Many weeks ago (mid december?) I was asked to give my testimony to our community group. I still feel oddly disconnected, but I see it as some kind of duty to fulfill requests of sharing my story when people ask (like when I shared my experience with BBBS from stage). Anyhow, a couple weeks ago I shared from my heart, and stitched together a story illustrating how God had been pursuing me, and inevitably seeking to connect. My notes were pretty basic…

It’s been a freakin’ long time since I’ve taken a moment to post, so I’m here again to check in, although I might not be particularly thorough in my writings. Alas, it’s the way a jumble mind works.

Heather is sleeping, it’s our date night, and while I’m having a lovely time by myself perusing facebook and playing poker on my iphone, I’m sure I could be altogether more productive. But again, here I am.

I guess some reflection was (past) due.

In less than a week, Heather and I will depart on a fun-filled and fairly frantic frolick (sp?) far from home. Ha.

Here’s what’s going to happen:

Friday: Juneau to Portland.
Sunday: Portland to Seattle.
Monday: Seattle to Carson City.
Thursday: Carson City to Denver.
Sunday: Denver to Nebraska.
Monday: Nebraska to Denver, to Seattle.
Monday through Sunday: All around the greater Seattle Area for Eli’s wedding. (Port Townsend, Seattle, Leavenworth, maybe even down to Portland.)
Monday: Back to Juneau.

I’m excited, I’m scared. I’m daunted, I’m calm. It should be a great trip.

Heather’s Dad, Grandfather and Aunt will all be at the Portland FED, and Grandpa Beaudette will be recognized as one of the veterans. Very cool.

Okay, my brain was more enthusiastic than my fingers; I’m ready to tie it down for the moment. But maybe in my reflective state, I’ll be back soon! We’ll see…

Agreement.

When two agree, all heaven and earth move in providence towards making the spoken reality come to tangible fruition.

“If two of you agree on earth concerning anything that they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them. (Matt 18:19-20)”

Our marriage is an agreement to walk in our lives together along a path that we feel God leading us. When one is disrupted or distracted, our mission is derailed.

So, if agreement is powerful towards achieving any goal, why is it that we get derailed? I believe it is related to Satan’s efforts to poison our thoughts with doubt. He has the capacity, given the lack of intentional cultivation of our thoughts, to engage us in a dialog that leads us towards agreement against God’s word.

Prayer with your wife is invaluable. Bringing two together to reveal a shared heart, or to help bring understanding of the battles being lived under the surface as we pour ourselves out to him. Prayer together gives us two people agreeing on something. Prayer, to Satan, is powerful and dangerous. To God, it is powerful and part of the plan.

So the man is to offer up his strength. Yes, to some extent it will include muscles, but more often it is strength of spirit that is required. We must face the vulnerable state to engage and initiate. It can be terrifying, but for what? To put our heart on the line for someone we love? When did that become hard?

The other day I heard a snippet of a talk about the Man laying down his life for his Bride in the way that Christ laid down his life for the Church. We men (traditionally speaking) wear black and wait at the alter during the wedding because it is recognized that we are dying to ourselves, that we are sacrificing who we are to be who we need to be. I see this as a glimmer of Truth helping me to understand my own journey and actions in my marriage. I love Heather and I want to do everything in my power to enable her life and beauty to be full and fully enjoyed. She means the world to me, and I would happily step in front of any foe to protect and honor her. What does that mean for me now, here, today?

It means I need to give up my vices of comfort and false agreements that I use to hide from my true colors.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” – Marianne Williamson

My doubting and fear only serves the purposes of Satan. Walking in faith and living with belief serve our God in the highest capacity. It gives us the chance to agree with him, and in such, to manifest his purpose for our lives.

Let’s agree to walk in His purpose for our lives.

Agreement.

I don’t often recall my dreams. In fact, I’m mostly uncertain what leads to the recollection of these things. I generally fall fast asleep, and before I know it, the alarm is going off to wake me to the new day. Sometimes, on a weekend, I’ll remain in bed without an alarm and that seems to be the best route to find myself experiencing the dream state.

Last night, though I went to bed at a fairly standard time of 10pm, and was likely asleep at 10:30 after some brief journaling, I found myself nearly wide awake at 3am. Deciding to go back to bed, I fell quickly back to sleep. It seems in the last three hours, my dreams were alive again.

For the most part, I don’t like dreaming. As a kid, most of my dreams were of the scary, nightmare’ish variety. I would dream of a world tied to reality in which I was trapped in some way. Recalling the steps at the Juneau Christian Center at such a size that I could only go down the concentric ring of stairs, but they were just tall enough and I with no tools could not ever climb out. It’s a feeling of entrapment that I could never shake. That sensation would sometimes come to me in consciousness, as recently as last Tuesday while receiving a massage. My brain begins processing things as enormous entities, dwarfing me and creating a sense of fear out of nothing. I perceive things to be a different engorged size which of course is both strange and terrifying, “for we were grasshoppers in our own sight” (Numbers 13:33) as even the people around me are recognized as terrifyingly large.

