I’ve been fumbling around lately. There’s a lot going on in my head (which may be dangerous). You’ve seen the results of some of it, but not too much. I feel torn though. I have a lot of different people who read this blog. Some of them (hi Mom) read it because they love me. Others read it because I’ve fooled them into thinking I’ve got something interesting to say every once in a while. But I find that I want to focus my scope here. So, I’ve been doing some building and creating. I’ve made a couple of other homes … this may make me feel slightly schizophrenic, I don’t know. But I made a blog to talk about my family life; hockey, homeschooling, etc. Like I can brag over there that LightGirl was named Player of the Week on her team last week. That blog is called Grandfather Ent and if you’ve developed any sort of interest in my kids and their hockey, you can follow them over there. I also decided that I needed a place to write about my adventures in quilting because not writing about it was making me a little bit nutty. I’m also going to post occasional photos of my WISPs (that is Works In Slow Progress). I called that blog Withywindle Counterpanes. I’ll be writing more about churchy, Jesusy things here from now on and keeping my children and design things for my “other” spaces. I’ll see how that works.
I’ve done some maintenance on my sidebar here too. I’ve split up my blogroll into two pieces. I wanted to call attention to the women bloggers that I follow and give them a special place. So I called that folder “Galadriel” for the leader of Lothlorien in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. She was a leader with power who focused on peace. The men that I follow are still under “Beacon-Hills” which I also think is fitting.
You may have noticed a trend here … I seem to find a lot of my nomenclature from MiddleEarth. Yep. I do. That’s because those stories have always spoken into my life and continue to do so. For instance, Calacirya is the name of a ravine. It’s mentioned only once in the books … but it’s known as the Ravine of Light, hence the reason I refer to my husband and children as LightHusband and LightChildren. I used to have a pseudonym which was Celtic and meant Lady of Light. I like the light theme and will be using it more often in the future. I’m not certain how that will play out, but it will.
I’ve also added a couple of icons to my sidebar. One is for the new book written by Patrick Oden, It’s A Dance. This icon leads to the website he’s created to go with the book. Patrick’s got a unique vision for church that I’d like to encourage … so here’s my tiny, little helping hand. Click on that link and explore his site. Better yet, read the book! then go to the website. I know Thanksgiving is nigh, but I now have a hunger for something better and not yet after reading it. I’m fairly certain it’s not pie!! The second icon will lead you to the Daily Office of the Northumbria Community. I’ve been praying that off and on for several years now out of my book (Celtic Book of Daily Prayer), which can get awkward and cumbersome; flipping back and forth between bible and pages, etc. I just discovered that the Northumbria Community has their Office on-line and it is sooooo convenient. I even built myself a “gadget” for my Google Homepage … it will be available to the general public in about ten days if you’re interested.  This makes it fabulously easy to pray with the saints worldwide. So you can get to it through the icon on my sidebar and wander around the island at Northumbria for a while. Then stay and pray with me if you will. I’d love it.
There you have it … I’m seeking some zen or other of blogging. I’ll let you know if I find it. We’ll see if this works out … or not.
I had my hair done yesterday. It’s something I’ve only recently begun treating myself to. This is a lengthy process that allows me substantial time by myself to meditate in the chair. I suppose I could bring a book and read. But usually I just close my eyes, rest and meditate. Today I found myself praying. It was simple prayer. Slowly I became aware that U2’s “Mysterious Ways” was playing. I heard it again as if for the first time. And I suddenly realized … Bono is singing about the Holy Spirit. Rock ON! And I continued praying.
