Saturday, July 16, 2016

Not Another Blog With Biblical Scriptures

"Forgetting what lies ahead and straining towards what is ahead, I press on..."--Philippians 3:13


Basically, I don't see anything wrong with this verse, as moving forward from the past is the only path we really have in this life.  Time on this earth is linear, we move forward into the future and as of yet time travel has yet to be accomplished.  

So, I get it.  Its healthy to not linger on the past, to forget what is behind in order to continue forward towards your goals, in order to achieve your dreams.  Good idea, sounds reasonable.  

On the surface.

But, when I read it, a whole plethora of memories not so good floods up at me.  A painful realization of a time in my life when pressing forward was more important than honoring, remembering, and cherishing the past.

During my time at Calvary Chapel, I spent most of it in Sonoma County, the place of which I grew up.  In its belief that they had the final say on the literal translation of the Bible, Calvary put an emphasis on this verse.  And, in the place where I had memories from before, old class-mates, childhood friends, and the like, it became a pit of an emotional disaster.

As I mentioned previously, Calvary was very exclusionary in their world-view, not just towards the Non-Christian or Non-believer, but even going so far as to exclude other similar minded churches from being called " Truly Christian".  In addition to that, as I have mentioned before, emotions, intellect, advanced education, reading other books besides the Bible or those not dictated by the leadership was strongly discouraged, even frowned upon.  Your spiritual walk and obedience to Christ was questioned if you partook in any of the above activities.

What this resulted in, I have discovered, is a loss of understanding of self and identity as well as the inability to think for yourself.  

From some thorough examination, I have discovered Calvarys heightened focus on the "forget what lies behind" part of this verse to be disastrous to one's understanding of self, identity, and life purpose, even one's own spiritual walk.  For at Calvary, we were persuaded that any outside relationships with non-christians, whether past friends or current, were to be dealt with in the light of "bring them to church and get them saved", for there could be no closeness with someone who did not walk with Christ, at least in the Calvary worldview.

What this resulted for me, and I think for others, was a depreciation for the experiences and relationships of childhood friends, classmates, camp friends, even families.  Now seen through the eyes of what the church taught, my past memories with these friends were skewed by the judgment of the sins committed.  You were forgiven but it was constantly, by the church, drudged up about all the bad stuff you did in your BC (before Christ, for those not familiar with the lingo) days.  Thus, you were constantly in a state of shame for these past indiscretions.  What were you to do then was to move forward to heal.  The only way to change was to forget.

But, that is not possible.  Healing from the past never works if you try to merely forget.  We all have our past issues, pains, and grievances.  Stuff we carry around with us that color our understanding of our current relationships and situations.  Not dealing with that leads us to continue the cycle of destruction over and over again.  Perhaps that's Calvary Chapels true motivation, keeping the people submissive is easier if they are constantly in a place of shame.

During my time at Calvary, I had my breakdown and subsequent diagnosis with Bipolar.  The only thing that really healed and helped me was therapy, both group and individual.  Real therapy, not Christian where you read the Bible, studied some verse, and felt better.  No, that's band-aid therapy, that's almost a kin to doing a drug to cover the pain.  Very much like, in my opinion.

During my years of therapy, I did not dwell in the past or live there.  In actually, the years I spent trying to forget I dwelt more, whether living in regret over past mistakes or reliving old hurts.  In short, I didn't move forward no matter how much I said I did.

Therapy brought about true healing and forgiveness for those wrongs and hurts I caused and had done.  Through extensive therapy, I looked back, re-wrote the past, and then released it.  

However during my Calvary years pre-breakdown, I cast aside the childhood friends I care so much for.  After the breakdown and the therapy, I sit face to face with them, remembering the lovely times of our shared pasts yet cheering each other on as we move forward to our glorious futures.

Its those long-time friends that, despite my treatment of them during the Calvary years, that have remained with me.  Its the Calvary friends that have now cast me aside, choosing themselves to continue to "try and forget".  I do so hope that works for them and if not I pray they find true healing.


Never Fred. Ever.




To My Lucky # 13,

 ...I am home-sick...

You are my Doctor. I love your smile, your eyes, the way you laugh at all my jokes, the way you make me laugh, and the way it feels to hug you.

I know I have my 'human companion' but I can't help thinking I want to fly off & explore time & space with you. Does that interest you? 

If so, I'll be waiting. You know how to get a hold of me, what to call me if you really need me...

Your,

Romana

PS Can you remind me what kind of animal is your favorite kind of puppet? 

Sunday, May 22, 2016

So You're Against Transgender Restroom Usage?

So You're Against Transgender Restroom Usage?
By Jackie Pollock, Guest Author

You know I'm getting tired of hearing how bad Transgender People are; that transgender people are nothing more than perverts who get enjoyment out of peeping on females in the restroom. I'm here to tell you that in reality all transgender people want to do in public restrooms is the same doggone thing that everyone else who uses a public restroom wants to do; transgender people just want to use the restroom, do their business, wash up, and leave the restroom period. The amount that want to “spy on women and girls” don't even exist; they're fictional; they're mythical.

