by Vyckie

It’s been a while since I’ve written an update on my family.  The younger kids have been gone to camp and visitation with Warren ~ so I’ve been trying to relax and de-stress this summer ~ although that hasn’t quite worked out like I planned.

At least once a week, my counselor, Deb, and I have been working on my Post Traumatic Stress Disorder using EMDR which is something I did not want to try when my kids were home ~ just in case I turned into a psycho lady from processing past trauma.

The first step in processing was to identify my primary negative cognition ~ which, we figured out is: I can’t win.  When Deb asked me, on a scale of 0 to 10 how strongly I feel/believe that I can’t win, I responded, “It’s at least an 11.” 

“And worse than that,” I told her, “is I keep trying ~ even knowing that I’m doomed before I even start ~ it’s total insanity!” 

So we’ve been working on that …

I’ve also spent much of my time over at John’s house with him reading to me in his deep, soothing voice ~ he read, American Gods by Neil Gaiman in which a whole big ugly war ~ between the old tribal gods and the new gods of technology, media, celebrity, etc. ~ was nothing more than a two-man con instigated by the All-Father and a Norse god who both thrive on blood and contention.  The protagonist put an end to it by explaining the game to the other gods who then quit fighting each other and went back to their regular business of getting people to believe, follow, sacrifice, etc.  

We also read Anything Can Happen by George Papashvily ~ John did the broken-English accent so well that I felt like I was actually listening to the old Georgian immigrant himself telling me all his adventures of coming to America ~ very cool.

For all my efforts to avoid conflict and drama this summer, it seems there’s always something ~ and the current “something” involves deplorable behavior on the part of presumably intelligent, Christian adults ~ some of whom I have considered my friends ~ which, honestly has me disconcerted and heartsick enough to think, “Why bother?”

Which to me is too scary of a question to ask since I know that I do not have any really good answer for it these days ~ so my “I can’t win” cognition is pushed up to a 12 or 13 on that 0 – 10 scale.

My Uncle Ron recently emailed me an article, “Why Am I Here? Our Struggle For Meaning, In The World And Church” by Robert Jensen. 

In his discourse, Jensen, who is not a theist, asks the question, “When the Christian world sometimes seems split about evenly between intolerant fundamentalists and ineffectual liberals, why should we struggle for a Christianity that is truly radical in theology, ethics, and politics, in principle and in practice?”

In response to his own question, Jensen tells about Abe Osheroff, “a radical [secular] activist who spent his 92 years struggling to contribute to a better world.”

(Watch the video ~ otherwise what follows won’t make much sense ~ sorry, Mimi!)

After watching this little clip, I wrote back to Ron:

Thanks for sharing this sermon with me.  It was actually inspiring until I watched the trailer for the documentary about Abe Osheroff ~ and that took me right back to all my old Christian apologetic arguments, esp. ~ how can we have an ethical obligation to ”fight the good fight” if there is no God? ~ and since Abe says the good fight is already lost anyway ~ then it really is counterintuitive to continue to struggle. 

I keep thinking that, taking the idea of “survival of the fittest” from evolution ~ if by our fighting and struggling and resisting, we are actually strengthening the enemy that’s going to consume us, why not just passively allow ourselves to be overcome so that we’re merely food (and if we live a soft, frivolous, indulgent life ~ we might not even be nourishing food) without also being exercise and a challenge to make the enemy stronger and more ferocious?
 
Not that such philosophizing actually stops me from resisting [I'm not] allowing myself to be overcome ~ it is rather tempting though since I am quite tired of the struggles …

Whenever life gets all crazy and unmanageable ~ I set to work cleaning my house, since clutter is something I know I can get a grip on and when my house is all in order, I believe that I can think straight and not be quite so stressed out.  So ~ that’s what I’ve done.  The yard, which had been neglected all summer ~ is now beautiful ~ all weeded and mowed and trimmed.  

Although I hired a kid from the Salvation Army youth group to do most of the yard work, Heather and her husband also came over to help out.

