Category: personal comments

Mannequin Logic

For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.

1 Corinthians 15:22

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 

Ephesians 2:4-5

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins.

Colossians 2:13

Mannequins have always have had a odd effect on me– somewhat similar to clowns (which really make me uneasy.)  I also had a small artist’s mannequin–it was flexible and the theory was you could pose it.  And of course there is the story of Pinocchio, a puppet who became a boy (I wonder if he regarded “toothpicks” as his cousins? LOL)

The Bible uses this imagery to explain exactly what happens when we first believe.  His Spirit works on us, or in us, to bring us back to life.  Talking with any sincere Christian and they’ll describe their repentance/conversion using a remarkable metaphor–resurrection of the dead!  Now that is dramatic.

We the “cast-off” mannequins have suddenly come to life.  We understand things from a revolutionary new way.  Jesus has worked and crafted his new children and brought them to life.  The Holy Spirit has done something so radical that it defies any explanation except through the Word.

Life is so very different now.  I see it through new eyes.  I am no longer seeking to be energized by drugs, alcohol or a selfish lifestyle.  The emptiness of that past life no longer disturbs me.

I still have problems.  There are difficult issues of depression and BP that challenge me.  Somedays I can’t get out of bed and life is hopeless.  Meds help me work through this black mood.  I pray and worship and I am lifted up from my dark pit.  Friends who understand are a blessing.

But this wonderfully radical truth of coming to life is by far-and-away the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me.  I was like that mannequin in the mall, vacant and empty.  Not alive.  But Jesus touched me, and now I live.

“It stands to reason, doesn’t it, that if the alive-and-present God who raised Jesus from the dead moves into your life, he’ll do the same thing in you that he did in Jesus, bringing you alive to himself? When God lives and breathes in you (and he does, as surely as he did in Jesus), you are delivered from that dead life. With his Spirit living in you, your body will be as alive as Christ’s!”

Romans 8:11-12, The Message

Mannequin logic can only be understood when the Holy Spirit moves in!

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In Pursuit of Happyness

By CARONAE HOWELL, From the New York Times, dated July 20, 2009

flight1
To fly away

I’m the kind of woman who spends entire days thinking of nothing but birds: woodcocks, goldfinches, kingfishers. I look for loons everywhere I go. Sometimes I find herons in Central Park and they are mysteries. There is one thing in this world that I envy: the hollowness of bird bones. In the three milliseconds of liftoff, a bird separates itself from its problems. The sky is the freest part of the world.

I have always been depressed, and I have always wanted to fly — not to emulate Superman or to travel faster. I want to fly because of the elation. In my dreams I am a butterfly or a fairy or a honeybee. Depression, for me, is when you want to be a bird, but can’t.

There is a specific moment in which I became a woman. It was February — always the worst month with its aching light and its slip-induced bruises. I had been trying to fall asleep for at least four hours. At 3 a.m., I found myself sobbing and shaking and confused, sitting on my metal dorm bed in the bird-with-a-­broken-wing position. I dug my fingernails into my forearms, leaving shell-shaped trenches behind. I have the kind of skin that refuses to heal, just stays eternally raw and mottled. It was five weeks into my fourth semester.

In late January, a freshman hanged himself in my old dorm. I found myself asking, really, how hard is it to suddenly find yourself perched on a sink, rope around your beautiful neck, ready to fly? How hard? My dad drove through four states to pick me up the next week. On the way home I had tea and ice cream. He asked me if I remembered the time he took too many of his antidepressants. I did not. Nor did I remember my uncle’s suicide (gun to the cerebrum) or my sister’s delicately sliced arms and hips. These were things I had only been told. The space between my skull and my irises hurts sometimes — hurts like the shatter of a tiny bird that has fallen midflight.

And so it was that sour February night that I took the delicate step into the adult world: realizing that I was too depressed to stay at college was realizing I had not only lost my flock; I had fallen from the air entirely. Michigan has many birds. My favorite might be the wood duck, with its banded neck and flat little wings. When I watch birds take off, I hold my breath. They always make it to the sky.

