Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Quantum Change

It isn't likely that many readers will identify with Ebeneezer Scrooge. He was a hardhearted, miserable miser until, in the course of one night, he made a 180 degree turnaround, transforming into a giddy, compassionate, altruist.  Does this kind of change happen in real life?

For most of us, change happens so gradually it goes unnoticed until we look back and everything is different. For some of us, change is more startling.

William R. Miller and Janet D'de Baca, PhD clinical psychologists and teachers of traditional approaches to self-improvement, became intrigued by stories of clients' experiences of sudden, dramatic change. Miller and D'de Baca placed an ad in a local newspaper for people to share their stories of unexpected, personal transformations. They were shocked by the deluge and content of responses .


They were struck by the diversity of the responses, and also by the common thread that ran through them. The personal testimonies included "bolt-from-the-blue" and "seeing-the-light" types of mystical encounters to  life-changing insights and "powerful, sudden moments of consciousness." (I describe my own transformation experience in But the Greatest of These is Love as "the scales falling off my eyes.)

To document their data, Miller and D'de  Baca published  Quantum Change, When Epiphanies and Sudden Insights Transform Ordinary Lives (2001). They define Quantum Change as being marked my four elements: vivid, surprising, benevolent, and enduring. It is vivid in that it is an identifiable, distinctive, and memorable moment when the transformation occurred, or at least began. The person is aware that something extraordinary has happened, providing the element of surprise, or awe. Even though the experience is often unsettling, there is a benevolent quality to the event, an overwhelming quality of "loving kindness" surrounding it. The change is enduring. Even decades after the event, the transformation is still intact.

These transformations are mostly dismissed by the Western world  as delusions (Science) or presumption (Religion). But the "evidence" exists in a changed life. Sigmund Freud and Karl Marx would have likely scoffed at the idea of Quantum Change, yet, William James, their contemporary, often referred to as the father of American psychology, wrote about the same phenomena in The Varieties of Religious Experience (originally published in 1902 and still available today). Stories of Quantum Change are common among spiritual giants like St. Paul, St. Augustine, Mahatma Gandhi, and Mother Teresa. In fact, most spiritual giants have a Quantum Change story.  The experience has shaped the lives of great thinkers and writers like Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, and C. S. Lewis, who said he got on a bus an atheist, and got off, a believer. Quantum Change has been the impetus of many social reformers like Joan of Arc, Florence Nightingale, and Bill Wilson.

After my spiritual metamorphosis in 2000, a friend who was aware of my experience, shared an article from Christianity Today which led me to this book, which I immediately ordered, ravenously read, and wrote Dr. Miller. He wrote me back, stating that Quantum Change isn't as rare as one might think. People hesitate to talk about their experience because of the inadequacy of words to describe their experience,  and they "feel odd." I understood this awkward difficulty. Still, it gave me hope. Miller described himself in the letter, not in the book, as a "devote Christian" and described these as "born again" experiences. Yes, me too!

In the surveys of respondents, Changers reported their priorities reversed. Characteristics that seemed important before the change, like wealth, pleasure, attractiveness, abruptly diminished in importance. The biggest single gain was in the priority given to spirituality, which previously had been at the bottom or close. Many reported that Quantum Change was a process, a series of changes, like a "primary earthquake, followed by a series of aftershocks." Many Changers felt moved to acts of compassion and service to others. My experience paved the way for my adoption of an older Russian boy.

The final chapter, "Message to Humankind," sums up that Changers acknowledge there is a Truth in the experience, "sensing a great Whole of which all humans are a part" (Italics mine). A common theme in the aftermath of Quantum Change is humility, and a feeling of unworthiness of the experience. And immense gratitude. I must be a textbook example—I related to all "symptoms."

 Read the book, (and mine!) Consider your own spiritual journey. If you have experienced a Quantum Change, be it an epiphany or a sudden insight that sparked change, please leave me a message. Share your testimony. You are in excellent company!

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

The Good Life

I am not a big fan of war movies. I spend most of the time shielding my eyes from the gore and violence.

