself started on the right track again. Perhaps I just needed to accept my behavior as defiance, and allow myself to once again listen to and trust the heart of God.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. ~ John 10:27-28

It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’ve given myself insomnia via too many Diet Sunkists. I’ve been staying at my parents’ house for the last few days celebrating a belated Christmas, as my sister and her family have just returned from a four month “gig” in Puerto Rico. Her husband is a professional baseball umpire, and he was working the winter league there. I think it’s pretty cool that Sis and the kids have been able to go with “Dirk” on so many of his assignments. It has given the kids an opportunity to see many places they might not otherwise have seen, plus it’s good for them to be with their dad.

I’m concerned, though, that those days may soon be over, as Dirk has impressed upon my sister his strong desire that she acquire a job outside of the home. I’ve balked at the notion, considering that for nearly six months out of the year (not counting these winter league assignments) my sister has to run the house alone. And she pretty much does the same during the other six months, too. Sis is a great mom and homemaker, and she juggles more than one person really ought to have to handle. I know that there are plenty of two-income families, and certainly plenty of single moms raising kids. But it just seems to me that if a family can survive on one income, they ought to do everything in their power to do just that.

I’m not around Sis and Dirk as much as I’d like to be, so I don’t see the everyday interaction and the family dynamic as clearly. I’d like to think that I have an open enough mind that I would be able to recognize if there were such a need. Dirk’s position does not provide insurance for the family during the off season, so I can see why there might be a need for Sis to work in order to secure some group coverage. My concern, though, is that her leaving the home may create an illusion of security that might cause Dirk to slack off during the off season or, worse yet, not work as hard to find a career that supports the family should his “dream job” fall through (God forbid).

Plus, as I mentioned before, if Sis is working, the family trips will be a thing of the past. The kids lose their dad, and Sis loses her husband for half the year, every year.

A conversation with my boyfriend, Justin, reminded me of a paper I wrote when I was in seminary. It focuses on a Bible passage that has been a mainstay for me over the years. I’ve posted the essay and works cited page below. Feel free to read and post comments.

Introduction

When I was a boy living in North Carolina, my parents thought it would be a good idea if my brother and I played on a little-league baseball team. Up to that time, I had never really developed much of an interest in baseball (or any sport really), but I didn’t dislike it, so I went with an open mind. I had no skills whatsoever. No one had ever taught me to hit, to throw, or to catch. I didn’t know how to slide, and I wasn’t a great runner. When I got a chance at bat, I struck out. When I was standing in right field facing a rapidly approaching fly ball, I would close my eyes, tense up my arms, my head and my face, and pray that the ball wouldn’t hit me. When I tried to throw, the ball would go 10 feet and plummet to the ground. I didn’t understand that you had to work at it to get better. All I knew was that I couldn’t do what everyone else seemed to be able to do. The guys on the team would either groan their disapproval of my mistakes or laugh at them, and it wasn’t long before I began to dislike baseball….

Twenty years later, I still avoid action sports.

It’s a sad story, and not uncommon in its basic principles. People have spent years of their lives avoiding situations that might produce anxiety—fearful to try anything new because of the intense discomfort that those situations produce. Certain individuals may even develop major phobias and insecurities because of the perceived traumas in their lives, while others can experience similar anxiety-producing stimuli and emerge unscathed.

Studies indicate that “the general category of anxiety disorders is the most prevalent class of so-called mental illnesses in the United States, … more common than either alcohol abuse or depression.” Interestingly, there doesn’t seem to even be an actual clinical definition for “anxiety” per se. To be specific, “it is recognized that ‘anxiety’ itself has not been shown to exist, apart from the bodily states and client reports from which the existence of anxiousness is inferred” (my emphasis). However, in my biblical studies, I have repeatedly found anxiety’s definition. Noted preacher and author Dr. John MacArthur states it two ways. First, from a rather logical point of view: “Anxiety is, at its core, an inappropriate response in light of the circumstances.” To qualify “inappropriate,” one might suggest that MacArthur must have some sort of absolute. He provides it in this, his second definition: “Anxiety is blatant distrust of the power and love of God.”

Dr. William Backus, Christian psychologist and ordained Lutheran clergyman, maintains that science has amply demonstrated what Scripture well attests: that there is power in learning to influence behavior. “Yet,” Backus states, “explanations based only on psychological formulations, useful though they may be occasionally, fall far short of offering an ultimate explanation for maladaptive anxiety and avoidance.” The purpose of this paper, then, is to examine from a Christian perspective why people experience anxiety, and to discuss how secular therapy has found success in reducing patients’ anxiety by using methods that seem to have foundational support in Scripture.

