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“Why art thou cast down, O my soul?  and why art thou  disquieted within me?  hope in God:  for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.”    Psalm 43:5

In the verse above, the word ‘disquieted’ means to be anxious, uneasy, restless or dissatisfied.

The difficult part of being a Christian is that a soul in distress can be as much a sign of something wrong as it is a sign of something right.  Doing work every day that is not in line with your personal values is hard.  Working for someone who operates with a different theoretical and theological perspective is both frustrating  and discouraging.  I cry a lot.   Do I believe this was the right place at the right time?  Absolutely.  I’ve learned  a lot of things that will help me in the future;  very practical things.  I’ve worked with some amazing people and made good- very good- new friends.  My clients break my heart and make me laugh, sometimes in the same sentence.  They are precious, precious people, to me and to their Father God.  (Even if they don’t yet know Him as Father.)

I read somewhere this week that we do discipleship backwards.  That in the early days of the church, discipleship was a process whereby people came to believe.  That through the method of asking, and being answered, and taught, and searching, revelation and knowledge were revealed.  Today we have drive-through salvation.  (And probably why we have a lot of recovery groups.)  In my early days in my present church, I was listening to a Pastoral Counselor during the week, and the Pastor during the weekend service.  It was quickly evident that the two were not at all congruent most of the time.  And even more evident was the fact that the teaching during services was more helpful, and much healthier than  the expensive archeological digs.  There was more fruit.  Which is why it is so difficult to tell in the moment if we are doing the right thing.  Fruit takes time to develop. The fine art of counseling, like true discipleship, lies in making it possible for hidden things to surface and come to light.

The word health in the verse above is the Hebrew word yeshuah, which means salvation, or safety.  This verse is repeated twice, once in Psalm 42  (verse 11) and again in Psalm 43.  In his distress, David asks himself the same question twice, and twice he comes to the same conclusion.    This is congruence.  This is the kind of soul-searching questioning that produces the rich soil required for growing fruit.  Pastoral counseling should be the kind that prepares us for growth.  It should be a form of discipleship;  if it were, the soil would be prepared during the counseling session, and the seed would be sown during the teaching.   The fruit would be evident;  in clinical terms, we wouldn’t relapse as often.  We would not only grow, we would reproduce.  In counseling, this is what those in the clinical fields would call ‘evidence-based’ treatment:  there would be evidence that the process is working.  Without evidence, or fruit,  there is no testimony.  We as Christians, as representatives of Christ, cannot overcome with out two things; one of which is the word of our testimony.  “This is how I used to think;  this is how I think now.”  “This is how I used to act, but this is how I act now.”  “That is something I would have said or done in the past;  now I know better.”  This is fruit.

Michael Scanlon writes in his book Inner Healing  “Frequently, people have others pray for them, asking for tranquility, calmness, stability, understanding, tolerance, joy, freedom from anxiety, resentments, or guilt  but nothing appears to happen.”  (Ever stood in one of those prayer lines?)  He continues:  “People are naturally inclined to seek after such desirable goods the way they would academic degrees, business success, or physical development with the additional point that they seek through God rather than through other [people].  This is not the way to inner healing by the Lord.”

I feel better now.  Have a Blessed and productive weekend, people.

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A couple of  months ago, a young man fresh from Bible College was testing his wings by doing the Sunday morning message at church, and he kept making the statement  that before you can serve, you have to be healed.  Anyone who has ever recovered from any type of trauma knows that there is a point in healing that requires action.  Like physical therapy for the soul.

Someone asked me recently if I’m healed. Tough question to answer;  it’s not a closed-done-with-all-that–once-and-for-all-process.  People usually think we’re healed if we’re up and walking.  We know better.  I have days that are better than others.  I’m closer to God because of the hurt than I ever was without it.  Not that I ever want to go through it again, but realistically, this is life.  From the moment our feet hit the floor in the morning, we have absolutely no idea what that day holds.  We think we’re healed, but one phone call or careless comment can rip the scab off a wound faster than we thought possible.

So, am I healed?  Of course not, not completely. I believe I’m in a healing process, but that’s what healing is: growth of new cells, new tissue, renewed strength.  Maybe that’s why the person sort of irked me;  he’s  young, zealous, and life hasn’t hit him square in the face yet.  Healing is a process; it happens over time, and in layers, like the growth rings on a tree.  Those rings come with time and age, and the more there are, the stronger the tree is. God can heal instantly and miraculously, but quick healings don’t result in instant maturity and character growth.  God does want us to prosper, and He does want us happy, but sometimes He defines that differently than we do, especially because our definition of happiness and health does not usually include a spiritual perspective.

