Death and Life

My friend’s grandmother just died.  In the last few days, I’ve been remembering how I grieved when my grandfather died back when I was in college.

We are marked by the passing of those we love.

Death and grief — painful and necessary as they are — can be catalysts for new awareness, growth, and even hope for the future.

All day I’ve had this verse in my head.

For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. – 2 Cor 5:4

Selah, as it says in the Psalms.  Pause, and quietly think about that.

10 Things Hay Fever Teaches Us

Nothing puts you in touch with your body as much as when your body is not working well.  Sickness and infirmity remind us of our frailty, our mortality, our physicality.

Yesterday, I had an allergy attack, my first one in five years.  It’s quite shocking how quickly I had forgotten the icky-ness of allergies and gotten used to behaving “normally” when outside.

Here are 10 things having allergies has taught me:

1. Everything I do has a consequence. Whether I choose to sleep with the window open, ride my bike under blooming trees, or stretch out in the grass for a nap — I will pay for it later.
2. Breathing is precious, vital, and should not be taken for granted.  The inability to breathe out of my mouth and my nose makes me ever aware of this most basic of involuntary activities my body regulates without my conscious choice.
3. Life does not stop simply because I am unprepared. (Read: I cannot go anywhere without Kleenex.)
4. Quick fixes are not long-term solutions.
5. Sometimes there is nothing you can do to fix a problem or change a circumstance.
6. I am capable of making choices that affect my body’s well-being. It’s up to me whether those are positive or negative effects.
7. My body deserves my attention and care, even when it is inconvenient.
8. All things in moderation. Sometimes when we try too hard to fix a problem, we overcompensate and make everything worse.
9. Being aware of my own infirmity creates the opportunity for more compassion towards others who struggle with chronic physical ailments.
10. How I react to my situation is a choice.  Having that choice is an opportunity for growth. Having the opportunity for growth is a gift.

How has physical infirmity influenced your body theology?

The Spiritual Practice of Touch

Yesterday my husband and I splurged on a couple of 60-minute massages at a  Chinese foot clinic that just opened up in our town. We pointed out the type of massage we wanted, were led to two red chair/beds in the middle of the room, and settled in for some long-anticipated relaxation.

Since we both have trouble with our backs, we often bribe each other for massages at home, but nothing beats a well-trained, strong-fingered Chinese foot massage.  The last time we had massages, we were still dating, so we were looking forward to the treat we had saved up for.

As I lay under the soft red towel while a quiet Chinese woman worked out my knots with her strong, gentle hands, I thought about my journey with touch over the past few years. I’ve learned to allow myself to be touched in a safe, healthy way. I’ve learned to accept hugs, and then to give them.  I’ve learned to accept romantic touch.  I have always been the one giving massages, but in the last few years I’ve learned to receive them as well–first, free ones from trusted friends, and then paid ones from trained professionals.

All along, God has been teaching me about the healing and restorative power of touch.  We lay hands on one another when we pray. We hold our loved ones close.  We comfort and celebrate each other with safe, healthy touch.

But for a long time I believed the lie that no touch was safe. I felt threatened anytime my 3-feet-of-personal-space was violated by anyone other than a family member.

We westerners are so much more physically isolated from one another.  Single adults are especially lacking in safe, healthy (non-sexual) physical touch. 

Through some beautiful moments, and some long-suffering friends, I have slowly begun to teach my body to receive touch in a positive way.

Yesterday, amidst the cheesy violin solos of My Heart Will Go On, Moon River, and Edelweiss, I closed my eyes, allowed my body to relax under the towel, and told myself to receive this nice woman’s touch in the way it was meant–to provide healing.

Each time I exhaled, I breathed out distrust, anxiety, and infirmity.  Each time I inhaled, I breathed in the safety and healing of the Holy Spirit.  Getting a massage became an exercise in believing the truth about touch and allowing the Spirit of God to work within me for my spiritual and physical benefit.

By the end of the hour, I was so relaxed I almost fell asleep.

As we paid our fee, tipped our massage therapists, and went off to get some dinner, I was reminded of my plan long ago to open a healing center one day that would include massage therapy along with soaking prayer, inner healing prayer, practical and biblical teaching, and music, dance, and other artistic expressions of worship.  Maybe there would even be yoga or Pilates classes available.

What would it look like for a  24-hour House of Prayer to include massage therapy and body movement classes along with healing, teaching, and worship with music?

What better way of incorporating body theology into spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical healing and growth?  What better expression of the holistic nature of body theology?

We are physical beings, and we relate best when our physicality is incorporated into our experience–of ourselves, of each other, and of God.

