In case you were wondering... ; )

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved. You'd like to your lover to think you are loyal and faithful... that you'll never change. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as commitment. Love only works when both people are totally devoted.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

Obviously I have had a productive night...

woops. =)

"Oh for a book and a shady nook..."

I'm feeling rather contemplative and as though I have a gazillion ponderings to ponder, but I wish that they could just pour into this webspace rather than being routed through language and fingers.

The quote above is on a pen I have, and I am suddenly longing for a shady tree in a grassy place with bright sunshine and birds chirping and a span of time stretching out before me like a lonely gravel road. Time to fill with meandering thoughts, putting pen to journal, or pages to turn filled with the wonderings of people far from this place.

I wish I did not waste my time so in inefficiency. I might then have an afternoon to search out said shady tree and grassy place.

Ah, for simpler days...

So I yet again fumbled my self-control and spent last night beginning Aunt Jane's Hero. It's no work of great literature but it paints such a clear picture of simpler, richer days and calls one toward a noble, humble, fulfilling path and brings a sort of peace to my spirit. I look forward to having time to continue in the story beyond the hero's engagement and into the "portrait of a Christ-centered home."

Today was good--I was reasonably productive, I think. Worked in our backyard for a few hours then at a coffee shop with Naomi and Marissa which was pleasant. Daniel joined us and we meandered over to Cafe Gutenburg when the shop closed--had dinner and did some more work. Then Sarah came over and told me about her weekend which was fun and engaging.

I'm not sure why I'm suddenly recording my daily activities here.

I guess I should get to sleep.

Humility, oddly enough, leads us to recognize our human dignity... we were created for God

So I have no self-control and decided to begin reading A Guide to Living in the Truth: Saint Benedict's Teaching on Humility by Michael Casey. It's so good. I've only read 2 chapters, but Casey keeps hitting on all the things I have been thinking about humility and somewhat making me think "Why write a thesis? This guy already said everything I want to say and with much more eloquence and breadth than I could." But then even he states "to understand humility we need to use the insights from some of the behavioral sciences." So then psychology may be able to provide unique insight into this misunderstood virtue. And it is now my task to figure out the best place to start in such an endeavor. I need not write an expose on all of the nuances of humility; I need to think of a way psychology can shed light on how this virtue functions in human thought and behavior.

I feel compelled to write out some favorite passages from the little I have read thus far:

"There can be no genuine spirituality that does not take seriously the gospel imperative of the paschal mystery. We enter life through the doorway of death. Receptivity of grace involves the diminishment of certain temporal advantages. It could be said that it involves a loss of self."
This is the closest Casey has gotten to reflecting Murray's definition of humility--mainly the losing of self that God may be all. He seems to have a broader conception of the term which I think is good.

"Humility is, above all, a respect for the nature of things, a reluctance to force reality to conform to subjective factors in ourselves."

"In forgetting we are not gods, pride also makes us expect too much from ourselves [in addition to expecting too much from others]. Many people cannot forgive themselves for being human: for their slowness of mind and ineffectiveness of will. ... The first thrust of humility is to inculcate in us an acceptance that we are of the earth; we are humus."

"The recognition of our earthly nature leads us to affirm that our fundamental relationship with God is one of dependence. ... we have nothing to contribute to the relationship except our needs. Our deepest spiritual experience is to feel utterly dependent on God and to want to submit ourselves to the divine will."

"Instinctual thoughts and desires, no matter how disreputable, are not sin. Sin is the free preference for evil over goodness. It is the absurd choice we humans often make for what is intrinsically of less value. Sin is the rejection of the human tendency to seek the good, the beautiful, and the true. Sin is, fundamentally, the denial of our nature."

"To exclude the real because it is imperfect is to live a life ensconced in daydreams. As the old saying goes, 'The best is the enemy of the good.' Or in Chesterton's rephrasing of a nineteenth-century cliche: 'If it is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.'"

