Is it possible to love God for God's sake, and not merely for the benefits of being faithful, even when there are benefits? What if these benefits are all removed and one is left with no benefit but God alone?
Though I am certain that I have not yet reached this point in my faith journey, I have to believe it is possible. People who are not raised in faith, or who turn away down the road, oftentimes need to sink in the muck and the mire at the rock bottom of their lives to turn to God for what they will get out of the relationship. Even those raised in faith are essentially bribed with the benefits of serving the Lord. A person could live a completely selfless, God-centered life with the self-centered underlying intent of his own eternal reward.
Yet, personal experience leans toward the possibility of loving for loving's sake. I have warred with both of my siblings over the years. At points, neither of them have been people I would have willingly invited to share my life. I have not liked them, harbored anger and animosity toward them, but I have always loved them, for no other reason than they are my siblings. In this way, I believe it is possible to love God simply because He is God. The benefits then become icing on the cake.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Energy Vampires
People are often amazed at how much training massage therapists have in the state of Ohio. Here we are regulated by the state medical board, and I'm told the requirements to sit for the Ohio massage board exam are some of the highest in the country. I have somewhere around 300 clock hours of anatomy and physiology training, over 200 hours of massage theory ~ which includes physical and emotional benefits of massage as well as the techniques ~ and 40 hours of hands-on experience in a student clinic. Several classes were dedicated to introducing students to the many different massage modalities and complimentary treatments, like Reiki, reflexology, infant and prenatal massage, and spa treatments. These were the general requirements when I went to school 10 years ago. I hear it told that now the number of hours required for graduation has increased and courses like pathology and advanced techniques have been added. I feel a little gypped. Pathology would have come in handy.
But, I'm not complaining. The ergonomics training has come in very handy. Learning how to properly position and utilize our bodies for the physical work of massage so as not to burn out was one of the least interesting but most useful classes. I want to say, but can't say for certain, that it was in this class that we discussed "energy vampires". This is exactly what it sounds like ~ people who suck the life out of you. I have been incredibly fortunate that in 9 years of practice I have come across remarkably few of these patients. Some of them are unrealistically demanding in what they expect from their session and the drain comes from trying to accommodatingly fit it all in. A few of them are never going to be happy with your work no matter what you do for them because you are not the person who does it the only way they like it. More of them are just so unhappy with life in general that they spend the entire session voicing their discontent, seeming to attempt to drag you down with them. Sound like anyone in your life?
It never ceases to surprise me where my massage training will end up being useful. When our oldest son was 6 and diagnosed with an endocrine condition, it was my anatomy training that helped me to understand the dr's explanations. In discussing medical symptoms with friends I can sometimes point them in a direction to look for answers, even when I don't have them. And every now and then, I can teach someone a technique to help their or a loved one's pain pattern. But I never would have guessed how much the "energy vampire" discussion would carry over.
Ordinarily, I am a high energy person. I put out quite a bit of energy all on my own without needing anyone around to suck it up. So when I have a drain on my already fast-depleting stores, the toll can be large if I am not vigilant. And when multiple drains are swallowing at once, the toll can be devastating. This is why we are taught how to put up an energy force-field, so to speak ~ a semipermeable wall that lets our energy work but prevents the negative energy from hitting too hard. The double-edge to this sword is the amount of energy required to keep up the barrier. In 9 years, I have become accustomed to handling this shield for the length of a session. However, in life, this shield has the potential to buckle under the weight of several negative energy influences, and eventually implodes on itself as a result of the constant bombardment of energy parasites. Welcome to my current state.
Unfortunately, the only recovery from this exhaustion is rest and reprieve, which are ever elusive in my life. In my work, one positive, or at least neutral, energy session is enough to clear out negativity and allow rest for the next high-energy demand. In my life, however, recovery is not so quick or simple. Depending on the severity of the bombardment, it takes time to push the negativity out of my space, more time to recharge positively, and more time still to rebuild the wall. This is often prolonged by the fact that the energy drains often refuse to be removed entirely during this process. It's like a baby nursing from an exhausted, malnourished mother. The baby will take what it needs without regard to the mother's own physical requirements, and gives the mother's body no time to rest and replenish, to restock the stores to the point of sustaining them both. It is usually here that the mother turns to other means of nourishing her child (formula supplementation) so that her body can heal. When she is well, she can then fully care for herself and her child.
