A blog about life & trauma recovery
God is not the American dream. To have the American dream manifest itself in my life …health, wealth, and wonder…is not a signal of God's presence or His stamp of approval. It might NOT be well with my soul, even if I'm feeling at ease or basking in public approval. I might not be blessed.
It seems to me that the American Christian community, myself included, oscilates between an understanding of God as being either captive to His attribute of justice or slave to His attribute of mercy. The belief that He HAS to punish sin. And the subsequent belief that He HAS to accept us into Heaven because of what is commonly believed Christ did (i.e., penal substitution). In both cases, He's not really sovereign or free to choose but subject to these concepts. It's a 1 dimensional view of God...stagnate. It boils Him down to an idea, not a dynamic Someone we can have a relationship with. It is a path to Atheism.
You are not disqualified from mercy or care. And you don’t have to pretend to be OK if you are not. Therapy is not a magic pill and it is a path to healing. It’s OK if you don’t believe me yet. For now, I’ll believe for the both of us.
In the realm of mental health, theology matters. It was bad theology that made me sick. And correction to that theology that makes me well.
For me, there is NO greater example of how we share in Christ's suffering, to be unified with Him, than to forgive.
I was lonely and labelled it ordained. Isolated and considered it holy. But now I sit at the table. There is work to do but I am among the favored.
There is a dangerously popular myth that you get it all back...all the broken relationships are healed, all of the wasted years redeemed, when you finally surrender and get clean. I have heard it many times and let me tell you, it is simply not true.
It's in the quiet crucible of your personal, private sufferings that your noblest dreams are born and God's greatest gifts are given in compensation for what you've been through.- Wintley Phipps Today I gave birth to a son...an unexpected journey that has been an object of great anxiety in my life. I hate to admit… Continue reading A letter to my son…
When this world, its systems, the elect, our peers, conditions, finances, families and even our environment fails us, we can cling to a HOPE that anchors us...that protects us from the path of violent grief.
We were made for more than managing our dysfunction and realizing our own “power”…for playing God in our own lives or thinking we’d even be good at it.
The Voice of a Phoenix 