"Humility is truth; when opportunity and aptitude coincide, it is humility that impels us to take the risk and act. Humility is not incompatible with the gift of boldness so often mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles. There is, of course, no guarantee of the success of the action or the plaudits of onlookers. Humility helps us to cope with that uncertainty also: the value of a truthful action is not lessened by contingent effects, although it takes a little maturity to recognize this."

"Humility means setting aside the mask ... We present ourselves to others transparently, in all our imperfection and vulnerability. We depend on their good will for acceptance and love, not on the success of our efforts at self-promotion."
What a risky stance! No wonder we have a hard time being humble if our being accepted and loved by others is dependent on their mere good will. But then the Christian is always supported by the Good Will of his Father, Savior, and Spirit and by these his brothers and sisters are also able to accept and love him in his imperfection.

So then my question becomes, is it healthy for someone without the support of this Good Will to be humble? First, is it possible for someone who is spiritually dead to be clothed in humility? I think yes, in that he can accept his earthliness. But where would this humility leave such a one?

"At the heart of Christian anthropology is the conviction of a deep affinity between human nature and spiritual life. The difficulties of living spiritually do not come from our nature, as such, but from the deformation of our nature through selfishness and pride. Humility aims to eliminate the phony aspects of our life and to help us to live in truth. Part of the truth of human existence is that we are called to live for God. Humility, oddly enough, leads us to recognize our human dignity. It reminds us that we were created for God and that we will be profoundly miserable until we devote the substance of our energies to the realization of this innate potential."

So the one who does not realize that he was created for God, humility will not lead him to recognize his human dignity... what will it lead him to recognize?

______________________________________________________________

On another note, I watched Babel tonight. I do not recommend. Unless you need a reminder of the hopelessness and brokennes of this world... and who needs that? Perhaps some people do, but I've seen enough of it in real life, day to day experience lately that watching it for "entertainment" seems absurd. I feel like I really wasted an evening, and I rarely feel that way. Not only wasted, but it left me feeling sick and sad and empty. Alas. At least I enjoyed some good time with two friends and basked in the cuteness of the Burns' children.

I need a productive day tomorrow.

Lists

Things I have thought to write about lately but have not had the time or willpower:

• dancing. and what it can say about a person.
• evolution and theism. specifically, pseudogenes and "blind" variation.
• addiction to self.
• frustration with the already-not-yet. (I think I need to listen to Robert's sermon.)
• need love and gift love. and loving the Giver rather than His gifts.
  

Books laying around my room calling out to be read:

• The Narrated Bible in Chronological Order by F. LaGard Smith
• A Guide to Living in the Truth: Saint Benedict's Teaching on Humility by Michael Casey
• Bradbury Stories: 100 of His Most Celebrated Tales by Ray Bradbury
• Aunt Jane's Hero: Portrait of a Christ-Centered Home by Elizabeth Prentiss

Mind you there are a dozen or more others in here that are waiting to be read, but these I most recently acquired and, for that reason or another, seem to be shouting most loudly at present.

Things I must do this weekend instead of addressing either of the above lists:

• learning and cognition exam
• prepare for a forgiveness intervention group
• review an article on a forgiveness intervention conducted in the Philippines
• finish writing a neuropsychological assessment report
• write up 2 maybe 3 intake reports
• train myself in Imagery Rehearsal Therapy
• write a "statement of the problem" for my thesis

But first, sleep.

He must increase; I must decrease.

I read Andrew Murray's book "Humility" today.

It was both inspiring and frustrating. Inspiring in its penetrating truth that true humility is "the displacement of self by the enthronement of God. Where God is all, self is nothing." And frustrating in its seeming incompatibility with my most recent conceptualization of humility--mainly revolving around issues of self-esteem.

Throw the word "self-esteem" to a group of Christians and there is no telling the reaction you will get. Some might not even notice. Some will offer it an affirming nod--perhaps even grabbing at it as a welcome answer to a recent depression experienced. Others shake their heads--in either disgust or sorrow (depending on their humility, I submit).