Saving Private Ryan is one of the few exceptions. Set during the Normandy invasion in World War II, Steven Spielberg's 1998 masterpiece chronicles the mission to find and remove from combat one Private James Francis Ryan (Matt Damon). Ryan's three brothers, all soldiers, have been killed in recent days in combat.  Captain John W. Miller (Tom Hanks) has the mission of locating Pvt. Ryan and returning him safely to his mother.  General George C. Marshall has issued the order himself, believing that three sons were more than  any mother should have to contribute to the war.

My favorite part was the end when the Allies stormed in for the surprise rescue, but unfortunately, too late to save Capt. Miller. As he lay dying, he struggles to leave Pvt. Ryan with one enduring directive, "James, earn this . . . Earn it."

"Earn this." Ryan's rescue came at a high cost. Of the eight soldiers commissioned to save him, only two returned relatively unscathed.

As Ryan kneels close to the dead captain, his face transitions to that of an old man visiting the Normandy American cemetery with his family, fifty years later. The elderly man kneels by his captain's grave. Ryan explains to Miller that he has tried to live a good life. He hopes he has. Unsatisfied, he turns to his family standing back. "Tell me I've led a good life . . . Tell me I'm a good man."

We instinctively understand why Ryan feels compelled to live a good life, as payment for the sacrifice of his captain and the others. But why is goodness the payment for the debt? Why not revenge, by killing all former Nazis?

While he was still an atheist, C.S. Lewis struggled with what he saw as a mystery, when confronted with what he called the "Law of  (Human) Nature" or the "Rule of Right and Wrong." He experienced an uncomfortable, nagging suspicion that he might be wrong about his belief in no god. He wrote in Mere Christianity that people seem to be appealing to a standard of behavior that all parties are aware of. "If we do not believe in decent behavior, why should we be so anxious to make excuses for not having behaved decently?" Where does this innate sense of decency or fairness come from? What is this standard?

I have recently joined an online "faith" forum where I can post my ideas along with others. I feel "called" to write. For God! No pressure!

I am amazed at the strong presence of atheists on these sites. They ask challenging, thought-provoking questions, present good arguments, provide videos expounding the wisdom of their gods, Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens, and mentor vulnerable converts. Their have their own religion! Certainly atheists can and do behave decently. As a matter of fact, there have been studies that conclude that they behave better than people of faith.  But the question remains—where does this innate sense of honor come from? Evolution? Survival of the fittest? More thoughts on that another day.

"Evidence" from atheists will not sway me, even though they claim my experience with God, my testimony, is, at best, an illusion, and at worst, a contrived, manipulative hoax. Will we ever find common ground? One day.

Chuck Colson, in his excellent book, The Good Life, which inspired this post, wrote that we are "irresistibly religious."  A French philosopher unknown to me stated that human life is characterized by a "divine restlessness" which puts us on a quest for the meaning of life, a command imprinted on our "unextinguished souls."

We are all on the perennial quest for the meaning of life, and our purpose in it. Ironically that search for meaning is often what gives our lives meaning. We are all searching for something, probably because we are born with knowledge of the Truth, and a desire to know it.

Pope John Paul II summed it up succinctly, " One may define the human being as the one who seeks the truth."

A worthy pursuit! 

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Refined by fire

(Roma has read and approved this message!)

My son just got his drivers license yesterday. Finally. I haven't been as eager as he, for I love the fine people of my community. I have been reluctant to put lives in danger by unleashing another teenage alpha male on the road! (If you know Roma, you are shaking your head with gratitude!)

Roma will be 19 soon. I postponed the inevitable as long as possible. Roma is my baby, and maybe I am a little overly protective of him. I need to let him go, even to make his own mistakes, but he has had a head start on practicing mistakes.

"Roma!" I am always saying (and always with an exclamation point!), "Learn from the mistakes of others! You cannot possibly live long enough to make them all yourself!" Big mistake on my part—so now he is doubling up, testing my assumption, accepting my dare!

I pray for his thoughts and actions, and his safety. I lay him down at the feet of God. I want him to linger there, for a nanosecond, or two, at least. But he keeps getting up and running off. Is it my job to keep dragging him back, thrashing in protest?