Mysterious Ways Johnny take a walk with your sister the moon Let her pale light in to fill up your room You’ve been living underground Eating from a can You’ve been running away From what you don’t understand… Love She’s slippy You’re sliding down She’ll be there when you hit the ground It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways Johnny take a dive with your sister in the rain Let her talk about the things you can’t explain To touch is to heal To hurt is to steal If you want to kiss the sky Better learn how to kneel (on your knees boy) She’s the wave She turns the tide She sees the man inside the child It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright Lift my days, light up my nights One day you will look…back And you’ll see…where You were held…how By this love…while You could stand…there You could move on this moment Follow this feeling It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright We move through miracle days Spirit moves in mysterious ways She moves with it She moves with it Lift my days, light up my nights
Mysterious Ways
Johnny take a walk with your sister the moon Let her pale light in to fill up your room You’ve been living underground Eating from a can You’ve been running away From what you don’t understand… Love
She’s slippy You’re sliding down She’ll be there when you hit the ground
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways
Johnny take a dive with your sister in the rain Let her talk about the things you can’t explain To touch is to heal To hurt is to steal If you want to kiss the sky Better learn how to kneel
(on your knees boy)
She’s the wave She turns the tide She sees the man inside the child
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright Lift my days, light up my nights
One day you will look…back And you’ll see…where You were held…how By this love…while You could stand…there You could move on this moment Follow this feeling
It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright She moves in mysterious ways It’s alright, it’s alright, it’s alright
We move through miracle days Spirit moves in mysterious ways She moves with it She moves with it Lift my days, light up my nights
If you feel like praying today … you could too. I’m heading to court with BlazingEwe. We’re providing moral support for TexasBlueBelle, BlueMan and their neighbors as all those Peace Order cases are heard.
She moves in mysterious ways …
The last time I stood in a church and participated in communion was March 4, 2007. I have not stepped into a sanctuary or had the Eucharist since then. I did not go to church on Easter. Not at Pentecost. When I had my annual physical recently, my doctor was astonished that I have forsworn the gathering of the saints. She was very concerned about that.
The friend I spoke of in my previous post has dealt with her issues of trust in another fashion. Her family attends a local mega-church. As she put it, “Why do you think we go to a church of 11,000 people?” And I responded, “That’s why we don’t go to church at all.”
Yesterday, however, I gathered with friends at the home of TexasBlueBelle and BlueMan. There were friends of their children present as well. The house overflowed with teenagers, adults, and children of all ages. The neighbors who have stood by them were there too. The couple from the neighborhood who have remained steadfast have lived there for seven years. They are not Jesus following people or people of any particular book. At one time or another it seems that they were indoctrinated in the ways of church, but that was long ago and far away.
We had lunch and heard the tales in the first person from all four of them for a little while. Things are much worse than I thought. When we all drove in there were people outside watching us arrive. There were people watching the house every time we stepped outside. It was eerie. It was weird. I wondered what they thought we would do or they would see. I waved and smiled as I left. There are six Peace Orders on the court docket scheduled to be heard on Friday, October 5.
After lunch we gathered in the livingroom for a communion service that I’d put together that included some prayers … the Lorica of St. Patrick, a Caim Prayer and we had open prayer for my friends and their neighbors. Then we all took communion together.
“Church” happened all afternoon. Love was present in the room. In the house. In the yard. Love and hope and joy and wonder filled the air as we gathered together to support our friends and celebrate communion together. We prayed for shielding from hate and persecution. We prayed for redemption and reconciliation. We prayed for peace.
I wish I had words for the beauty of what happened in that livingroom. I know that a lot of people cried, but I didn’t. I don’t always cry when things move me, but I will always treasure that afternoon. The prayers of the people and the children were simply beautiful. They were simple. And beautiful. And filled with hope. It was food and drink for the soul in ways that have no words.
The bread of heaven and the cup of salvation … world without end.
I almost never do this. In fact, I can’t think of a single time that I have done this. But I’m doing it now.
I’m going to ask all of you, my blogger friends, to pray. Please pray and pray hard (whatever that means), in whatever faith you know, for some friends of mine.
I cannot give you many details. But here is what I can tell you.
This involves my friend TexasBlueBelle and her husband, BlueMan. Many years ago, in land not so far from here but in another life, BlueMan made some mistakes. He made a bad choice. In his own words, “God got a hold of him not long after, and he repented of that mistake.” He turned himself in to the authorities. He even spent some time in prison. He spent a longer time on parole. He spent even more time in counseling to ensure that he would never make that mistake again.
Now I did not know TexasBlueBelle or BlueMan when he made the bad choice. I met them afterwards, when he was on parole. I know that he will never make the bad choice again. I know that for many, many reasons which I cannot go into here. But suffice it to say that I know and trust both of them with my life.