I, of course, concur with those who champion a God-centered stance versus a self-centered one. But I question whether or not a God-centered life necessitates a disposal of self-esteem. "Esteem" may have been a poor word choice, but that is another issue...

As a psychologist, I guess it is my burden to explain to those who care to open themselves to learning that self-esteem is not the simple self-view it appears. There are many types of self-esteem beyond "high" and "low." I don't claim to be an expert in this area and so won't try to give a thorough review or anything... But the main point I think I want to make is that "building" self-esteem is not always about feeding your pride. I guess I'll refer back to the fact that "esteem" may not be the best word choice. Self-"appreciation" might be better if people knew the distinction between esteem and appreciation.

I like the way the Oxford American Dictionary puts it by contrasting the terms "appreciate," "admire," and "esteem." They're all concerned with recognizing the worth of something, but to appreciate something, you must understand it well enough to judge it critically. If you admire, you appreciate its superiority, and esteem implies that your admiration is of the highest degree.

In this sense then, God-centered living would esteem God alone. But by conferring God His rightful superiority, must the self necessarily be regarded as worthless? Surely we should not self-admire, but when we are called to love our neighbor as we love ourselves does this not imply that we should value the self and other equally?

However, the actual frustration I am running into with Murray is not that he attacked self-esteem but rather his emphasis on the nothingness of self, the forgetting of self, the losing of self. I do think that humility is marked by a lack of self-focus, but in my thinking lately, a noncontingent, secure self-esteem seems necessary before one is free to forget about him or herself. Am I correct in believing that we must feel safe and valuable before we are free to forget ourselves? Jesus was secure in his sense of self, that he was eternally loved and valued by God; does His humility not pour out of this confidence? Is it not true that He was able to endure the shame of the cross because He trusted the goodness of His Father's will and design? Could Christ have ever feared losing His status in His Father's eyes? I don't think so for the Father and Son love perfectly and perfect love casts out fear.

I am also wrestling with the implications of a secular humility. I suppose it is not that different than the question posed by our atheist friend at C:ER a few weeks ago... Mainly, that we are saying human love is no love at all apart from a primary love of God. Is humility no humility at all apart from a submission that God is all and I am nothing? I think there must a be a level at which the human-without-God version of things is yet a form of the real thing--a distorted form, certainly, but not wholly separate from the original intention. What do you think?

Barely Breathing

I'm barely breathing in many ways tonight.

For one, I have a sinus infection. 'Nough said.

Two, I'm definitely feeling the song by this name. And it's that whole "thinking it over" line that really gets me in trouble...

Three, I'm about to head home for spring "break" only it won't be much of a break if I'm serious about not getting kicked out of my graduate program. So that's a bit extreme maybe, but if I don't get some sort of draft whipped out for my thesis, I will be in trouble.


Here's to better breathing to come, eh?

God, help us

Today, I longed for heaven.

It feels like everywhere I look, people are afflicted--physically, emotionally, mentally, relationally. We are such a broken people--believers and nonbelievers alike. Granted I must believe that it is a different sort of brokenness; some of us have been made alive in Christ. I know this is true despite the suffering and floundering I witness all around.

I glance across the room of Common Cup and find a sweet baby girl in her mother's arms and find myself feeling sorry for her and praying that somehow, by God's amazing grace, that she would be protected from the agony of this world. That she would be raised in joy and peace and happiness and fullness. I know I am praying that she would be raised in a Kingdom where the rightful King sits on the throne and His subjects adore him and delight in obeying His commands. Where people know how to love each other; where people are not so committed to their own protection and well-being that they must miss out on the joys of loving another freely without reserve.

Yet we have good reason to be so invested in our protection, because people are cruel and ignorant and broken. We afflict each other helplessly; we don't know any better. We do the best we know how, and unfortunately, what we know how is pretty pitiful. What a mess.

God, have mercy. I implore you to pour out your Grace in a flood; we desperately need it.