We adopted Roma eleven years ago from Russia. The story is documented in my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, published last fall. I wrote the book because I could not NOT write it—the book sort of wrote itself. This story is who I have become. It oozes out in my daily life, my conversations, and my on-going, pray-without-ceasing dialogues with God, which usually begin, "God, help me mother Roma." and sometimes include clinched-teeth bargaining with God, even wrestling with God.  (Hey, I am not the first!) My hope in sharing our story is so others will see God in the details of their lives, and be blessed. To recognize the miracles of God's grace is a blessing. To have eyes that have been opened to see the glory of God is a blessing. I hope my story gives hope to others who are wrestling with God about the plan He is revealing to them. God sees the big picture. We do not. God has mysteries that we cannot fathom with our little ant brains.

God doesn't want us to always be like ants. He wants to transform us. Often He refines us by fire. Not literal fire, but by trials, even suffering.  I do not mean to make it sound like raising Roma has been on par with some people's genuine suffering. The biggest trial in my life has not been raising Roma, but surrendering to Got when He revealed His plan for me of adoption when it was not my plan. Getting on board with God's plan was the challenge. And Roma has continued along that path, challenging me! Every day!

"Trials." Sure, trials bring with them many qualities like perseverance, character, and hope, but who signs up for trials?  We would rather be refined by a massage while meditating with a glass of wine. I guarantee more would be signing up for that! But as an old story goes, the process of purifying precious metals is complete only when the one doing the purifying can see his own image reflected in the metal. It is in the process that we are refined.

Is it easy? No! It was never meant to be easy. What do we learn from "easy"? I know I have learned a lot from "hard"!

Through the years, well-meaning friends have stopped just short of asking THE question. I have read it in their skepticism, in their careful comments. Only one person ever verbalized THE question—a middle school teacher who had previously taught my older, calmer children, and had her hands full with my charming, exuberant, bouncy Roma—"Do you ever regret adopting?"

Older adoptions are more complicated, when neglect has had time to complicate a young child's psyche. For a child to spend the first seven years of life in a setting we can not imagine, leaves an impression and an impact that have consequences.

But never for another nanosecond do I regret claiming the jackpot that is Roma. It would be like saying I wish I had never been born. Because of God's impact on my life through Roma, I have been born again. We thought we were saving a little boy from Russia, yet we were the ones who were saved!

Oh, there are moments (MANY) when Roma and I lock horns and my prayer is for Roma's protection from ME! But he is my son in every sense that matters. His love has changed me. For the better. I pray mine has done the same for him.

And as he drives away, I pray for his safety and decisions that come with his new freedom. I have to let him go.

Stop by Facebook, "like" to get updates, and scroll to the beginning, to see more photos of my delightful, exasperating boy! And if you live in the vicinity, keep your eyes peeled for a dark green, 2000 Chevy Impala. I would give you the tag number, but it will be moving too fast to read!

Has my life been blessed? Oh, yeah!

To continue with more "Roma Stories," go to The Hound Of Heaven Winks

Monday, July 1, 2013

HGTV NV

I do not watch much television. Days go by without me plopping in front of the "idiot box." "Idiot box" was coined in 1990 on MTV. I never thought I would agree with anything on  MTV!

I occasionally watch HGTV, also referred to as Home and Garden Television. Although I am not much into gardening, I enjoy do-it-yourself projects around my house. I am astonished watching dilapidated hovels transformed into relative mansions.

My own house is only seven years old, with the open concept that will need "updating" soon, in this age of fast, manipulated obsolescence. Picking appliance colors was tricky seven years ago, for sooner or later "stainless steel" will be the new "avocado." I chose "bisque," because I like "bisque." NO one on the show agrees with me. According to the experts, the new appliance color is "white ice," in other words, white. Everything old is new again.

HGTV has turned me into an amateur house designer, decorator, architect, and re-modeler. When I am in older homes of friends or relatives, I am constantly looking over their shoulder for the possible location of the support beams and ways to expand that kitchen. Can that wall come down? What if we open up that staircase on both sides. What was the homeowner thinking when selecting that fabric? Could live with this orange paint?