His parole ended a few years ago and now he is free to move about the country. So things being what they are, TexasBlueBelle, BlueMan and their children picked up and moved about a month ago. Not too far from here, but to another state. They moved to the house of their dreams. Heck … it’s the house of my dreams. It’s a beautiful little house, with a gorgeous backyard … and a jacuzzi tub. They have wonderful neighbors, one on each side.
It’s the rest of the neighbors in the cul de sac who I must ask you pray for. They are making life exceedingly miserable for my friends and their family and now even their neighbors. They have found out about BlueMan’s bad choice. They have made ugly assumptions about him based on his past. They are posting “No Trespassing” signs in their yards. They are attempting to swear out restraining orders against him when he’s never said a word to them (they will find out when they get to the courthouse that he actually has to do something to get a restraining order … but that is beside the point). The powers and principalities have overtaken the cul de sac that my friends live on. Please pray for my friends. Pray that they will be able to live in peace there in the house of their dreams, with the gorgeous backyard … and jacuzzi tub. That they will be able to raise their children there and live a quiet life of peace.
A group of us are gathering in their home on Sunday afternoon to pray as well at 2 p.m. eastern time. If you feel lead to join your heart with us at that time, we’d appreciate it.
… is like a millstone. It is a weight about the ankles. Dogging footsteps. Marauding thoughts.
Time passes. Does it heal? I wonder …
Erin (Decompressing Faith) and Lynn (Beyond 4 Walls) have organized a Synchroblog for today about prayer. Lynn asked a question on Emerging Women about how our prayer life has changed or emerged as our faith has morphed and changed. This lead to a conversation and then an invitation and now we’re all writing about how our prayer life.
I will lead with a confession. My prayer life stinks. I have perfected the language of the appearance of holiness in this regard, but the reality is … I suck. I am terrible at maintaining relationships with flesh and blood people so how can I maintain a relationship with an ephemeral God?
Of all the parts of my faith life my prayer life is the most shriveled. I am not constant. I cannot find quiet space. I have lots of excuses for this. I homeschool. My husband works from home. There is no quiet time or space ever in my life (unless I wake up at some unGodly hour). But those are excuses. The truth is … I find excuses. I find rationale. This has always been the case for all of my life. That is what I learned in the evangelical church in which I “grew up;” in which I spent the first 14 years of my faith life.
I learned how to pray spontaneous prayers. I learned about having quiet time. I learned that both are requirements for a thriving life of faith in a Christian community. I had neither. I still have neither. My prayer life is shriveled and barren. I do not pray in public unless the Holy Spirit takes over and gives me words that I must speak.
But …
There are some bright spots on the horizon.
Since leaving the evangelical church I have found some old and different ways of praying that have helped. My favorite is the Lord’s Prayer. Some days I just say that to myself at various times throughout the day. There are days when that is all I have. Some days even that is in tatters and I just have pieces of it.
I’ve discovered that liturgy is a balm for me. I know that this is not true for everyone. But for me repetitive prayers become healing and allow God to speak into my life in ways that I have not found before. My favorite book for these is the Celtic Book of Daily Prayer. When I had my nervous breakdown in Jan. 2006 I asked my family to engage in praying the hours with me. That became a lifeline for me. I loved those prayers every day. My family … not so much. I would love to begin having morning and evening prayers again several times a week. I find that communal/familial engagement is helpful for me.
The other thing that has become helpful for me is to engage with God during the times when my hands are busy but my mind is not. These are times like when I’m sewing, or cleaning or taking a shower. When I’m involved in a repetitive task that doesn’t take any thought (or very little) I find myself engaging in thought prayer and being able to listen/meditate as well. I sometimes have a snippet of a liturgical prayer or song that repeats while I’m thinking or listening. Sometimes I’m having an active conversation. Sometimes I cry out.