Every Monday morning at 9 I see my therapist, mug of green tea and honey close at hand. I take new pills now. I have a routine: oatmeal in the morning, Wednesday nights with my father. I tell my therapist about Toni Morrison’s “Song of Solomon.” Who isn’t searching for their people? I arrange my thoughts. (No, I have never been in love and I am, in fact, afraid of men; I panic in Times Square; I grow attached to almost everyone I meet.) I have feathers and questions.

I moved to New York City for college in 2007. School did not grow me into an adult, nor did voting for the first time or doing my own banking. These things were not confrontations. How did I arrive at the place where I could look at my disease and say, “Yes, you are here, but I will not let you take the joy out of looking for birds”? I like to think it was New York, or my newfound discipline, but it was a more internal revolution. I acknowledged my traumas: I was not crazy, just damaged. I was molting. Columbia gave me many new things: a copy of the “Iliad” with a note saying the first six books should be read before orientation, a job in the oral history office, a sense of time management.

But without my sanity — without joy — these things had little value. I knew nothing until I knew I was hardly living. Hobbes and Locke and all the philosophers in the world could not matter when each day was insurmountable and burning. In my year and a half at Columbia, I began to learn how to love myself. I tell my therapist about my earliest memories and the bizarre geography of my family. I’m anxious and I have no self-esteem. But I am mending. Fifteen lost credits is a small price to pay for happiness. Perhaps I am learning how to fly. My bones may not be hollow, and joy will never come easily, but the beauty is in the struggle. The birds are everywhere.

Caronae Howell, Columbia, class of 2011, history major

Chutzpah!

chutz·pah

  http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf

A word from the Hebrew

1. unmitigated effrontery or impudence; gall. 2. audacity; nerve.  3. shameless audacity; impudence.

****

The essence of “chutzpah” has been described as the man who murders his parents, and then throws himself on the court because he is now an orphan. (At least that is what I have heard.) Chutzpah is most often found when things seem unattainable. It is an intelligent response to things that are ugly and desperate, and yet somehow making them available. And it is typically and completely “out-of-hand.” It seems to step-up when things are bleak, and you make certain things negotiable again.

It’s like healing and deliverance are stored on the top-shelf.  Chutzpah goes and comes back with a ladder.  It simply will not be dissuaded or denied.

“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

Hebrews 4:16, ESV

There is the special need for a definite form of chutzpah here. We “get close.” And then we push closer. And we are totally beyond our place and status. But all we can see, is the “mercy and grace.” So because we see such wonders, we audaciously step into His presence.

“So, friends, we can now—without hesitation—walk right up to God, into “the Holy Place.” Jesus has cleared the way by the blood of his sacrifice, acting as our priest before God. The “curtain” into God’s presence is his body. So let’s do it—full of belief, confident that we’re presentable inside and out. Let’s keep a firm grip on the promises that keep us going. He always keeps his word.”

Heb. 10:19-21, MSG

I must admit, my preference is this– I just don’t like people with chutzpah. They seem arrogant, and I distrust arrogance. I don’t like it, and it is hard for me to see it as a virtue. But as I read the Word, I discover that the people of true faith seem very conceited. They swagger in, and will receive all (and more) of what they request (or demand.)

All of there behavior seems smug and superior to a sceptical heart. And yet I must reflect on all those in the Word who were outrageous, who stepped totally out-of-line. Jacob who wrestled. Moses who negotiated. Esther who persuaded. The adulterous woman who anointed. The leper who begged. There are quite a few others, we can find. They all were “cheeky” and dauntless.

What role does “chutzpah” have in our personal walk? Should we step out into this faith that is inherently susceptible to our incredible demands?  It is outrageous that we should demand an entrance into the presence of the Most High. And then when we finally stand in this place, we insist on complete and total forgiveness. Now that, dear friends, is a chutzpah kind of  arrogance!

If we should be “chutzpah-believers” we need to know the promises in the Bible. That alone will be the only place we can stand. Our faith must exclusively be based on what God has proclaimed in the Word. To come forward without a promise is very foolish.

In the Gospels we will find a blind man whose name was Bartimaeus. He steps up and clearly insists on a healing. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.” Jesus turns at this act of chutzpah. “What would you have Me do for you?” There is a profound audaciousness in his reply. “Heal me!”