I am presently in the middle of a few home improvements of my own.  I tell myself that because I am an artist, I love "beauty," for the sake of beauty.  I have bought travertine tile for the back splash in my kitchen. I have a small kitchen in my lower level too, so, of course, that has to be tiled too.  And I will install it myself, naturally, with my newly-purchased wet saw. I have become discontent with my new, lovely home. And with what I have spent "updating," I could have funded a clean-water well in Africa! Maybe two.

I am experiencing house envy from HGTV.  I never thought I was materialistic, but I am quickly crossing that line.

I was humbled by a recent episode in which a young single mother had a $100,000 house budget. She was so glass-is-two-thirds-full enthusiastic with each disgusting shanty she toured–disgusting in my humble opinion, which, by the way, got humbler as the show progressed.  By the end of the show, I almost wept in rapture for the joy she was expressing for the opportunity for her first starter home. She literally looked more angelic and lovely as the show evolved. I remembered how I had adored our starter home, a little cape cod with rotted  window frames, no heat other than wood, and the back porch that was barely still fastened to the house. Ah, those were happy days!

A few months back I saw a different episode in which another single mother also had a $100,000 budget. I was as shocked as the Realtor when the buyer criticized every room. "I was hoping for granite counter tops . . .  hardwood floors , , , nice master suite . . . upgraded bath . . ." And, as you can guess, the young woman's face became more distorted with each bitter pronouncement of dissatisfaction. The show ended awkwardly, with no sale.

I am examining myself as to whose attitude of these two mothers mine mimics. As an adoptive mother (read But the Greatest of These is Love!) I often quote James 1:27, at least the first part: "Religion that God accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress," PERIOD. I don't  often want to drag my guilty self into the next part of that verse: "and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

I promise, publicly, after this last (expensive) piece of travertine is stuck to the wall, and grouted, and sealed, I am done upgrading myself out of dissatisfaction. I want an angelic face of gratitude! I have so much to be thankful for!

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication," was coined by another expert in beauty, Leonardo Divinci!

Be thankful in all things!

 


Friday, June 21, 2013

The Dark Matter of Love

Perhaps you have, in anticipation, lovingly prepared a nursery, peeked in from time to time, sometimes lingering to sit in a rocking chair, hugging a bear, and imagining . . .

I carried three babies to term, and one who didn't make it in the complicated gestational process. Although I was thankful for the healthy ones, it is devastating to lose a child for whom you have longed.

My forth child came to us through adoption. As soon as I saw his pictures, I was in love, again, and the "nesting" began anew. I obsessed about Roma, prayed for him, shared his photo with anyone nice enough to take a peek. This feisty seven-year-old was my boy. Now, if you experienced our adoption process, or read my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, you might be saying, "But Debbie, that is not how I remember it." True, at first I did  wrestle with God for planning my life without consulting with me, but even so, something happened when  I saw Roma's photos. If you have adopted, you probably understand this! I think the same thing happens when you see the new, detailed ultrasound photos of your baby.

We hosted Roma when he visited with a group of older Russian orphans for a week in November, 2001. As soon as he returned to Russia, I counted down the days until I could go retrieve him from half a world away. I stubbornly willed him to look often at the family photo album I filled of Roma's visit that fall. I wanted him to have hope. Someone loved him; he had a family.

Now I image that longing to reconnect playing out in 300 families who were scheduled to return to get their children in Russia when the adoption ban in January shattered their dreams.

It is devastating to lose a child for whom you have longed.

It is one thing to lose a child through miscarriage, and another, through forbidden access when grown, powerful men use vulnerable, orphaned, children of their own country as political pawns to avenge a perceived insult. Originally, the ban in December, 2012, was said to be in retaliation for restrictions against Russia for human rights violations. Now it is supposedly because Russian officials worry about the safety of their orphans after 20 children have died after being adopted by American families. Sixty-thousand Russian children have been adopted by Americans in the past two decades. The United States is the most common destination for adopted Russian children.

This morning, June 20, 2013, this article appeared in the Washington Post. One family's fight for one of the 300 is over because their chosen two-year-old girl with Downs Syndrome died in her orphanage. But the fight continues for many others.