I am now exhausted and malnourished, physically, mentally, and even spiritually. It is here that I need to relinquish the draining relationships to others who can sustain them and allow myself to replenish and rebuild, to heal and become well again.
But, I'm not complaining. The ergonomics training has come in very handy. Learning how to properly position and utilize our bodies for the physical work of massage so as not to burn out was one of the least interesting but most useful classes. I want to say, but can't say for certain, that it was in this class that we discussed "energy vampires". This is exactly what it sounds like ~ people who suck the life out of you. I have been incredibly fortunate that in 9 years of practice I have come across remarkably few of these patients. Some of them are unrealistically demanding in what they expect from their session and the drain comes from trying to accommodatingly fit it all in. A few of them are never going to be happy with your work no matter what you do for them because you are not the person who does it the only way they like it. More of them are just so unhappy with life in general that they spend the entire session voicing their discontent, seeming to attempt to drag you down with them. Sound like anyone in your life?
It never ceases to surprise me where my massage training will end up being useful. When our oldest son was 6 and diagnosed with an endocrine condition, it was my anatomy training that helped me to understand the dr's explanations. In discussing medical symptoms with friends I can sometimes point them in a direction to look for answers, even when I don't have them. And every now and then, I can teach someone a technique to help their or a loved one's pain pattern. But I never would have guessed how much the "energy vampire" discussion would carry over.
Ordinarily, I am a high energy person. I put out quite a bit of energy all on my own without needing anyone around to suck it up. So when I have a drain on my already fast-depleting stores, the toll can be large if I am not vigilant. And when multiple drains are swallowing at once, the toll can be devastating. This is why we are taught how to put up an energy force-field, so to speak ~ a semipermeable wall that lets our energy work but prevents the negative energy from hitting too hard. The double-edge to this sword is the amount of energy required to keep up the barrier. In 9 years, I have become accustomed to handling this shield for the length of a session. However, in life, this shield has the potential to buckle under the weight of several negative energy influences, and eventually implodes on itself as a result of the constant bombardment of energy parasites. Welcome to my current state.
Unfortunately, the only recovery from this exhaustion is rest and reprieve, which are ever elusive in my life. In my work, one positive, or at least neutral, energy session is enough to clear out negativity and allow rest for the next high-energy demand. In my life, however, recovery is not so quick or simple. Depending on the severity of the bombardment, it takes time to push the negativity out of my space, more time to recharge positively, and more time still to rebuild the wall. This is often prolonged by the fact that the energy drains often refuse to be removed entirely during this process. It's like a baby nursing from an exhausted, malnourished mother. The baby will take what it needs without regard to the mother's own physical requirements, and gives the mother's body no time to rest and replenish, to restock the stores to the point of sustaining them both. It is usually here that the mother turns to other means of nourishing her child (formula supplementation) so that her body can heal. When she is well, she can then fully care for herself and her child.
I am now exhausted and malnourished, physically, mentally, and even spiritually. It is here that I need to relinquish the draining relationships to others who can sustain them and allow myself to replenish and rebuild, to heal and become well again.
@#$%ing Exhausted and Can't Sleep
At the start of this post it is 1145pm. I initially went to bed over 2 hours ago. In that time, I have developed migraine-grade pain behind my eyes and I can't seem to shut my mind off. The sob story of a life long insomniac.
I seem to be in the middle of one of my many episodes of "too much life in my life". All of that life is impeding on the rest of my life. Between the physical stress of surgery, the mental stress of returning to school, and the overall stress of the circumstances surrounding my life of late I have come to my brink. I feel like I am loosing my mind. All it will take is one more push to send me sailing over the edge.
I had the fortune of running into a wonderful woman at church this evening who has some small idea of what has been going on. When she asked how I was I answered honestly that I have been better. When she asked what was going on I explained, without going into detail, that I am completely overwhelmed with the current demands on my life. She told me that she has been praying for both of us these past couple of weeks, but she had felt very strongly that I was the one needing prayer. She's so intuitive. And she prayed for me again right there in the ladies' room, reminding me that for every action, especially for God, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Like both of the times I served on Kairos and was plagued by nightmares. Or last October when we served Koinonia and I had some wicked headaches. And last May when I made the incredibly irresponsible decision to stop my my antidepressant cold-turkey and endured all kinds of hoopla.