Dualism reigns in our culture, in the classroom and at the altar.  Much of what we do in church is more Cultural than Biblical, from the way we make ‘leaders’ to the way we do membership.  All of the things that happen between the car and the sanctuary: the ushering, the greeting, the ropes closing people out, the locking of doors, and the use of technology, are culture.  I’m not saying they’re not sometimes necessary or beneficial, but let’s be clear: “Decently and in order” is a Biblical mandate;  “Law before Love” is not.  Maybe what needs to be emphasized is the ‘decently’ part.  Maybe people would heal faster.  We love the ‘in order’ part because our inner lives are a mess, and when we can’t control our feelings, we control our counter tops.  Or people.

Okay.  My daughter is out of the shower, my coffee cup is empty, and it’s time to do Saturday.  God help me.  Have a blessed and wise day, people.

A soul-tie is a memory keeper.  It’s an object that brings to mind a memory of a person, place, or event.  It can also be a sight, or sound that resurrects, or evokes, that part of our soul that holds our past, and everything along our journey that has woven us together into who we are today.

Years ago, when I first heard the term ‘soul-tie’ it was used by a friend who wanted her boyfriend to get rid of everything he owned that was a reminder of a past relationship.  While this is a good idea (especially for boyfriends who value their lives) what soon becomes evident is the fact that the memory is still there.  And getting rid of an object doesn’t get rid of a memory of a person, or a place.  Or, for that matter, of an event, however good, bad, or traumatic.

Memory is embedded in the very base of our brain;  fragments of it float up through our dreams and frequently invade our consciousness.  No amount of therapy, however skilled the counselor is, can make it go away.

Is it important to get rid of old objects, pictures, or anything that is a constant reminder of a bad place in our journey?  Sure it is.  As long as we don’t think that just by throwing things away, we have completely ‘cleaned house’.  Anyone who has ever grieved a loss, whether by death, divorce, or rejection, knows that getting rid of an object doesn’t erase a memory.  And therein lies the problem- the memory alone quite often is the soul-tie.  It’s that space between you-and-me, and who-am-I-now-without-you.  It is the essence of a relationship we have, or had with a person or place.  It’s what and who we relate to.  And, for that matter, how we relate.  This is the underlying idea behind Attachment Theory, and Attachment Disorders.  (Meaning that the way some people attach to people, places, and things is disordered, random, or extreme.)

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Not all soul-ties are bad.  Memory books, journals, scrapbook albums, and photos represent the people, places and things that we have loved and/or lost.  An entire industry is built on soul-ties;  our investment in our relationships is reflected in our investment in paper goods.  Attachment theory is obviously more than just a theory!  It verifies what we already know- how healthy we are is both determined by, and reflected in our relationships.  Not only with other people, but with God.  And that is where the healing of memories takes place- in our relationship with God.  Once we ‘clean house’ so to speak, that empty space makes room for healthy attachments, first to God, and ourselves, and then outward to those around us.  As we come to know the love of God for us as individuals, and became stable and steady through knowledge of the Word of God, which renews our minds, we see that growth in our attachments to people, places and things.  We get a healthy sense of what to keep, and what to let go of.  We just know.  The more we let go of, the easier it is to breathe.   As one of my clients said last week “I just feel lighter.”  Whole rooms open up, not only in our homes, but in our souls.  Our agenda changes.  Our schedule has margin in it.  There is time not just for people, but to record and chronicle new memories.  “And God saw that it was good.”  –Genesis 1

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“Christian leaders cannot simply be persons who have well-informed opinions about the burning issues of our time.  Their leadership must be rooted in the permanent, intimate relationship with the incarnate Word, Jesus, and they need to find there the source for their words, advice and guidance….Dealing with burning issues easily leads to divisiveness because, before we know it, our sense of self is caught up in our opinion about a given subject.  But when we are securely rooted in personal intimacy with the source of life, it will be possible to remain flexible but not relativistic, convinced without being rigid, willing to confront without being offensive, gentle, and forgiving without being soft, and true witnesses without being manipulative.”  -Henri Nouwen