As hopeless as the situation seems to most, there are some people who cannot sit by and wait. Sarah McCarthy, a British filmmaker has inspired a petition to congress insisting the President Obama negotiate with Putin about the ban. Her recent video was not originally intended to highlight the plight of the 300 families left in limbo, but  it might become a vehicle to do just that. The Dark Matter of Love began before the ban took effect and does not mention the ban. The video instead looks at human development and the critical need for love and bonding, and the challenges of adoption due to the lack of love. But a project of this magnitude, and hopeful consequences, takes time and money. Russians will be able to see the film June 25 for the first time at the Moscow International Film Festival. In the spotlight of the Russian press, American families fighting to bring their children home will be able to appeal directly to the Russian officials involved in the ban.  McCarthy is trying to raise money to take the film across all of Russia and the U.S. to raise awareness. Here is McCarthy's recent update on the progress of the video.

Please consider donating to the Kickstarter campaign during the next two weeks only. God is in the business of adopting. If you have been affected by adoption, please donate to this cause. And as a matter of fact, we have ALL been effected by adoption.

Ephesians 1:5 tells us "God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. That is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure." NLT

Is it not our duty to do the same for the least of these? 

9/10/2013 Update! The documentary was funded and is now available. See the trailer and learn more here.

9/19/2013 update! I received a complimentary copy of the DVD  and watched all 90 minutes in one sitting. I would recommend this documentary to anyone who has adopted a child, considered adopting a child, or just interested in the effects of love, having it taken away, and having it restored. The Dark Matter of Love is not a story told through rose-colored glasses, yet there is HOPE!

Monday, June 17, 2013

Face to Facebook

I joined Facebook last fall for the sole purpose of promoting my new book, But the Greatest of These is Love. I had resisted earlier suggestions to join because I know myself well enough to know that I might spend too much time checking out the lives of my friends, acquaintances, friends of friends, etc. I have indeed had fun connecting with friends and reconnecting with friends who I last knew when we were literally kids.

At first I  timidly garnered enough courage to "like" someone's status. Then I inched out into new territory and posted a comment on someone's status. Still, I was tentative, posting, then immediately deleting, then posting same post again. Who cares what I think?, I would ask myself.  But I am over that now! Nobody cares what I think, but it doesn't matter!  That is not part of the rules. We just care about those little red numbers tallying our "likes" and comments.indicating that we are special.

And it isn't just Facebook. It is Twitter, online video games, instagram, constant texting, even when it seems rude. Technology! The savior and downfall of civilization. Finding and dissemination information has never been easier. I have discovered that I love to research, now that the capability is at my fingertips! The capacity for quick information may often be helpful," but as Einstein said, "information is not knowledge."

I've had to learn a whole new language with all initials, "new speak" I call it, reminiscent of George Orwell's 1984, where the totalitarian state reduced language to simplistic terms to limit free thought. (Watch for that blog that is ruminating as I write this one.) I had to learn "lol" did not mean "lots of love" as I was tempted to post to convey my compassion, when "laugh out loud" would have been grossly insensitive! There are several other letter combinations I haven't figured out, so I dare not use them!


I am over my early trepidation, and now I am confidently posting all the time, "all" being the operative word here. I am becoming a Facebook junkie. Now when I post something, I am eagerly awaiting someone to "like" or comment on my status. I have to step back. Sometimes after an out-of-control session lasting too long, I feel icky. Hours of my life gone for nothing. Has anyone else experienced this? I had to turn the "chat" feature off—I envisioned all the names scrolling down,  people liking, and becoming friends with, and commenting, sitting in front of the new idiot box in an alternate universe, along with me, instead of talking face to face with a flesh-and-blood friend. How alien this concept would have been only a decade ago, except to Rod Serling/Twilight Zone aficionados.

The Twilight Zone, young ones, was a science-fiction (or, in "new speak," Sci-Fi) television show that
aired on CBS from 1959-1964. Its paranormal, futuristic, and disturbing events inspired a few reoccurring nightmares during my lifetime. It always opened with the creator, Rod Serling cryptically inviting, "Imagine if you will . . ."

"Imagine if you will . . . one humanoid posts a "status update" on his hand-held device, the other, often sitting beside the other, comments on said status update by typing on his own hand-held device. No audible words are spoken between the two . . ."