So, my prayer life looks nothing like what I was taught and I think it could be better. But … for right now, it’s what it is. I’ll leave you with my favorite prayer from the Northumbrian Community:
Lord, You have always given bread for the coming day; and though I am poor, today I believe. Lord, You have always given strength for the coming day; and though we are weak, today I believe. Lord, You have always given peace for the coming day; and though of anxious heart, today I believe. Lord, You have always kept me safe in trials; and now, tried as we are, today I believe. Lord, You have always marked the road for the coming day; and though it may be hidden, today I believe. Lord, You have always lightened this darkness of mine; and though the night is here, today I believe. Lord, You have always spoken when time was ripe; and though you be silent now, today I believe.
Lord, You have always given bread for the coming day; and though I am poor, today I believe.
Lord, You have always given strength for the coming day; and though we are weak, today I believe.
Lord, You have always given peace for the coming day; and though of anxious heart, today I believe.
Lord, You have always kept me safe in trials; and now, tried as we are, today I believe.
Lord, You have always marked the road for the coming day; and though it may be hidden, today I believe.
Lord, You have always lightened this darkness of mine; and though the night is here, today I believe.
Lord, You have always spoken when time was ripe; and though you be silent now, today I believe.
Please visit these other “How Do You Pray” Synchroblog participants. Cindy Bryan Teach Me to Pray…Again? Lyn Hallewell God, Prayer and Me Erin Word Prayer=Sex with God Rick Meigs Prayer Helps that Get Me Deeper Alan Knox Pray without Ceasing Julie Clawson Prayer Synchroblog Heather Synchroblog Prayer Alex (Heather’s Husband) Prayer Synchroblog II Lydia How Do You Pray Che Vachon My Thoughts… Paul Mayers Praying and Learning to Pray Again Sonja Andrews The Appearance of Holiness Jon Peres How Do I Pray? Paul Walker One Congregation Experiments with Emerging Prayer Susan Barnes Synchroblog: How Do You Pray? Brother Maynard Fear Not the Silence Nate Peres How Do I Pray? Barry Taylor Synchroblog:How Do You Pray? Emerging Grace Clearance Sale on Intercession Books Jim Lehmer Synchroblog – How Do You Pray? Lew A How Do You Pray? – Synchroblog Jon Hallewell When I’m Spoken To Deb Prayer Synchroblog Barb Prayer without Throwing Things Patti Blount How Do I Pray Doug Jones How I Pray Glenn Hagar Prayer Phases Pam Hogeweide The Art of Blue Tape Spirituality Mary How Do I Pray? Rhonda Mitchell Prayer SynchroBlog John Smulo Praying Naturally Rachel Warwick How Do You Pray? Barbara Legere How to Not Pray Jonathan Brink Posture – Sitting With My Daddy Andy How Do I Pray Cynthia Clack How Do I Pray Makeesha Fisher The Mystery of Prayer Joy Synchroblog:Prayer
I remember when this came out. It was one of R.E.M.’s biggest hits. I wasn’t listening to very much R.E.M. at the time, but I’d really liked them at an earlier time in my life. When this song came out, I was firmly entrenched in conservative evangelicalism, and R.E.M. was definitely on the “do not listen to” list. I know I heard the song because I still secretly liked them and couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with them. I understood the ban on groups like Red Hot Chili Peppers (even though I still liked them too), but R.E.M.? I didn’t get why adults were getting their panties in a wad over this. I got it in terms of that verse about only contemplating things that are holy, good, pure, true, etc. But … still … wtf? I didnt get it.
So I heard the song and loved it … but it scared me. Losing my religion. What would happen to me if I ever lost my religion? Where would my underpinings go? What would it look like to not have religion? It was a frightening thought. I was comfortable with my religion at the time … comfortable enough, that is. Comfortable, if I didn’t think to carefully or deeply.
In 1998, LightHusband had a back injury that threw him into a downward spiral of pain and suffering that would not end. It was a seemingly intractable injury that had no cause and for all intents and purposes, no cure. He ended up leaving the Army because of the injury after three years of doctor’s visits, two years on narcotics to control the pain, and several experimental courses of treatment that further aggravated his injury. At the very end of the journey we finally got a diagnosis … he is hypermobile and his ligaments had not held his sacro-iliac joint stable. The injury he had sustained is normally only seen in pregnant women and people who have been in front-end automobile collisions. In his case, it had been a repetitive use injury from wearing his drum for 18 years.