Next time you get a massage, or give someone a hug, or accept a high-five or fist-bump, recognize the moment as an opportunity to experience and express your body theology in action.

Give and receive touch as an expression of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on our lives.   That’s what we were made for.

Forward Friday: Knowing Your Name

Hi, lovely readers! Thanks for all your encouragement and support over the past couple of weeks as I’ve wrestled with fear and finding my voice.

Now, here’s a little exercise to try to discover the new name God has given you.

1) Sit in a comfortable position in a quiet place.

2) Light a candle (or use a painting or some other focal point to help draw your attention away from distractions).

3) Read Genesis 32:22-32 aloud, slowly.

4) In silence, ask God to reveal to you who you have been created to be.  Ask God to bless you as Jacob once did.  Expect an answer.

5) Wait. Listen.

6) If you find yourself too easily distracted, repeat #3-5 once or twice more.

7) Come back and share your experience in the comment box below.

On Being Brave

²² That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two female servants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. ²³ After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. ²⁴ So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. ²⁵ When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. ²⁶ Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.” But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” ²⁷ The man asked him, “What is your name?” “Jacob,” he answered. ²⁸ Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel,^[a] because you have struggled with God and with human beings and have overcome.” ²⁹ Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.” But he replied, “Why do you ask my name?” Then he blessed him there. ³⁰ So Jacob called the place Peniel,^[b] saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.” ³¹ The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel,^[c] and he was limping because of his hip. ³² Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the tendon attached to the socket of the hip, because the socket of Jacob’s hip was touched near the tendon.  – Genesis 32:22-32

I woke up thinking about this passage on Saturday.  Since I started this blog, I have occasionally been awakened before my alarm already thinking of what to write about.  But this time I didn’t really understand what this passage had to do with body theology, or with me, for that matter.

I had a marathon weekend working in Pasadena and didn’t get to put much thought into it, but last night on the long drive home, I put a good portion of my attention toward identifying the purpose God had for leading me to this well-known moment in biblical history when Jacob wrestles with God.

And I noticed three things.

1) God shows up physically.

God meets Jacob at a critical moment in his life–just after he has learned what it’s like to be deceived by Laban’s manipulation and just before he is going to be reconciled to the brother he once deceived.

Let me clarify. God meets Jacob physically, and Jacob is left with a physical injury as a result of his night-long struggle.

But here’s the thing I love about this moment: God did not overpower Jacob.  In another translation it says that the man “was not able” against Jacob and that Jacob struggled with God and with people and “was able.”

God met Jacob exactly where he was, down to the exact strength of his muscles.

2) Jacob has the audacity to demand a blessing–and he receives it! 

As much as the health-wealth gospel is criticized, here’s a mark in its favor.  If Jacob had not asked for the blessing, he would have walked away from his encounter with God with only the injured hip.  Jacob may limp away from his encounter with God, but he also gains a new name.

3) Jacob is still referred to as “Jacob” after this moment when he is given the new name “Israel.” 

I find this truly interesting since all the other times people are given new names (Abram/Abraham, Saul/Paul), they are immediately and forever changed.  Yet Jacob is still sometimes “the deceiver” even after he becomes “one who struggles with God.”  That tells me sometimes receiving a blessing or realizing a change in character are not lightning-bolt moments but ongoing journeys toward something new and better.

Being Much-Afraid

One of my favorite books when I was younger was Hinds’ Feet on High Places. If you haven’t read it, you should!  It’s an allegory of the Christian life, following Much-Afraid’s journey to meet the Good Shepherd on the Mountain of Spices.  Her companions are Sorrow and Suffering, and they help her navigate the difficult path through the mountains on her crippled feet.  At the end, Much-Afraid reaches her destination, is restored to full health in her body, and receives a new name.  Her companions are also transformed.

So I asked God on my drive home late last night what it was about this passage in Genesis that was so all-fire important that I had to wake up early on an already full weekend just to hear about it.

And I realized something.

I am Much-Afraid. 

Okay, maybe that’s not news.  I’ve identified myself with that allegory many times in my spiritual journey.  But this time I realized something else.

I’ve been given a new name. But like Jacob, I’m still sometimes Much-Afraid.  I’m still learning to live into my new name more fully and more often.

Then I read about how Alise sometimes feels like she doesn’t stack up against other bloggers and how Sarah is sometimes afraid of her name and her voice, and I suddenly felt known and understood and not alone anymore.  These bloggers have such unique and vital voices (and such well-established web presences), and they still sometimes feel the same way I feel.

Discounted.

Afraid.

I opened up my bedside table drawer and pulled out a gift a friend gave me, a little paperweight in the shape of a heart with “Strength” carved into the rock.