An important biblical text is Philippians 4:6 – 9, which, along with Matthew 6:33, have been touted by MacArthur as “the most comprehensive portions of Scripture” dealing with anxiety, and are “foundational to understanding how God feels about anxiety and why He feels that way.” This paper will examine the Philippians passage, primarily, but others will also be mentioned as they relate to the topic.

I am most appreciative of Dr. Gary Habermas, whose lectures on the subject of emotional doubt have served as the impetus for this work. Information borrowed from Dr. Habermas and other sources will be documented in the form of a “works cited” page (at the end of the paper).

Be Anxious for Nothing

To begin to see how anxiety sufferers find healing through secular therapy, we must first look more closely at how Scripture approaches anxiety. As the Apostle Paul nears the close of his letter to the Philippians in chapter four, he begins a series of exhortations to his dear friends. He sets the stage in verse two by discussing a need for reconciliation between two women (no doubt a source of anxiety among some), and immediately follows this admonition by reminding these fellow Christians of a foundational truth: “Rejoice! … The Lord is near!” This is the very substance for the next bit of counsel: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” The truth of the matter, in other words, is that it is because the Lord is near (because He is not unacquainted with suffering) that we need not be anxious! Paul is acknowledging that, even in emotionally troubling times, we do not have cause for anxiety.

In his book, A Theological Introduction to the Book of Psalms, J. Clinton McCann, Jr. offers a similar insight in his commentary of Psalm 88, a psalm of desperate cries from the darkest depths.

… Psalm 88 not only provides us with a way to articulate in the most extreme way that “life isn’t right,” but it also offers testimony to the extremes that God is willing to go to demonstrate faithful love for humanity. As the psalmist in Psalm 88 suffered, so God’s Son suffered life’s worst for us. That is what the cross is about. God loves us that much!

… To read Psalm 88 reminds us that even when we stand in utter darkness, we do not stand alone. We stand with the psalmist of old. We stand with Christ on the cross. To cry into the darkness “O Lord, my God” (Ps. 88:1) is an act of solidarity with the communion of saints and an act of faith and hope—indeed, an affirmation of the hope the resurrection.

It is our hope in Christ’s resurrection that Paul points to when he says, “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” That God is a God of suffering is our ultimate victory over suffering and anxiety. Unfortunately, this is not the portion of God’s Truth upon which science relies.

Put Truth in the Place of Lies

It is also unfortunate that many individuals (myself included) who profess to belong to Christ still suffer from anxiety. Why is this so? In his article, First Aid in Counseling: the Threatened Nervous Breakdown, Frank Lake suggests that people suffer anxiety because they “insist on justifying [themselves] by works in a world in which human beings are so constituted that such a life, seriously maintained until the end, cannot fail to lead to depression and death of the spirit….” In other words, we’re human, and we’re sinners. Backus offers a similar explanation, reminiscent of Paul’s writings about the conflict of our natures in Ephesians 4 and 2 Corinthians 4. He writes, “This old nature is just as dedicated to opposing God and promoting the Devil’s program as the new personality is to loving and trusting God…. The major aim of this old personality is to push us to live in unrestricted independence from God.”

Even with this explanation, the means by which we oppose God as it relates to anxiety needs further exposition. Herein is where science has made an effort to understand anxiety. Drs. Frank Dattilio and Arthur Freeman, noted authors and editors of several publications on cognitive therapy, make the following allowance: “The issue of what produces or fuels a crisis is not simply defined by a particular situation or set of circumstances but rather by the individual’s perception of the event and his/her ability (or inability) to effectively cope with that circumstance” (my emphasis). Further, they state that “[at] its most basic level, cognitive therapy is based on the assumption that there is an interaction between how individuals think and how they subsequently feel and behave.”

William Backus and Marie Chapian, collaborators on several books written from a Christian psychological perspective, concur with this assumption, citing Proverbs 23:7 as their primary biblical support of the notion that “man’s feelings, passions and behavior are subject to and conditioned by the way he thinks.” Ergo, “Our feelings are caused by what we tell ourselves about our circumstances, whether in words or in attitudes.”