In all of our "connectedness," we have isolated ourselves. So here we sit, face to Facebook. Welcome to the Twilight Zone.


Thursday, June 13, 2013

Unpopular Christian virtues

The last time I mentioned sex in a post was when I compared my book, But the Greatest of These is Love, to the best seller, Fifty Shades of Gray. The two books share quite a few similarities, except maybe the "best seller" part . . . and, the sexual content. I've never read Fifty Shades of Gray, so there might be a few other differences. If you missed Fifty Shades of Red, go back and read it.

In the last couple of weeks, I have witnessed dramatic examples illustrating why illicit, forbidden, casual, uncommitted, recreational sex is not a great idea, regardless of what at least one participant was thinking at the time. Rarely does either party say, "this one act could adversely alter the course of my life, it might cause me to go to jail, lose my job, devastate my family, lose the trust of my spouse, BUT, it is going to be SO worth it!" No sex is that good. Some may disagree. 

At the risk of sounding like a prude, I will continue. My 18 year-old-son reminds me daily that we live in the 21st Century and none of this pertains to modern times. But I am curious why the obsessive distraction, often to our ruin, about the mysterious enigma of sex. 

We live in a culture where we are led to believe that sexual freedom is a birthright. Why else would people in authority insist that girls of any age have access to the "morning after" pill without parental consent, when that same child would be denied an aspirin at school without her parent's permission. The age of  consent in the U.S. is 16 in most states. In some countries it is as young as 12. To view "Mature" rated movies, one must be 17.  By that time, the horse is usually out of the barn, so to speak! 

 A hundred years ago, coming out of the long Victorian Era,  Sigmund Freud was concluding and teaching that sexual repression was the major psychological problem of mankind, and the indirect cause of much of Western society's woes, illnesses, and crime. Those Victorians were to blame, for being a prudish and uptight bunch!

The Victorian era, the reign of Queen Victoria (1837-1901), is considered by historians to be a period of peace and prosperity, refined sensibilities, and national confidence in Britain. (I consider it a period of beautiful architecture and furniture, since that is about all that remains from that period!) A recent Discovery.com article suggested that people from the Victorian era, which was marked by "an explosion of innovation and genius," had higher I.Q.s than people today. Interesting. So, are we getting dumber? (one mind-numbing episode of most prime-time TV should provide evidence!)

"Chastity is the most unpopular of the Christian virtues," writes C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity. Mere Christianity was adapted from a series of radio talks on the BBC during World War II, much like Roosevelt's Fireside Chats in this country, meant to sooth an anxious populace. 

Today, Christians' chastity, or lack of, virtually mirrors that of the world's, even though Christians are called to sexual purity. Even Saint Augustine, fourth century church father confessed that, as a young man, he prayed constantly for chastity, but while his lips were saying "Lord make me chaste," his heart was adding, "but please don't do it just yet."

I am remembering the messes in our families, communities, and government that promiscuity has caused that sexual purity, or self-control, chastity, temperance–words we don't often use anymore–would have prevented. Gone are the days when we hold self control and delayed gratification, or "refinement" of any kind to a high ideal. We have now achieved Freud's goal, complete sexual freedom. We now have cozy terms like "friends with benefits" describing mutually satisfying sexual relationships that don't involve, well, relationship. We seem to be devolving. 

Today we are free of sexual repression, and for that matter most "repression," in any area of life. Has that reversal improved our race? We have one of the highest teen pregnancy rate in the western, industrialized world, pedophilia, abortion as birth control, high divorce rate, children growing up without fathers, orphans, a growing prison population, rampant STDs, high suicide rates, high numbers medicated for depression. We teach the young people in health class to "wait until they are ready for sex." Ask most teens who think they are in love (which is often, with many) if they are ready. They are ready!


C.S Lewis opined, "the sexual appetite, like our other appetites, grows by indulgence . . . Perversions of the food appetite are rare. But perversions of the sex instinct are numerous, hard to cure, and frightful." 

I wonder what Freud would think today if he studied the cause of society's woes, illnesses, and crime. It certainly isn't repressed sexuality!

"Virtue," (another word we rarely use anymore) "–even attempted virtue–brings light; indulgence brings fog."  C.S. Lewis