I once heard the word courage described as “strength of heart” and remembered a story I wrote in seminary about a boy named Courage who goes on a journey to recover his name after a spell of lies changed it to Fear.  If you read Tuesday’s post, you’ll understand.

Being Strength-of-Heart

And that is how I came to understand why God felt it necessary to wake me up so early on Saturday morning and remind me of a passage I haven’t read in ages about something that doesn’t even seem that related to body theology and yet MUST be the inspiration for this week’s blog posts.

I’ve been given a new name.

I am not Much-Afraid anymore.

I am Strength-of-Heart.

But I have been living like I’m still Much-Afraid for a long time.

I have strength of heart, as much strength as Jacob had that night he wrestled with God.  When I encounter God, God shows up with just exactly that amount of strength to push back with.  When morning comes, I am wounded and limping, but I am also blessed and so much closer to being that courageous woman God has created me to be.

God is restoring my name to me. I am becoming Strength-of-Heart again, the Strength-of-Heart I was created to be, the Strength-of-Heart who got buried under all the fear and lies of the world.

I am emerging. I am being made new.

I am finding my voice.

I am going to be brave.

20 Reasons I’m Afraid to Speak

1. I am afraid of being wrong.
2. I am afraid of drawing attention.
3. I am afraid of not being prepared.
4. I am afraid of losing friends.
5. I am afraid of losing potential friends.
6. I am afraid of being attacked.
7. I am afraid of being misunderstood.
8. I am afraid of being disagreed with.
9. I am afraid of making the situation worse.
10. I am afraid of harming someone else’s walk with God.
11. I am afraid of failing.
12. I am afraid of succeeding and not knowing what to do next.
13. I am afraid of having nothing worth saying.
14. I am afraid of being considered unworthy of saying it.
15. I am afraid of being known.
16. I am afraid of being known and then rejected.
17. I am afraid of gaining nothing.
18. I am afraid of losing what I have.
19. I am afraid of living up to my potential.
20. I am afraid of discovering my potential isn’t enough.

Courage and the Book of Truth: A Fairytale

Once upon a time there lived a young prince named Courage who lived in a palace and dreamed of adventure.

The King of Barrington was a good king, so there was peace in the land.  When Courage was very small, he would play with his friend Skeeter who had very large ears and lived at the far end of the palace grounds.  The boys would play at war, creating epic battles against imaginary enemies and coming home as heroes.

As the boys began to grow up, the King hired Thomas the Good Wizard to tutor Courage.  Thomas the Good Wizard taught Courage many valuable things, and when he had learned all he could be taught, Thomas decided to go back to his family at the far end of Barrington.

Before Thomas left, he gave Courage a special gift: the Book of TRUTH.

Now Courage was a young man who was not interested in old books that smelled like mold and had no pictures in them of great battles.  So Courage put the Book under his bed and forgot it.

One day an Evil Magician came into Barrington on a huge dragon that breathed fire on the villages and burned up the crops.  The King rode out to meet him on a strong white stallion, and the two collided in a wild struggle.

It looked like the King would win until with a mighty blow to the temple, the King fell to the ground. Courage, who had been watching from a tree, scrambled down to save his father, but Skeeter held him back, and the two disappeared into the forest to hide.

The Evil Magician locked up the king and all his family in the highest tower, but he couldn’t find Courage.  So the Evil Magician put a spell over all the land made of LIES.

The tower became a dungeon, the Evil Magician became the king, and Courage became Fear.

Fear decided to go to Thomas the Good Wizard for help, but now he was afraid to go by himself.  So Skeeter went with Fear to the farthest end of the kingdom to find Thomas.

While they were traveling, the Evil Magician put another spell over the kingdom so that everyone who dared to teach TRUTH against his LIES would mysteriously die.  When Fear and Skeeter arrived at the house, Thomas was dead.

But there was hope!

Skeeter, who had supersonic hearing because of his very large ears, overheard Thomas’ wife whispering about a Book of TRUTH that Thomas used to have that could reverse the spells and bring him back to life…if only she could find it.  Then Fear remembered the gift Thomas had given him long ago, so the two borrowed horses from Thomas’ wife and rode for two days to get back to the palace.

Fear climbed up the wall of the castle, snuck into his bedroom window, and found the old Book under his bed.  He opened the Book, blew off the dust, learned the secrets about the TRUTH and set the land free from the Evil Magician’s LIES.

The newly freed King sent the Evil Magician out of his kingdom, never to return, Thomas came back to life again, and Fear was once again restored to his true identity as Courage, a true hero—with help from Skeeter’s very large ears.

The end.