Perhaps this is why, in Philippians 4:8, Paul is very specific in his instruction as it relates to struggles with anxiety: “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

Several types of cognitive therapy are centered on this idea. In fact, “much of the cognitive-behavioral literature stresses the importance of relating symptoms to the misinterpretation of interoceptive cues [how the body feels] and catastrophic cognitions” (my emphasis). (A formal assessment has even been developed, called the Symptoms-Automatic Thoughts-Emotions-Behavior assessment, to help panic sufferers recognize the progression from the initial bodily sensation to their catastrophic responses, linked by false cognitions/beliefs like “I’m getting worse”, “I’m having a heart attack”, “I’m not going to make it”, “I’m going to die”, etc.) The goal of the therapist in cognitive-behavioral models is to “organize the trauma memory, and either directly or indirectly [alter] the victim’s schemas of self and world….” In other words, the patient is assisted in the replacement of—reconditioning—the old associations with new, less threatening, associations.

Backus and Chapian call their own version of this method “Misbelief Therapy.” Their three-step method involves (1) locating the misbeliefs, (2) removing them (arguing against them), and (3) replacing the misbeliefs with the truth. The major difference is that the “truth” Backus and Chapian speak of is based on the assurances from God’s Word.

Not surprisingly, both secular and Christian therapists report statistically significant success using these biblically based models. In fact, Dattilio and Freeman report that from 1970 to 1992 there was a 600% increase in professional interest in cognitive therapy.

If only the gospel message would spread so quickly!

Practice These Things

One of the likely reasons cognitive-behavioral techniques are becoming so popular is because they are “well adapted to short-term or brief therapy sessions,” no doubt a positive element in our health management plan-oriented society. Indeed, one can see how easily, in most circumstances, truth could be argued against the misbeliefs an anxiety sufferer tells himself about a particular fear or situation. For that session, or short series of sessions, the anxiety-causing stimuli may indeed be desensitized, with the patient free from the trauma for an extended period of time. The problem remains, however, when the patient doesn’t apply the conditioned truth in other circumstances. The knowledge of truth must become the application of truth.

God’s Word instructs us that “faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” This is likely Paul’s thinking when he tells the Philippians to put into practice all they have “learned or received or heard … or seen.” MacArthur teaches that “Paul’s words speak of action that’s repetitious or continuous,” much like a musician practices an instrument or a doctor practices medicine. The idea conveys a routine, or pattern of life. Backus also supports this notion: “Faith will always prompt and urge us to go ahead and do our duty in spite of our fears. So by actually facing our fear, and doing our duty regardless of our impulse to avoid doing what we ought to, we find that faith causes us to do what will, in the long run, cure our fears—though in the short run it may create some discomfort.”

Conclusion

It is tragic that people are so debilitated by the lies they allow themselves to believe. How much richer would our lives be if we would only believe and activate the truth evident in the resurrection: that in Christ we can persevere through situations that threaten humiliation, failure, ridicule, or even death? The fullness of life is in this truth; that we may “rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.” This is our hope, issued by the very words of Christ, which assures us that in Him we may have peace: “In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world!”

Works Cited

Bruce A. Thyer, and Pamela Birsinger, “Treatment of Clients with Anxiety Disorders,” Cognitive and Behavioral Treatment: Methods and Applications, Ed. Donald K. Granvold (Belmont: Brooks/Cole Publishing Company, 1994)

John MacArthur, Jr., Anxiety Attacked (Wheaton: Victor Books, 1993)

William Backus, The Good News About Worry (Minneapolis: Bethany House Publishers, 1991)

Philippians 4:2 – 5

J. Clinton McCann, Jr., A Theological Introduction to the Book of Psalms

Frank Lake, “First Aid in Counseling: the Threatened Nervous Breakdown,” Expository Times, June 1967

Philippians 4:6

Philippians 4:7

Both 2 Corinthians 4:7 and Ephesians 4:17-24 speak of the paradox of Christ’s eternal spirit indwelling us, even though we are still sinners and finite.

