As with many new mothers whose bodies have gone south on them, swimsuit shopping can be a nightmare. In a dressing room that makes a phone booth seem like the Biltmore, I squished two young children, myself, and all their circus gear. I chose a conservative one-piece, black and fully functional. The girls were still and focused, no escapees this day. After the sheer miraculous act of getting in the suit, I stood looking in the mirror, uncertain of the outcome.Read More Post a comment (0)
It doesn’t go without saying that age confers wisdom; from King Lear to Captain Ahab, literature offers
us images of old men who make colossal and foolish mistakes. “Do not let me hear of the wisdom of
old men,” T. S. Eliot writes, “but rather of their folly.” His reminder not to sentimentalize the archetype of the wise elder, or to reduce it to cliché, reiterates an ancient truth: that wisdom and folly often look strangely alike. Joseph’s effort to correct Jacob as he reaches to confer his blessing on the younger grandson is the kind of intervention any of us might attempt when we witness the momentary confusion of an old person whose vision or memory or clarity of mind is unreliable. We redirect them. We lead them back into the safe bounds of propriety, trying to cover over their unruly and wayward behaviors. We give them diagnostic labels that sometimes serve only to relieve us of the more subtle and arduous effort to interpret the logic of the dreams they inhabit. Certainly clinical evidence attests to the literal, tragic loss of brain function that afflicts many elders. But it behooves us, if only to err on the side of dignity, to honor the humanity and inquire into the hopes that underlie their foolish mistakes. Some of them speak more than they know. Some of them know things that cannot be contained within the limits of convention.
Years ago, noted behavioral psychologist B. F. Skinner, then in his eighties, presented a speech at the American Psychological Association’s annual conference titled “Growing Old Gracefully as a Psychologist.” Skinner’s understanding of the human condition, reflected clearly in his remarks, revolved around two assumptions: the empty box and control by reinforcers.Read More Post a comment (0)
The question began a journey into joy. Dallas had asked me to comment on The Divine Conspiracy as he wrote it. Every few months there would be a newly finished chapter in the mailbox. The explosive themes of the first two chapters- the invitation of Jesus to experience external living right now, the integration of our little kingdoms with the big kingdom of God, the limitations of the gospels of sin management- challenged me deeply. But the opening theme of the third chapter did not. It evoked tremendous resistance.Read More Post a comment (0)
A few weeks ago, my husband attended a workshop on Scottish food and drink. It was a recreational class, and he went to enjoy new cuisine and learn a little more about the culinary history of the Scots (for example, how in the world did haggis come about?). After an afternoon of learning about the geography and its effects on the various products that come out of Scotland, the instructor said something fascinating: “Our palates don’t fully develop the ability to appreciate a range of bitterness until we’re in our late thirties or early forties.”Read More Post a comment (0)
We attempted something different for Join the Conversation this time—we wanted to hear your input on the topic for this issue, to be included in this issue. Typically, reader feedback is an issue or two behind schedule due to the nature of publication and our “letter to the editor” style for this feature. This time, we reached out to you via Continuing the Conversation, our quarterly e-newsletter (which is a response to your request for more of the things you like from the print journal), to ask you how you respond to God’s repeated invitations away from fear and toward him.Read More Post a comment (0)
When lovelessness is present, we become wounded. Woundedness can give rise to the two basic forms of evil
in relations to others—assault and withdrawal.
— Dallas Willard
Fear and love are the warp and woof of the universe; opposites—both physiologically and spiritually. Neither can be fully alive in the presence of the other; emotional oil and water.
I learned some of this from two encounters with snakes.
Have you ever met a snake—so close you could see the black in its eyes?Read More Post a comment (0)
Tears streamed down the woman’s face as she embraced me. “I’m so sorry about your daughter” were the only words I could muster. I was standing in a crowded parking lot on a very hot June morning. I was working as a consultant for homicide detectives who were investigating the rape and murder of one young girl and the violent rape of another. We had convened in that place for a coordinated neighborhood canvass in an attempt to stir up new evidence as to who committed the two crimes. This woman’s daughter had been brutally murdered in broad daylight, just a few hundred yards from her high school. Like most teens, at the time of her death this young girl’s mind was undoubtedly occupied with homework, boys, and the routine business of the day. She believed she would live forever, and her mother, like most of us parents, assumed she would see her daughter grow up, marry, and have her own children. None of these things matched reality.Read More Post a comment (0)
There is nothing quite so startling as tiny cold fingers poking you out of deep sleep coupled with the repetitious phrase, “Mom, Mom? Are you awake? I’m scared!” Whether they are daytime fears of calamity or the nighttime fears of the unknown and separation, childhood fears are common, and everyone seems to have an opinion on them and how to deal with them. To be sure, many childhood fears are specific to circumstances. For example, we live in Colorado, and at the time of this writing, we are watching a wildfire burn on a ridge about thirty miles from us, as the crow flies. We often want to quiet these fears directly, to come at them head-on, and while that might work for a short time, it is a Band-Aid solution instead of a deep healing for the disease of fear.Read More Post a comment (0)
It’s a familiar story: Two disciples on the road to Emmaus late on the day of the resurrection encounter a stranger, share with him the sorrowful news of the crucifixion, and invite him to supper. As he breaks bread with them, “their eyes were opened.” One might easily read past this simple declaration and miss the enormity of what it reports. Rembrandt didn’t miss it, however. His 1628 Supper at Emmaus takes bold measure of the amazement, shock, even terror of that moment of revelation. However much any one of us might wish we could see the Risen One face to face, Rembrandt reminds us it is good to remember that the darkened glass through which we see protects us from something few could withstand.Read More Post a comment (0)