To say that I prayed during those three years would be an understatement. And yet, it would also be a lie. I prayed at first. I prayed as though my life depended on it … because in some ways it did. But my prayers did no good. They did nothing. They did not change our situation. They did not change me. They did not change God. They did nothing. Except create a very bitter knot in my heart. I finally gave up praying. I told my friends that they could pray if they wanted, but I was done. I left off the last part of that sentence, because it’s heresy in the conservative evangelical church. But I was done. I was too angry to pray. I just wanted to leave town.
I wanted to leave town. Leave the church. Leave this stupid God who does stupid horrid things like this. Or if he doesn’t do them, He allows them and doesn’t give us any answers. He allows huge tsunamis to rise up and kill thousands on a holiday. He allows hurricanes like Katrina. He allows babies to snatch our hearts and then they die without warning in the midst of the night.
John Smulo wrote a post several days ago asking about how do we defend God to our well-meaning friends and relatives who ask about this. Who ask how we can still have faith in a God who either does such things or allows such things and does nothing to repair them? As I tried to answer that question, I found I have none. There is no explaining why I still have faith.
I believe that I have lost my religion. But I still have my faith. Somewhere in the midst of it all … between then and now … I lost my religion. It’s in tatters. That has been a frightening thing. It’s also been sad. But I still have my faith in God, in Jesus, in the Holy Spirit.
Truthfully, what little I know of God does not give me the evidence to defend Him in the face of all the evil in the world. I have no “blessed assurance” that I’m going to some pearly gates when I die. I have none of that anymore. What I do have is this … the knowledge that there is a God and that S/He loves me and desires some sort of communion with me; indeed with all of us. I’m not certain what that communion looks like, but I’m damn sure it’s more than a cracker crumb and a dribble of grape juice. I do know that whatever S/He is, S/He is much, much, much larger than anything anyone of us can imagine. And Her vision of how justice will be played out is likely to be much, much different from mine … which is probably a good thing too.
I don’t defend God anymore. The way I figure it, if God really did create the universe She can defend herself. There’s not much I can say in his defense. Most people have made up their minds and legal arguments aren’t going to change them … hell … legal arguments rarely sway people in a court room, why should they work in a space as delicate as our beliefs about our origins. The thought is sort of silly.
Losing my religion … I’m slowly but surely turning my back on church as I know it. The church as described by Jesus in the Gospels is a beautiful place … a place I’d like to be part of. So is the church that Paul describes in his epistles. But once Constantine got his grubby hands on religion and the state took hold of things … well … I want to say, I never knew you. It’s not a place that has any room left for God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit. It’s a place that tears people apart, chews them up, leaders use their followers and followers use their leaders — all to their own ends.
I read the gut-wrenching article by William Lobdell from the LATimes and thought, “I get it. I understand what he thinks.” I’m not where he is, I don’t think I’d make the decisions he made. But I understand them. I understand that eventually you cannot maintain that level of cognitive dissonance between what Jesus teaches and what the church teaches and call yourself a Christ follower.
I have no idea where my journey will take me next. I am in the waiting place. I am waiting to hear from God about what to do and where to go next.
The past couple of days have been hectic. Saturday saw the return of the GrandPea to camp and an unanticipated visit to an Urgent Care clinic for LightGirl. It seems that she may have torn her meniscus while at hockey camp last week. She’s on crutches now and we’re wending our way through the medical system to see how we should best proceed. Sunday began with a family breakfast then packing, sorting laundry and good-byes. Good-bye to GreatPea (my aunt), LightMom and GrandPea, as LightChildren were off to a week with their other grandparents. LightHusband and I are back at camp. And peace. And quiet. And phone calls to doctors. And just a little bit of worry.