Frank M. Dattilio and Arthur Freeman, ed., Cognitive-Behavioral Strategies in Crisis Intervention (New York: The Guilford Press, 1994)

William Backus and Marie Chapian, Telling Yourself the Truth (Minneapolis: Bethany House Publishers, 1980)

John G. Allen and Lisa Lewis, “A conceptual framework for treating traumatic memories and its application to EMDR,” Bulletin of the Menninger Clinic, Spring 96, Database: Academic Search Elite

Gary Habermas, Introduction to Apologetics, Liberty Baptist Theological Seminary, Lynchburg. 7 September 2000

James 2:17

Philippians 4:9

Romans 5:3-4

John 16:33

The following entry was originally written in August 2006

I wonder what it is that makes a person afraid of the truth. I think that perhaps at its marrow it has a great deal to do with having to acknowledge one’s own inadequacy to survive independently of the rest of the world. There seems to be a great need for people to prove themselves as strong… or beautiful… or powerful… or wealthy… or of great character… or anything besides the honest reality…

…The reality that we have moments of weakness… of mediocrity… of inadequacy… and that, by and large, these are elements that remain with us throughout our time on this planet. It is our nature as human beings to fall short of perfection (and, most often, immeasurably far).

One might argue that there are certainly people with strength or beauty or power or wealth…

…but how long does it last? A moment? A lifetime? Is it timeless? Was it earned? Was it given? Was it taken?

I received an email from my ex-wife today. She wrote to tell me that our entire marriage was a deception—that I’ve caused her so great a wound that she may never trust a man enough to be able to marry him. She wrote to tell me that the cassettes that I sent her recently were too much a reminder of our marriage, so she threw the entire package in the garbage. She wrote to tell me that, in short, I ruined her life…

Is this the truth?

I think that, perhaps, if she were to truly consider her life before she met me, she would find that there were other individuals in her life who also failed her, or fell short of her expectations, or did things which caused her to feel betrayed. She would find that her trust issues didn’t spring forth at the end of our marriage. Perhaps — just perhaps — she would discover that I have become the safe place for her to project all her anger, sorrow, grief, and even guilt. “Safe” because I am no longer in her life and, therefore, am silenced from pointing out that I, alone, am not the source of all her problems.

But, more than this, I also know that upon careful scrutiny she would find that there was, indeed, genuine affection woven throughout our marriage. That there was compassion. And love. And many moments of joy. That there was a man who wanted to love her as completely as she deserved to be loved… but who was afraid of the truth.

I think I know why I’ve been afraid of the truth. I’ve been afraid of the truth because I have believed that the truth will reveal to others the “unattractive” parts of my persona: undisciplined, needy, unconventional, selfish, controlling… all the things that I dislike about myself. Or perhaps that they will find some other “flaw.” Something that they deem to be undesirable but that I don’t… thereby making me undesirable by default – because I don’t find that part of myself to be an area that requires reform! I’ve been afraid that the people who mean the most to me will find me undesirable, and thus, unlovable.

And so, I’ve worked to polish and to make presentable the parts of myself that I consider attractive—my intellect, my personality, my music—in hopes that I might be lucky enough to have them outweigh or perhaps even completely overshadow (and thereby “eliminate”) the things about myself that I detest. I sometimes find myself working to change the parts of myself that others say need to be changed, even though I never found anything wrong with them. I find myself allowing people—even people I hardly know—to believe certain things about me because it involves less risk of rejection than it would to correct them.

I’ve been afraid of the truth because so many people who claim to know and love God don’t treat others in a manner consistent with the notion that God’s love has been poured out for ALL those who would receive it, regardless of who they are or what they do. They practice this inconsistency because, deep down, they themselves don’t believe it’s true. If people believed with even the smallest part their hearts that their sins were forgiven and that God loved them immeasurably, there would be no need to fear the truth.

I have fallen short of the expectations of people whom I considered dear friends and, because I was afraid of the truth, I have lost their friendship. I have fallen short of the expectations of those with whom I once worshipped and, because I was afraid of the truth, I no longer have their camaraderie. I failed to embrace my homosexuality as God-given and, because I was afraid of the truth, I married my best friend only to later have the marriage called a ruse and counted as worthless.

I suppose the hope is that God’s love is steadfast no matter how we may disappoint God (assuming God can be disappointed). Sometimes, though, it’s hard to find that encouraging when the ones you have grown to love and depend on are gone, and you fear that it’s only a matter of time before you hurt the ones who are left.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand. (John 10:27-29)

The following entry was originally written on July 13, 2006

For the next eight weeks, I’ll be supervising and certifying customer service training for my company (UnitedHealthcare) in Manila, Philippines. Here is blog number one: The Departure.

I took my first airplane ride when I was 28… just before my 29th birthday, actually. Lisa and I were taking a summer trip to visit Lisa’s brother, Paul, and his family in Illinois. I had resigned from my teaching position the previous December in order to attend seminary at Liberty University, and I took a part-time job at Lynchburg City Greyhound to help pay the bills. (The Greyhound stuff comes into play later.)