As we were pulling up weeds ~ some of which were as tall as I am, Heather was coming up with all sorts of sermon illustrations. I think my weed mess was bad enough to provide a month’s worth of sermon material ~ LOL

When we got to the roses, one of the neighbor kids was giving Heather detailed instructions about how to properly prune the bushes. He sounded like a gardening expert, and his mother explained that he learned about pruning from a recent sermon illustration at their church.

Ugh ~ that was triggering to me. I tried to not let it get to me ~ but couldn’t help stating that the idea that God has to continually whack us down ’til we appear almost dead ~ and we should accept this “pruning” gratefully with the promise that this will cause us to flourish and become even more productive and more beautiful in the future ~ really, really sucks.

Personally, I’m sick and tired of the pruning. I’m not feeling grateful. I’m feeling cut down and chopped up. Even though I don’t actually believe in God ~ I do wish He’d leave me to just grow wild and scraggly and if my soul is in danger of growing weak and unhealthy from lack of proper pruning ~ then so be it ~ just leave it alone and let it go.

So here’s the crazy part: despite my anger, frustration and discouragement ~ I transplanted a volunteer maple tree over on the south side of the house where we really could use some shade ~ which made me feel so hopeful ~ like the young couple that just moved in next door and planted a new tree in their front yard.  

As I watched them planting that tree ~ with their little baby playing nearby ~ my heart felt stung by their happy expectation of good things for the future.

Truthfully, such optimism baffles me ~ so I was especially surprised (even a little annoyed) to find it there in my own head as I’ve been carrying a pitcher of water outside every day to water the young maple.  The tree seems to be taking root.  I can actually imagine my family someday sitting in its shade and gazing up with delighted facsination as hundreds of helicopter seeds gracefully drop from the branches and whirl to the ground …
 
Inside, Chassé and I have been doing the “kiddie shuffle” in which everyone gets moved to a new bedroom and all their stuff gets sorted, tossed out, donated, and whatever’s left over is organized.  Berea got her own apartment, Andrew gets Berea’s room, Chassé gets Andrew’s, Lydia gets Chasse’s ~ Hazelle and Wesley stay put, but we did get their rooms looking pretty good too.
 
Hazelle came home from her dad’s early and has been helping out when she’s not catching up with her friends whom she hasn’t seen all summer.  Andrew and Lydia are home now too ~ they’re both thrilled with their new bedrooms and so far, they are keeping their stuff neat and tidy.

Wesley will be home tomorrow.  Recently, I was talking to him on the phone and he told me, “When I get home, as soon as I see you, I’m going to hug you REALLY BIGLY!!!” 

LOL ~ can’t wait! I’ve missed all my little ones ♥ ♥

And now Chassé is off to camp in Wisconsin.  Yesterday morning I was awakened by her text message, “I love you so much” ~ and a little later, again ~ “I love you, Mom!” 

Many huge yawns and a cup of coffee later, I texted back, “I love you too.  Are you having fun?” 

No ~ it turns out that she’s not having fun since learning that her friend’s mother just died in a car accident.  “Please don’t go dying on me, okay?  I love you very much.”

I’ve said it before ~ I still agree that children are a blessing.  This is one way my children bless me: they make it really hard to get very depressed and absolutely impossible to give up and simply allow myself to be overcome by that which seeks to devour me. 

So here I am ~ still fighting the good fight long after I’d have expected to run out of steam sans the power of the Holy Spirit and the motivation of The True Truth to keep me going.

Currently, my “I can’t win” cognition is completely off the scale ~ but thanks to my kids, there’s an overriding defiance ~ that feeling of camaraderie with Mr. Osheroff’s  Freedom Train passengers who, when the train runs into a big mountain, ”they get out and push that fucking train till it gets up to the top of the hill, then they get back in and continue with the ride” ~ it’s a ride for human freedom which has no final stop.

Discuss this post on the NLQ forum.

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NLQ recommended reading:

‘Quivering Daughters‘ by Hillary McFarland
 
‘Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement‘ by Kathryn Joyce