This time I have neglected myself, neglected my studies, neglected my boys. I haven't allowed my body to heal from the surgery, I haven't studied for the bio test I need to take in the next 24 hours or the algebra quiz in 48. James had a science fair project get neglected until the night before. I've been so focused on teaching the visiting dog the rules of my house that my own dog has been hoovering around me every time I sit down. We've hat a flat tire, a dead battery, a faulty starter and a fender-bender between only 3 vehicles.
At service this evening a lyric in one of the worship songs said "I'm ready for more." Be careful what you wish for.
I'm always fascinated when people call Christianity a crutch. Christianity, true Christianity, has been the longest, hardest road I've ever been on. No wonder people don't want to live it. Life was much less exciting, much more low key, but much less fulfilling, before I embarked on this journey.
And now I'm sucked into a whole new level. The pastor's wife. And I seem to be doing a bang up job, I must say. I'm known for tap dancing in steel-toed boots. Current circumstances are not exempt. It would seem the only thing I do well is piss people off by saying what I have to say in the only way I know how. And now I have the added problem of the propriety expected from this latest role. Sorry. Not getting it here. I've said before that I'm not cut for the pastor's wife cloth. If you're looking for meek, quiet, and submissive look elsewhere. Nothing about me it molded for this station. And I seem to be failing miserably at it.
And as I continue to sit here almost 2 hours after I began, I have gotten no more studying done, I've spent no more time with my boyz or dog, and I still can't sleep.
I seem to be in the middle of one of my many episodes of "too much life in my life". All of that life is impeding on the rest of my life. Between the physical stress of surgery, the mental stress of returning to school, and the overall stress of the circumstances surrounding my life of late I have come to my brink. I feel like I am loosing my mind. All it will take is one more push to send me sailing over the edge.
I had the fortune of running into a wonderful woman at church this evening who has some small idea of what has been going on. When she asked how I was I answered honestly that I have been better. When she asked what was going on I explained, without going into detail, that I am completely overwhelmed with the current demands on my life. She told me that she has been praying for both of us these past couple of weeks, but she had felt very strongly that I was the one needing prayer. She's so intuitive. And she prayed for me again right there in the ladies' room, reminding me that for every action, especially for God, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
Like both of the times I served on Kairos and was plagued by nightmares. Or last October when we served Koinonia and I had some wicked headaches. And last May when I made the incredibly irresponsible decision to stop my my antidepressant cold-turkey and endured all kinds of hoopla.
This time I have neglected myself, neglected my studies, neglected my boys. I haven't allowed my body to heal from the surgery, I haven't studied for the bio test I need to take in the next 24 hours or the algebra quiz in 48. James had a science fair project get neglected until the night before. I've been so focused on teaching the visiting dog the rules of my house that my own dog has been hoovering around me every time I sit down. We've hat a flat tire, a dead battery, a faulty starter and a fender-bender between only 3 vehicles.
At service this evening a lyric in one of the worship songs said "I'm ready for more." Be careful what you wish for.
I'm always fascinated when people call Christianity a crutch. Christianity, true Christianity, has been the longest, hardest road I've ever been on. No wonder people don't want to live it. Life was much less exciting, much more low key, but much less fulfilling, before I embarked on this journey.
And now I'm sucked into a whole new level. The pastor's wife. And I seem to be doing a bang up job, I must say. I'm known for tap dancing in steel-toed boots. Current circumstances are not exempt. It would seem the only thing I do well is piss people off by saying what I have to say in the only way I know how. And now I have the added problem of the propriety expected from this latest role. Sorry. Not getting it here. I've said before that I'm not cut for the pastor's wife cloth. If you're looking for meek, quiet, and submissive look elsewhere. Nothing about me it molded for this station. And I seem to be failing miserably at it.
And as I continue to sit here almost 2 hours after I began, I have gotten no more studying done, I've spent no more time with my boyz or dog, and I still can't sleep.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Adventures in Puppysitting
Anyone one enough to remember the movie "Adventures in Babysitting"? I loved that movie growing up. Though I don't recall ever being envious of Elizabeth Shoo's character or the ordeal she endured, the movie was entertaining.