And then there was the memorable ongoing childhood nightmare of being trapped on a ferry (that had it’s own onboard dock) and throughout the vessel I was chased and continuously entrapped by a host of Cyclops. I’ll save that one for another day.

Last night, it was a dream of sex. I don’t know why they come about, and generally, I don’t particularly mind them at the time – there don’t seem to be consequences beyond my woken response of guilt & regret. Last night I think I recognized the woman initially as Rekann, but then eventually noticed that she was Helen. It was in a place small and rundown by time, reminiscent of a trailer like room just larger than my mother’s own bedroom through my childhood. I don’t often recall the acts themselves, more the circumstances surrounding them. My “suitor” preparing for the act, or other innocuous details of engagement (like her adjusting a piece of insulation on the wall which released a tarp which had somehow been connected to the outside of the residence).

Maybe this links into what I had written last night before bed. Maybe it’s some type of consideration of what the future would be. Guilt in engaging with another in a post marital state. If Heather were to pass on this mortal coil and I find myself alone, would it be okay for me to begin the courtship again? Frankly I have no clue.

I can’t tell if I would rather outlive Heather or if she ought to outlive me. I would like to save her the pain of having me die and leave her behind, but simultaneously, I don’t want to steal the joy she may have in subsequent years with our family and friends. Of course this is easily flipped to myself. Do I want to stick around years beyond her death? I recognize that I don’t really have any control over these things. When it’s our time, it’s our time… As I was just reading this morning “Thy will be done.”

There’s a mantra good to live by.

-cb

While I’ve titled this posting “refocusing” I’m not yet sure that I’m close to that result. Today felt better. I wasn’t as hazy as I felt I was last night, but maybe it’s because I slept in, laid with heather, and generally had a slow-paced & relaxed day with her. Other activities to note (for the grandchildren, someday): Superbowl 30(?) was today, Green Bay Packers won, though it was fairly unimpressive to me. Maybe it’s cause I didn’t start watching until late in the game, or perhaps it had something to do with not feeling connected with anyone in the audience. Perhaps that getting older thing certainly bears truth in the connections maintained as the student population rolls over.

We missed week two of the Love & War sessions at church today. I want to realize the premise of living more deeply and feeling guilt at one thing or another is not really facilitating that. I want to be present wherever I am, and I don’t want to feel guilty for wanting to stay at home with the most important thing in my life: my wife.

Another interesting thing that’s been kicking around in the back of my head as of late is what would happen if for some reason Heather was to die, or, if she were to live. But mostly, the thought is along the lines of if she were no more. I wonder about what the next step would be for me. In an effort to articulate the desire part of my life, or the dreams… here goes:

I want to be deeply in love with my wife. It’s not just about a feeling or a choice, but a deep soulful connection that cannot be severed by man, and which if ever broken by God leaves me with an immense brokenness that only time, and further commune with my creator could ever hope to salve. I want to love so fully that I am completely vulnerable… Something said recently (at the last Love & War session) was that the guy desired to be “Naked & not ashamed”. I find that phrase significant. I too want to be Naked & not afraid. I want to be so deeply connected that the inhibitions and fears are cast off to create a completely authentic, real, present, and altogether life altering love of each other.

So, maybe the question is: on a daily basis, how do I become more vulnerable and in need of her support and care?

Back to that “if she died” thing… Bill told me recently that John Wooden had outlived his wife by nearly 20 years, and in that time he made weekly visits to her grave in order to honor her, and demonstrate his love for her. Would or could or should I be that man too? If at 30 a wife is no more, the remaining lifespan is significant. If 60 and a partner passes, does that change the dynamics of the expected behavior of the remaining spouse? If I were to die, I think I would want Heather to feel confident in her capacity to go out and live her life, to meet another man, one who takes excellent care of her and who makes her dreams come true. However, if she were to die and leave me behind, part of me resounds with the idea of committing to a life in rememberance of her. Wouldn’t leaving her behind as a memory be somewhat akin to divorce?

Anyhow, things to ponder on indeed. I’ll keep grinding on those and get back to you at some point maybe…

Till next time,
-cb

I’m sometimes perplexed by my reaction to certain comments. I wish that in a moment’s notice I can find the way to articulate the feeling that hits me. It’s different every time, but I find the bewilderment of why I’m frustrated or angered to be odd – why don’t I know what I’m feeling? Why is it that my horse even reacted in the first place? It wants to keep me as I am all the way to the grave, but why would I be prompted to react in such a visceral way, without any indication of what the feeling is of.

“I really wish you wouldn’t pick at your face.”

“Like I wish you wouldn’t chew your nails?”

Bam. Emotions are off and running.

I’m hurt. She’s right, it’s not in alignment with what I want to chew my nails. It’s not so much that it hurts me everytime, but it’s a constant nagging at the tips of my fingers to draw my attention closer…

[i ended there, distracted with the iphone poker]

Chapter 1p5.