LightMom and I went to a quilt exhibit together. She loves to look at quilts almost as much as I do. The difference being that I like to also make them. We saw these quilts at the Shelburne Museum. The exhibit was called: Something Pertaining to God: The Patchwork Art of Rosie Lee Tompkins. Rosie Lee (not her real name, she took a pseudonym so she wouldn’t become too proud) said she would think of something important when she pieced, you know something pertaining to God … I really liked that. I think about those things when I’m piecing and quilting too. If I’m making a quilt for someone specifically, I pray for that person or their family. Or I weave thoughts and dreams for them into the quilt. This is likely not unique to me and/or Rosie. I think that many quilters weave hopes and dreams into their quilts. I liked the way that Rosie put it “… something pertaining to God.”
Rosie’s voice is tied up in her quilts (and quilted book pouches … she made some to match the quilts). She died a couple of years ago. I wish her voice was verbal instead of fabric. I have no doubt she has some wonderful earthy wisdom to pass on. I’ll bet it’s colorful and interesting too … told with a twist. Born and raised in Arkansas, then she raised a family of five in California. I’m certain she had stories to tell. What a treat it would have been to sit quietly, stitching and listening as she sewed and talked … just to hear her voice and learn her technique.
I have sat and stitched with other quilters; learned their techniques, talked with them, cried with them, shared secrets with them. I’ve learned over the years which voices to listen to. Which have knowledge that I can profit from and which are fun to chat with, and which will give me support. Who to call for help with applique or help with quilting or help with tricky set-in seams. I’ve learned how to sort out the voices … who will tell me what is tried and true.
I’ve been thinking about that today. I’ve been thinking about voices and who I listen to. And who I don’t. And why. I’ve come to love the internet. It’s a great place. You can find anything there that you want. For instance, I scared myself skinny (well … almost) about LightGirl’s meniscus tear this morning. You have to be selective about which voices you’re going to listen to out on the big wide internet. There are voices out there which will scare you and cause you pain. I’ve found over time that when I keep going back to those voices (getting scared and/or hurt), that the authors are not the inflictors of the fear and/or pain … I am. The site is static. I am going to it. If I keep going to it and getting scared, then I need to stop. So I do. As in this morning, I stopped looking for information when it was causing me too much worry about LightGirl’s condition. I’ll wait til we get a definitive diagnosis from a real doctor, instead of the dr. dolittle on the internet. I love the fact that I have control over who I listen to and when and why. So that if I’m in pain or fear I can stop listening to that voice.  And listen instead to the voices of quilts or quilters … or even, the Holy Spirit.
Emerging Grace did some writing a few weeks ago about an issue that has grabbed me by the teeth. Or hair. Or something. In any case, I can’t let go of it, or it me. We’ve been wrestling with each other, this issue and I. Neither of us bloody yet, or unbowed. But, after weeks of grappling, pondering and meditating, this issue and I are still taking the measure of one another. She wrote about the issue of leaving a church under a cloud (to put it mildly). The two posts that have me thinking the most are: Always Be Nice and Church Politics. Go read them now, and the comments if you want. I’ll wait here for you.
Yep, they really are that good, aren’t they? I thought so too. That’s why I wanted you to read them.
In any case, here are some of the things I’ve been thinking about as a result of reading her posts. One is that her most recent post, Church Politics, finally gave me a name for some of the things that have happened to me in church. I’ve been bullied in church. Who’d a thunk it? That there would be bullies in church … it’s the one place where we are supposed to be safe from such behavior. But it’s also the one place where bullies are kept safe. They learn early on how to operate, manipulate, and scheme within the system because no one can believe that such ugly things are happening in, of all places, a church!
With a nod to Grace for putting me on the trail, I found this website on bullying that is from the UK. It is quite dense and informative. It’s focus is on bullying in the workplace, but I think the crossover can be made to church quite easily. There are other sites for bullying and it’s sibling, mobbing, out there, but the UK site by Tim Fields is the most comprehensive site I found.