As believers, sometimes we simply take the “humble route.” But if you want God, then you must step up, be bold and take what you need from Him. It seems that our Father insists we enter His presence quite “boldly.”

Over and over, we read of Bible characters who pronounced that boldness was an incredible virtue. But faith at its essence simply will not conform to any other definition. Faith insists that we be audacious and bold, way beyond any logic or reasoning. They might think we are quite outrageous, but we know that we are only being faithful.

“Let There Be Zoloft!”

A “tongue in cheek” evaluation of Zoloft, my personal fav as I work through my own depression.

 

“Seeking to broaden the customer base of the popular drug, Pfizer announced the launch of a $40 million “Zoloft For Everything” advertising campaign Monday.  “Zoloft is most commonly prescribed for the treatment of depression and anxiety disorders, but it would be ridiculous to limit such a multi-functional drug to these few uses,” Pfizer spokesman Jon Pugh said. “We feel doctors need to stop asking their patients if anything is wrong and start asking if anything could be more right.”

Continued Pugh: “How many millions of people out there are suffering under the strain of a deadline at work or pre-date jitters, but don’t realize there’s a drug that could provide relief? Zoloft isn’t just for severe anxiety or depression. Got the Monday blues? Kids driving you nuts? Let Zoloft help. Zoloft.” Zoloft (sertraline hydrochloride) was originally introduced as a means of treating depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, panic disorder, and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

In January of this year, however, Pfizer won FDA approval for use of Zoloft to treat premenstrual dysphoric disorder, as well as social-anxiety disorder, or “social phobia.” Last week, the FDA okayed Zoloft for treatment of “the entire range of unpleasant or otherwise negative social, physical, and mental feelings that an individual may experience in the course of a human life.” “At first, Zoloft was only used to treat depression,” Pugh said. “But what is depression, really? Who died and gave doctors the authority to dictate who is and isn’t depressed? One man’s hangnail could be another man’s darkest depths of despair. Isn’t medication a tool to help people lead better, happier lives? Access to drugs should not be restricted to those the medical community officially deems ‘sick.'”

Pfizer president James Vernon said the “Zoloft For Everything” campaign will employ print and TV ads to inform potential users about the “literally thousands” of new applications for Zoloft. Among the conditions the drug can be used to treat: anxiety associated with summer swimsuit season, insecurity over sexual potency and performance, feelings of shame over taking an antidepressant, and a sense of hollowness stemming from losing an online auction. A Zoloft ad is slated to run in next week’s issue of People.

In today’s fast-paced world, Vernon said, people don’t have time to deal with mood changes. “Zoloft has always helped clinically depressed people modulate serotonin levels and other chemical imbalances that make life unlivable for them,” Vernon said. “But now, Zoloft can also help anyone who needs their emotions leveled off. Do you find yourself feeling excited or sad? No one should have to suffer through those harrowing peaks and valleys.”

Anita White of Yuma, AZ, sought out Zoloft after seeing one of the new commercials. “I was sitting on the couch, just watching TV, and, for the life of me, I couldn’t motivate myself to go down to the basement to do the laundry,” White said. “Luckily, a Zoloft ad came on right at that moment went to their web site and, sure enough, one of the ‘Is Zoloft Right For You?’ quiz questions was, ‘Are you unable to motivate yourself to go down to the basement to do the laundry?’ That’s when I knew.”

Other pharmaceutical companies are following Pfizer’s lead. On Tuesday, Paxil manufacturer GlaxoSmithKline unveiled its new ad slogan, “Paxil… Give It A Try.” Eli Lilly, maker of Prozac, is slated to launch a similar campaign built around the slogan, “Pot Roast Burnt? Husband Home With The Flu? You’re Having One Of Those Prozac Days.” “We are letting consumers know that if they suspect Zoloft might improve the quality of their lives, they should contact their doctor,” Pugh said.

“And remember, you’ll need to take Zoloft for at least eight weeks to make sure it’s working.” Pugh warned that Zoloft use may cause side effects such as agitation, erratic behavior, restlessness, difficulty speaking, or shaking of hands and fingers. He added that Zoloft can help those suffering from agitation, erratic behavior, restlessness, difficulty speaking, and shaking of hands and fingers.

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/28349

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