Not so entertaining is the adventure of the past week of puppy-sitting. While our friend is in rehab, his 15-month-old Australian shepherd, Auzzie, is staying with us. I knew a few details going into the deal, like the dog is in desperate need of energy management and some basic obedience. Then there were the tidbits that I was probably aware of but tucked away because they were not immediately applicable, like there is suspicion that daddy is not the kindest, most loving owner when he is experiencing a drunken rage.
This is not Auzzie's first visit with us while his daddy traveled, though this is certainly the longest period of time. The first stay was only 5 days when Auzzie was about 5 months old and daddy was visiting friends out of state. Auzzie learned very quickly that there are only 2 rooms in our house that are forbidden to puppies, a lesson we are pleased to see that he has remembered every other time he's visited, and that if he wants to be loved on he needs to sit. I have a problem chasing a spinning, prancing, dancing dog just to pet him.
Knowing that Auzzie needed some additional obedience training and that he would be with us for almost a month, I fully anticipated spending some time working with him. I don't have enough available hours in my day to work miracles in 4 weeks, but if nothing else, he will learn what behavior is acceptable at our house.
Rule #1 ~ Never Bite the Hand That Feeds You
This includes the hands of any person who may ever feed you while you are in my house.
It is the job of our youngest son to feed the animals in the morning. Our animals' routine and eating areas have been well established for quite some time. Bandit's bowls are in a corner of our dining room on the upper level of the house, while Auzzie's kennel and food bowls have been set up in the rec room on the lower level. Our plan was to feed Auzzie downstairs, then feed Bandit upstairs while Auzzie was eating and distracted. This worked out for the first few days. Then, one morning was a little out of sorts due to a schedule change, and I was distracted myself when the dogs were being fed. I didn't notice that Bandit had followed Auzzie down the stairs, and Auzzie didn't take too well to Bandit possibly muscling in to the food bowl. There was some dominant vocalizing, our son was startled and let out a yelp, and I hollered for our dog, who came bounding up the steps ~ unfortunately, with Auzzie on his heels. Our son then poured food into Bandit's bowl before I was able to separate the dogs, and the dominant vocalizing resumed. With our son standing much closer, he was more startled and let out a higher pitched yelp, which fed the excitement in the dogs. Dogs were jumping, teeth were exposed, and my son was scratched (not bit) in the fray.
I then morphed into evil-doggie-sitter. The intent was to gain a hold of Auzzie to guide (drag, if necessary) him to his kennel and own food bowl. But he was already too agitated, and when I grabbed his collar, he went bipolar. The dog must be part owl, or in need of an exorcist, because he was able to spin his head all the way around to get his teeth all over my hand. Not at all proud of how I handled the situation, I then laid into the dog. For what felt like several minutes I fought for control of the dog and the situation, becoming more and more upset with every passing second. I ended up lying on top of him so that he was immobile, but with every attempt to get up he wiggled and squirmed and employed his possessed-doggie-head-spin to lay into my hand. It wasn't until my older son brought me a leash that I was able to get off the dog while maintaining tension on his choke with my hands no longer anywhere near his head. Infuriated, I had such a pull on him that his front feet were hovering off of the floor as I dragged him, still spinning and squirming, trying to bite the leash, all the way down the stairs to his kennel.
Hoarse from screaming and shaking with angry adrenaline, I sat at the dining table to resume breakfast ~ but thought I might throw up. When I finally thought to look at my now burning hands, I was surprised to see no blood. Sure they were covered with teeth marks, scratches and a few bruises, but no skin was broken. Either I have very thick skin, or Auzzie wasn't truly trying to inflict injury. Maybe he was only trying to get me to let go of him. As the person in the conflict, I was not about to let this dog think that he was in anyway going to win. Yet, in hindsight, I'm not sure that was his goal in the first place.
Our Bandit doesn't seem to have an aggressive bone in his body. Under circumstances in which he is being poked, pulled, laid on, or hit by the kids that are around, Bandit only tries to escape the situation and retreat to his safe haven. I have never seen him nip at or in any other way make an aggressive move toward a person. Perhaps that was Auzzie's goal. Maybe Auzzie was only trying to "encourage" me to let go of his collar so that he could escape.
Unfortunately, even if this were the case, this behavior cannot happen in our house. Auzzie is the only pet of a person who is himself not the most disciplined and, therefore, does not consistently discipline his pet. We have seen first-handle how Auzzie's daddy defers to the dog's boisterous energy and disobedience. We, on the other hand, have our own dog, 4 cats, and 2 kids. This kind of unchecked aggression cannot be allowed for the sake and safety of the other inhabitants of the house.