I spent hours on that site. Torn between flabbergasted and relief. Relief that I hadn’t imagined it; I wasn’t off my gourd or going crazy. Flabbergasted that this is so prevalent amongst adults that websites have been dedicated to it. Flabbergasted to find that my experience is far from unique. I wish it were unique. I wish that other people had not gotten hurt as I’ve been. But there it is … I’ve left a church as the result of bullying. The bully did things like:
There were other pieces of the puzzle that fit too, but those were the glaringly obvious bits. Then I found that Mr. Fields has identified four different bully types and was astonished to discover this description in there. It is my sense that many bullies which are “called” into ministry fit in this description, so I’m posting it here for those of you who will find it useful (remember … not all of these need to be present in a person, simply a preponderance of them make a bully):
The Attention-Seeker Motivation: to be the centre of attention Mindset: control freak, manipulation, narcissism Malice: medium to high; when held accountable, very high
The Attention-Seeker
Motivation: to be the centre of attention Mindset: control freak, manipulation, narcissism Malice: medium to high; when held accountable, very high
emotionally immature selectively friendly – is sickly sweet to some people, rude and offhand to others, and ignores the rest is cold and aggressive towards anyone who sees them for what they really are or exposes their strategies for gaining attention overfriendly with their new target, especially in the initial stages of a new working relationship overhelpful, ditto overgenerous, ditto manipulative of people’s perceptions, but in an amateur and childish manner manipulative with guilt, ditto sycophantic, fawning, toadying uses flattery to keep a person in authority on side everything is a drama, usually a poor-me drama prefers not to solve problems in own life so that they can be used and re-used for gaining sympathy and attention capitalises on issues and uses them as a soapbox for gaining attention exploits others’ suffering and grief as a vehicle for gaining attention misappropriates others’ statements, eg anything which can be misconstrued as politically incorrect, for control and attention-seeking excusitis, makes excuses for everything shows a lot of indignation, especially when challenged lots of self-pity often as miserable as sin, apart from carefully constructed moments of charm when in the act of deceiving demanding of others easily provoked feigns victimhood when held accountable, usually by bursting into tears or claiming they’re the one being bullied and harassed presents as a false victim when outwitted may feign exclusion, isolation or persecution malicious constantly tries and will do almost anything to be in the spotlight includes Munchausen Syndrome the focus of their life is to be the centre of attention
(italics mine for emphasis).
What I learned, both in my actual interactions with the bully and in my later research, is that there is nothing that can be done. There is no path one can take to save face or save the relationship, or relationships that have been destroyed. Any activity is like wriggling your fingers in a Chinese finger trap … the harder you try to escape, the tighter you are enveloped in it’s clutches. There is only one method of release and that is turning around and walking away. Relax, admit defeat and walk away. Admit you are powerless, admit you have lost everything … and leave before anyone else gets hurt. So that is what I did.
I’m alone now with my husband and one or two friends. I wonder often now, how it is that God could have left me so high and dry, so vulnerable in His house, His Body. Who is this God who abandons His child in the midst of His temple? Perhaps, then, it wasn’t His temple after all … it’s really the only conclusion I’m left with.
We went to Costco the other day. We approached mecca withOUT a list. It was wrong, oh so very wrong. It was bad for our budget and broke our bank. It was a needful shopping trip and we have not been in a very long time. Here’s the thing about Costco: Never. Go. Without. A List. Ever.
I have to say though we did find a couple of fantastic buys on books. Some really spectacular books on the deep ocean and deep space for only $15 each. The really big coffee table kind of books with fabulous photographs in them. I perused the book table at length. I was tempted by only a few books. Really had to counsel myself over the book on Mid-Atlantic gardening. But one book in particular caught my eye and left me filled with … hmmm … not sure what the word is … dismay, perhaps. The book was entitled, Ten Prayers God Always Says Yes To, by Anthony Destefano.
I flipped through it briefly. It didn’t seem to threatening. But I have to say that the title seems arrogant. I read the description on Amazon. Apparently the prayers are for some generic things such as courage, forgiveness and the like. But here’s the thing … I’ve prayed for those things before. While God hasn’t said no, trust me, I’ve gotten no answer for a while. I’ve been left hanging. Or gotten the equivalent of what LightGirl calls “the dark look.”
If anyone has read this book and wants to disagree with me, please do. I’d love to know that there are prayers out there guaranteed to get God’s assurance. But the God I’ve interacted with is not a push-button God who can be made to perform at my command (in prayer). I’m glad because I know very, very little about how things work and I think He knows a very great deal.