Lisa had flown several times before on account of her job, so this trip was nothing new to her. I, on the other hand, regarded it with a bit of trepidation. I was taking everything in rather quietly (as is my way), and keeping my concerns and anxiety pretty well in check. (To be perfectly honest, I was as excited as I was nervous.) When our time came to board the plane, however, I was overcome by an unexpected emotion – disappointment. I remarked to Lisa, “It’s a Greyhound with wings.” I suppose I was expecting something with more grandeur (and more space). Up to that point, my only airplane experience was that of movies and television. This little commuter plane offered a meager comparison.

Since then, I have flown a few more times, and have even had the good fortune to fly in the “first class” sections once or twice. But today, I can say that I have REALLY flown! At this very moment I am a “World Business Class” traveler aboard Northwest Airlines, en route to Manila, Philippines. I flew from Greensboro to Detroit on a commuter plane, not unlike those of my past experiences. But as I arrived at the gate for my connection, I looked out the window onto the tarmac to see the Boeing 747 being prepped for my departure and thought to myself, “Now THAT’S an airplane!”

The seats are cushy and large, with buttons for adjusting a host of comfort zones: two lumbar settings that rotate for a lovely massage, foot rest, seat extension, full reclining for sleeping, etc. AND I can stand upright without bumping my head on the storage compartment! I’m in heaven! The attendants are fantastic, and I’m working on my third glass of champagne.

We have an interesting flight path… we’re flying north to Canada, then across Alaska, and will then fly over Russia before landing in Nagoya, Japan, for refueling. The captain says that we’ve got light winds, so we ought to arrive about an hour ahead of schedule. I hope that means that I’ll be able to step off the plane for a bit. I believe it will still be another 4 or 5 hours from Japan to my final destination.

*** At this point in my entry, my laptop battery died. ***

I did get the opportunity to stretch my legs in Nagoya, Japan… and nearly lost my carry-on luggage in the interim! Let me tell you… those cushy seats stop being so cushy somewhere between the 2nd and 13th hours. Even so, the flight wasn’t too bad. It was strange flying westward and into the sun, though. Even after the cabin lights were dimmed and the window shades shut, I was too excited to sleep. I would occasionally submit to the temptation to look out to see where we were and the sunlight would SCREAM through… resulting in quite a few startled, sleepy, and not-too-pleased facial expressions from the other passengers. Anyway, we finally arrived in Nagoya, and folks began to stir and gather their things once the breakfast meal was served.

Now, in the past, when I’ve had a stopover flight where some passengers depart, but others keep their assigned seats to continue on to another city, the passengers who are continuing on will often stay on the plane or just step off for a quick break and then return. So, when we arrived in Japan, I thought I’d go change my shirt, take a restroom break, and see what the airport looked like. I got to the end of the connecting ramp and spied a restroom, so I stepped in. After being taken aback by the porcelain-covered hole in the floor with a grab handle attached to the wall (which served as a toilet-plus-accessory), I began to think that Japan was no place for me! Shaken, but not yet undaunted, I changed my shirt, and began to follow the other passengers. I looked back, trying to find a sign or a “landmark” so I’d know where to reboard. Everything looked the same… So, not confident that I’d be successful, I marched myself against the departing traffic back to the airplane. I would just sacrifice the adventure and wait in my seat. Imagine my surprise when I found an army of cleaning staff tearing the place apart, replacing cushions, cleaning carpets, etc., and one of those gentlemen holding my bags and looking a bit confused. Fortunately, the flight attendant was still there and educated me about the “dog-and-pony” security check that the flights go through, and informed me that I’d have to go off the plane while it was serviced, and then re-board closer to our departure time.

With no real harm done, and with the assurance that if I just followed the signs I’d wind up in the right place, I took my newly educated self through the security check and waited for the boarding call. The rest of the flight was uneventful. A Philipino steel-drum band serenaded the arriving passengers! It was really cool, and I wanted to smile at them, but I was afraid they’d want a tip, so I kept my head down. (Yes… you can say it… whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably applicable here…)

Customs was surprisingly easy, and I found my driver without much ado. Everyone was extremely pleasant. The air was distinctly humid and full of exhaust fumes, but I was happy to finally be at my destination. The ride to the hotel was pretty short… maybe 20 minutes… and before long I was settling into a comfy queen-sized bed. All-in-all, it was a great experience, and I can’t wait to see what the next few weeks will hold.

More later.

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