We were incredibly spoiled when we got Bandit. He was 2 years old, housebroken, and obedience trained when he came to us. He has a sweet temperament to match his sweet face, and the fact that he is not a barker is icing on the cake. With this in mind, I had no idea how to proceed with this situation. I have never dealt with this behavior in a dog before and needed some advice, so I spent most of my morning talking to friends who have trained dogs from puppies.
To begin with, Auzzie was confined to his kennel unless he was outside taking care of business. Because I felt the need to be able to control him without getting close to him, he was only allowed out of the kennel if he was on the leash. Bandit and the cats were not at all upset by this arrangement, but it all but broke my heart. Why have a dog if the dog has to be constantly confined? Dogs are supposed to be part of the family, not caged like hamsters. But, by the same token, he couldn't handle the freedom of the house when competing with the other animals.
After a few days, I let Auzzie roam the house in the mornings before anyone else got out of bed, but he went back to the kennel as soon as the house become more active. Our younger son plays with him after school to run out some of his energy, then he goes back to the kennel. Today was the "all day" trial run, and I am happy to report that Auzzie behaved quite well. We have discovered that the excitement of everyone being home is still a little too much for him, so we will probably kennel him for the day in the late afternoon for the rest of this week.
I am encouraged by the progress being made. Auzzie is doing much better when commanded to go to his kennel, though is by no means yet compliant. He waits patiently in the kennel while I attach the leash, does his little dance when he is finally allowed out, then heads to the front door to be let out. He waits again for the leash when we comes back in, and then gives me a pleading look while waiting to see if he will be allowed upstairs to play or back downstairs to the kennel. With all the effort I am putting into teaching this dog the rules of my house, I almost don't want to give him back. ALMOST.
Not so entertaining is the adventure of the past week of puppy-sitting. While our friend is in rehab, his 15-month-old Australian shepherd, Auzzie, is staying with us. I knew a few details going into the deal, like the dog is in desperate need of energy management and some basic obedience. Then there were the tidbits that I was probably aware of but tucked away because they were not immediately applicable, like there is suspicion that daddy is not the kindest, most loving owner when he is experiencing a drunken rage.
This is not Auzzie's first visit with us while his daddy traveled, though this is certainly the longest period of time. The first stay was only 5 days when Auzzie was about 5 months old and daddy was visiting friends out of state. Auzzie learned very quickly that there are only 2 rooms in our house that are forbidden to puppies, a lesson we are pleased to see that he has remembered every other time he's visited, and that if he wants to be loved on he needs to sit. I have a problem chasing a spinning, prancing, dancing dog just to pet him.
Knowing that Auzzie needed some additional obedience training and that he would be with us for almost a month, I fully anticipated spending some time working with him. I don't have enough available hours in my day to work miracles in 4 weeks, but if nothing else, he will learn what behavior is acceptable at our house.
Rule #1 ~ Never Bite the Hand That Feeds You
This includes the hands of any person who may ever feed you while you are in my house.
It is the job of our youngest son to feed the animals in the morning. Our animals' routine and eating areas have been well established for quite some time. Bandit's bowls are in a corner of our dining room on the upper level of the house, while Auzzie's kennel and food bowls have been set up in the rec room on the lower level. Our plan was to feed Auzzie downstairs, then feed Bandit upstairs while Auzzie was eating and distracted. This worked out for the first few days. Then, one morning was a little out of sorts due to a schedule change, and I was distracted myself when the dogs were being fed. I didn't notice that Bandit had followed Auzzie down the stairs, and Auzzie didn't take too well to Bandit possibly muscling in to the food bowl. There was some dominant vocalizing, our son was startled and let out a yelp, and I hollered for our dog, who came bounding up the steps ~ unfortunately, with Auzzie on his heels. Our son then poured food into Bandit's bowl before I was able to separate the dogs, and the dominant vocalizing resumed. With our son standing much closer, he was more startled and let out a higher pitched yelp, which fed the excitement in the dogs. Dogs were jumping, teeth were exposed, and my son was scratched (not bit) in the fray.