“few…regard themselves as bad men. They are just as human as you and I. So they rationalize, they explain. They can tell you why… Most of them attempt by a form of reasoning, fallacious or logical to justify their … acts even to themselves, consequently stoutly maintaining that they should never have been [imprisoned at all].”

It’s true, if we’re all carrying the human condition, we can all be quick to support and encourage through the process; and as much as when we’re attacked, we take a defensive posture to protect our ego, others will be doing the same.

Per the conversation last night: perhaps our interactions with the human condition can be best handled through offering grace to ourselves and others.

“Criticism is futile because it puts a person on the defensive and usually makes him strive to justify himself. Criticism is dangerous, because it wounds a person’s precious pride, hurts his sense of importance and arouses resentment.”

So, another question from this: how can I be careful not to react in a defensive, justifying way? How do I avoid having my pride and sense of importance hurt?

Perhaps the answer in their lies in knowing WHO’s I am, rather than what I am based on all of the external input I may or may not receive.

Lincoln had a fairly level response, c1p10:

“Don’t criticize them; they are just what we would be under similar circumstances.”

c1p14:

“When dealing with people, let us remember we are not dealing with creatures of logic. We are dealing with creatures of emotion, creatures pristling with prejudices and motivated by pride and vanity.”

Aha, the question of how to accomplish all of this comes to mind, and here on p14, one take on the answer is outlined clearly:

“…it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving. / ‘A great man shows his greatness … by the way he treats little men.’”

And, recall the story of Hoover and the jet that nearly crashed because of the fueling accident. He responds with “character and forgiving” (c1p15):

“To show you I’m sure that you’ll never do this again, I want you to service my F-51 tomorrow.”

What a phenomenal way to help a person grow through the experience of mistake and correction. Many times, we’ll find that the person in error is already in a self-condemning place. Why not encourage, support and love them into a place of functionality. Further, if a person does not find fault in their own action, why would our efforts of criticism help them change their mind. Perhaps it would only raise the anger and bitterness of them and certainly wouldn’t enable growth and good feelings.

c1p17:

“Instead of condemning people, let’s try to understand them. Let’s try to figure out why they do what they do. That’s a lot more profitable and intriguing than criticism; and it breeds sympathy, tolerance and kindness. ‘To know all is to forgive all.’ / ‘God himself … does not propose to judge man until the end of his days’ / Why should you and I?”

Here’s another answer to to the question of HOW to handle this challenge of being gracious to others in our daily exchange… Sympathy, tolerance and kindness. So, an a word, perhaps Grace is the overarching umbrella of love to cover our friends, family and fellow fleshbags. 😉

The culminating principle: “Don’t criticize, condemn or complain.”

Heather: I want to remember to love, and cherish and communicate love and not concern. To grow the relationship rather than being concerned with appearances. To reach towards the special people in our lives to grow together in a deeper love.

The title is an adjustment on the original title as found in How to Win Friends & Influence people. The story is a meaningful reminder of building relationships rather than allowing life getting in the way. Here’s that short story for recollection farther down the road:

=====
Father Forgets
by W. Livingston Larned

Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blonde curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorese swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside.

There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor.

At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, “goodbye, Dadd!” and I frowned, and said in reply, “Hold your shoulders back!”

Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive — and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father!

Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. “What is it you want?” I snapped.

You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightened with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs.

Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding — this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was not measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.

And there was so much that was good and find and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itslef over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed!

It is a feeble atonement; I know you would not understand these things if I told them to you during your waking hours. But tomorrow I will be a real daddy! I will chum with you, and suffer when you suffer, and laugh when you laugh. I will bite my tongue when impatient words come. I will keep saying as if it were a ritual: “He is nothing but a boy — a little boy!”

I am afraid I have visualized you as a man. Yet as I see you now, son, crumpled and weary in your cot, I see that you are still a baby. Yesterday you were in your mother’s arms, your head on her shoulder. I have asked too much, too much.

=====

Heather came downstairs this morning with a hurt look in her eye, and in talking about it, she explains that it hurts that she has been pursuing me for the last several days and yet, we have not had any sex in that time.

This is such an interesting situation. I love her dearly, find her remarkably attractive, but find myself more deeply enjoying the side-by-side time at the moment.

I read from “for men only” by jeff feldhahn and find that only 1 in 4 relationships tend to have this dynamic. For some reason my sex drive is less than hers. Maybe it’s that hers is stronger than the average, but if I had to pin it down, I’d say that mine was misplaced.

I still struggle with fidelity of my eyes; I engage with pornography each week. Depending on the week, it’s 2-3 times or so. I can only imagine that this dilutes my vision of my wife.

I love her deeply, more so than I ever have before. I am committed to her, for life, more than ever before. I desire to make her dreams come true, and yet, because of this transgression, our relationship suffers.

Is it that I enjoy release? Is it that sex can be awkward? Is it that I am afraid of being thought unmanly? Is it because I am looking for things that I will never be able to find? How is it that other men have narrowed their vision? How is it that I can filter my thoughts to be solely for her?