Why are our politicians not focusing on more prominent issues such as homelessness, economic growth (that's way too slow in my opinion), pulling us OUT of the middle east, ensuring equality for all, and more issues that are in more dire need of solving. North Carolina's House Bill Two (2), AKA HB2, makes it unsafe from transgender people to use public facilities. In the opinion of this writer signing of House Bill 2 is an illegal bill as it supports Sexual Harassment and Sexual Assault. Since Governor Patrick “Pat” McCrory signed that bill into law he basically allowed the legalization of Sexual Assault and Sexual Harassment and activated the so-called “Bathroom Police” he should be arrested and charged with the felonies of Conspiracy to commit Sexual Harassment and Conspiracy to commit Sexual Assault. I can tell you if someone grabs my genitals that is not my significant other I would be hollering for an attorney and that person would be presented with a Summons to Appear in the Civil Case I would file against that person (if not their employer as well) for Sexual Harassment and Assault. The Law Enforcement Agencies have said they won't enforce it they find it a violation of Law Enforcement Ethics.

I would ask folks to face the facts; the facts are Transgender People are desiring to do nothing but use the facilities when the restroom is entered. Also that Transgender People are part of society and have been for many years. When it comes to restroom usage and a person's Gender Identity here's the bestidea: LEAVE EVERYONE ALONE AND LET THEM LIVE AND USE THE RESTROOM FACILITIES IN PEACE!!!!!!!!

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Begin/End



As I look back over my life, I'm amazed that my life has been a constant stream of beginnings and endings, death of the old and the dawn of the new life, as it were.  From entering preschool to the day I graduated high school or college, to the day I walked into Calvary Chapel, to the time I walked out of Calvary Chapel, my wedding day and that fateful day I received my final divorce papers, and on and on it goes.

A particular crushing beginning and ending is the moment I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.   Looking back at myself during that time,  it felt more like the end of it all rather than any sort of beginning.  The end of my career, the end of so many friendships, the end of my sense of self, and almost the end of my life; however today I realize it was, in fact, the dawn of a new sense of self.



A nearby Jewish temple has a "tree of life" stained glass window at the front of their sanctuary.  During the times that I have gone to this temple, for whatever reason, I always find myself transfixed by this image.  The Tree of Life is a design similar to a DNA strand, the bottom part being the beginning and the top part the final resolution.  It's the middle part that really fascinates me.  The middle part being the times of our lives when we struggle to persevere, work our way through hard times, and once we find our way out, find that by working through all of it, our new lives, our real selves, emerge.


Today there is a new trend called the "semicolon" movement.  This thrills me completely.  The thought that this ; can signify a person's need to take a break for their mental health is a victory in my eyes.  For I have long sense seen myself as one who goes before, a role model as it were to future generations.  During my time of struggling with my mental illness, there was no such thing as the 'semicolon' movement.   My friends and I who were diagnosed and struggling during that time had to deal with the disapproval of family, friends, and society for having to pause from life.  In addition to dealing with debilitating depression, the rapid mood swings, the suicidal ideation, and sometimes the high highs, we had to face the societal stigma of mental illness.

So, what did we do? We fought.  We stood up and were open and honest with ourselves and the world around at us.  We did it for our own health, our own happiness, and our own futures.  We fought against the backlash of stigma.  And, in the end, we stand victorious with those struggling now showing that they too can overcome.  We stand as beacons of hope, those who have gone through it and survived, and even more so, are thriving.

So, the endings in my life are not always that.  They are also beginnings.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

It Begins With An Ending



Lisa pushed open the door of the computer lab and felt the cold blast of the Oregon winter force itself upon her skin, pricking her nerves further with the pang of loss and loneliness. Her boyfriend or whatever he was had finally ended things and had left her with a shattered heart and an empty feeling of despair, leaving echoes in her soul, loose memories rippling through her mind of a time when she had more confidence, a warmer time of bliss and love.

As she made her way, plodding slowly, she knew another night was upon her of homework and red wine, after the cafeteria dorm dinner, with her friends, both ways to block out the emptiness with a constant busyness and buzz.

In the state nearby, in the small city of Santa Clara, Jen Ames hurried home from her friends' house, zipping her windbreaker over her t-shirt to block out the chill spraying from the ocean. School had ended a few hours before and she had gone to her friends to study for the test the following day. Now, she hurried home to have a quick dinner before joining her parents' and her new friends for the Golgotha Temple bible study.

She did like this church better than the droll Methodist church her mom used to drag them all to—For here, the services were cool, vibrant yet relaxed. The senior pastor always wore Hawaiian shirts, the worship band played contemporary Christian songs that spoke right to her heart, the pastors taught in a way that made the Bible understandable and relevant to her life.

In his home in Northern California, Levi Temple sat dejectedly staring at his computer screen in his darkened study. Above him, in the bathroom, he could hear the bath water running for his children's post-dinner nightly rituals. His wife, Lorena's, soft voice came through the walls as she spoke to the children, working them through the process of bath, bed, and beyond.

She had given him the pass for this nightly ritual, as she could see his mind in a storm. It still affected him, even after fifteen years of leaving Golgotha Temple.  They had made a play of his name, Levi from the Levites the servants of God and his last name Temple, as if he was married to the church, a servant of the church.  He could feel the pangs of shame, the memories of the suffocating control in his youth, and his eventual abrupt departure that left him with a loss so far-reaching he could still feel the after-effects these many years later. He heaved a sigh outward and blinked back the hot tears in his eyes. Resting his hands on the keyboard, he begin to type, his story, his memories, and his thoughts on what had happened to him.


“Maybe this,” he said to himself. “Maybe this will help.”