I then morphed into evil-doggie-sitter. The intent was to gain a hold of Auzzie to guide (drag, if necessary) him to his kennel and own food bowl. But he was already too agitated, and when I grabbed his collar, he went bipolar. The dog must be part owl, or in need of an exorcist, because he was able to spin his head all the way around to get his teeth all over my hand. Not at all proud of how I handled the situation, I then laid into the dog. For what felt like several minutes I fought for control of the dog and the situation, becoming more and more upset with every passing second. I ended up lying on top of him so that he was immobile, but with every attempt to get up he wiggled and squirmed and employed his possessed-doggie-head-spin to lay into my hand. It wasn't until my older son brought me a leash that I was able to get off the dog while maintaining tension on his choke with my hands no longer anywhere near his head. Infuriated, I had such a pull on him that his front feet were hovering off of the floor as I dragged him, still spinning and squirming, trying to bite the leash, all the way down the stairs to his kennel.
Hoarse from screaming and shaking with angry adrenaline, I sat at the dining table to resume breakfast ~ but thought I might throw up. When I finally thought to look at my now burning hands, I was surprised to see no blood. Sure they were covered with teeth marks, scratches and a few bruises, but no skin was broken. Either I have very thick skin, or Auzzie wasn't truly trying to inflict injury. Maybe he was only trying to get me to let go of him. As the person in the conflict, I was not about to let this dog think that he was in anyway going to win. Yet, in hindsight, I'm not sure that was his goal in the first place.
Our Bandit doesn't seem to have an aggressive bone in his body. Under circumstances in which he is being poked, pulled, laid on, or hit by the kids that are around, Bandit only tries to escape the situation and retreat to his safe haven. I have never seen him nip at or in any other way make an aggressive move toward a person. Perhaps that was Auzzie's goal. Maybe Auzzie was only trying to "encourage" me to let go of his collar so that he could escape.
Unfortunately, even if this were the case, this behavior cannot happen in our house. Auzzie is the only pet of a person who is himself not the most disciplined and, therefore, does not consistently discipline his pet. We have seen first-handle how Auzzie's daddy defers to the dog's boisterous energy and disobedience. We, on the other hand, have our own dog, 4 cats, and 2 kids. This kind of unchecked aggression cannot be allowed for the sake and safety of the other inhabitants of the house.
We were incredibly spoiled when we got Bandit. He was 2 years old, housebroken, and obedience trained when he came to us. He has a sweet temperament to match his sweet face, and the fact that he is not a barker is icing on the cake. With this in mind, I had no idea how to proceed with this situation. I have never dealt with this behavior in a dog before and needed some advice, so I spent most of my morning talking to friends who have trained dogs from puppies.
To begin with, Auzzie was confined to his kennel unless he was outside taking care of business. Because I felt the need to be able to control him without getting close to him, he was only allowed out of the kennel if he was on the leash. Bandit and the cats were not at all upset by this arrangement, but it all but broke my heart. Why have a dog if the dog has to be constantly confined? Dogs are supposed to be part of the family, not caged like hamsters. But, by the same token, he couldn't handle the freedom of the house when competing with the other animals.
After a few days, I let Auzzie roam the house in the mornings before anyone else got out of bed, but he went back to the kennel as soon as the house become more active. Our younger son plays with him after school to run out some of his energy, then he goes back to the kennel. Today was the "all day" trial run, and I am happy to report that Auzzie behaved quite well. We have discovered that the excitement of everyone being home is still a little too much for him, so we will probably kennel him for the day in the late afternoon for the rest of this week.
I am encouraged by the progress being made. Auzzie is doing much better when commanded to go to his kennel, though is by no means yet compliant. He waits patiently in the kennel while I attach the leash, does his little dance when he is finally allowed out, then heads to the front door to be let out. He waits again for the leash when we comes back in, and then gives me a pleading look while waiting to see if he will be allowed upstairs to play or back downstairs to the kennel. With all the effort I am putting into teaching this dog the rules of my house, I almost don't want to give him back. ALMOST.
Friday, February 3, 2012
A Study in Job ~ Preface
Not intending to be boastful, I will say that I am on my 6th read through of the Bible. I first read it through as a teenager in Mormon seminary where we used exclusively the old King James Version. That was a rough translation for a teen, and I couldn't say how much of it I truly took in. Since then, I have read the NIV, NLT, and the Message translations. Ordinarily, I begin my reading in the gospels, but this year's choice is TNIV in chronological order, and I am already thinking that next year I want to read the New King James Version without all of the thees and thous and begots.
There are certain books of the Bible that I love to read and savor ever word ~ Proverbs, Genesis, the gospels, James. And there are others that I now skim ~ Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Then there are the books that I have tried so hard but just don't get ~ Psalms, Ecclesiasties, the prophets. I think part of the problem is lack of point of reference, which is why I have chosen the chronological Books of the Bible for this year's read. Maybe with the writings of the prophets tucked into the historical recounts of the events I can glean why the prophecy was significant at the time instead of only in retrospect.
The book of Job is particularly difficult for me. Years ago, when my life was seemingly falling apart and I twistedly believed that God was behind it all, a coworker suggested that I remember and be encouraged by the life and trials of Job. I remembered, but was sinking too deeply into an unhealthy mental state to be encouraged. If anything, in my warped way of thinking, remembering only justified my skewed view that God was entertained by the suffering of His people.
As my mental health has recovered, I have rededicated my life to Christ, and sincerely sought to understand His word, Job has continued to be an boulder on my spiritual journey. The initial events leading up to Job's lament are not difficult to understand. He was a righteous man and thus blessed in his life. In spite of living only to please God, God allowed Job to loose everything but his life ~ and bitchy, accusatory wife, apparently. But I digress. It is when Job's "friends" arrive to offer their words of "comfort" that the author looses me. I have ADHD, so when monologs are 2, 3, 4 chapters long not only to I loose the underlying point of the speech, but I can't even remember who's speaking. Add to that the fact that the original book was written poetically and that the flow and word pictures that would have encouraged one to relate and remember have been lost in our crude translation from Hebrew into English.
As much as I'm not a fan of Job, it has been in my heart to more fully understand this book. Maybe it has been recent events that have created a longing in me to understand why God would allow us to suffer so much. Maybe it's because it frustrates me to not understand. Whatever the reason, I have made a commitment to study the book of Job. Due to life circumstances, this study will NOT happen within the 12 weeks for which it is designed. It will happen as I can devote the energy to concentrated study. But part of this study involves reflection questions asking one to consider their spiritual walk thus far. I type much faster than I write, and I will more than likely answer some of those questions here. I only hope I sound less whiny than Job.
There are certain books of the Bible that I love to read and savor ever word ~ Proverbs, Genesis, the gospels, James. And there are others that I now skim ~ Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Then there are the books that I have tried so hard but just don't get ~ Psalms, Ecclesiasties, the prophets. I think part of the problem is lack of point of reference, which is why I have chosen the chronological Books of the Bible for this year's read. Maybe with the writings of the prophets tucked into the historical recounts of the events I can glean why the prophecy was significant at the time instead of only in retrospect.
The book of Job is particularly difficult for me. Years ago, when my life was seemingly falling apart and I twistedly believed that God was behind it all, a coworker suggested that I remember and be encouraged by the life and trials of Job. I remembered, but was sinking too deeply into an unhealthy mental state to be encouraged. If anything, in my warped way of thinking, remembering only justified my skewed view that God was entertained by the suffering of His people.
As my mental health has recovered, I have rededicated my life to Christ, and sincerely sought to understand His word, Job has continued to be an boulder on my spiritual journey. The initial events leading up to Job's lament are not difficult to understand. He was a righteous man and thus blessed in his life. In spite of living only to please God, God allowed Job to loose everything but his life ~ and bitchy, accusatory wife, apparently. But I digress. It is when Job's "friends" arrive to offer their words of "comfort" that the author looses me. I have ADHD, so when monologs are 2, 3, 4 chapters long not only to I loose the underlying point of the speech, but I can't even remember who's speaking. Add to that the fact that the original book was written poetically and that the flow and word pictures that would have encouraged one to relate and remember have been lost in our crude translation from Hebrew into English.
As much as I'm not a fan of Job, it has been in my heart to more fully understand this book. Maybe it has been recent events that have created a longing in me to understand why God would allow us to suffer so much. Maybe it's because it frustrates me to not understand. Whatever the reason, I have made a commitment to study the book of Job. Due to life circumstances, this study will NOT happen within the 12 weeks for which it is designed. It will happen as I can devote the energy to concentrated study. But part of this study involves reflection questions asking one to consider their spiritual walk thus far. I type much faster than I write, and I will more than likely answer some of those questions here. I only hope I sound less whiny than Job.
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