Surviving Trauma; Transforming Pain and Suffering

We have survived somehow. Through all of the trials and tribulations, pain and suffering, we have come out on the other side. Often bruised, damaged, and somewhat worse for the wear, we have overcome adversity to meet the challenges of today. It hasn't all been a bed of thorns of course. There has been plenty of sun drenched days and ample amounts of joy. But the one who survives trauma carries a certain amount of death into even the best of times.

“If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.”

— Richard Rohr, Christian mystic

Our survivor brains have adapted to deal with the worst. This presents us with a dilemma. We can either endure what has happened by continuing to protect and defend ourselves against an unknowable future, or we can choose to transform our pain and emerge as a new and improved version of ourselves.

Richard Rohr, the Christian mystic, tells us, "If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it." There is no doubt that he is right. My decades of work with wounded people affirms this truth. For example, without exception, every boy who was referred to me as a sexual perpetrator had been molested repeatedly as a younger child. Their sexual assaults replicated the young offender's own exploitation.

Power exerted over them created a survival response of seeking control by victimizing weaker children. This pattern or trait is not limited to any specific trauma. If left unattended, the suffering experienced and survived will later influence our behavior in ways that often inflict even greater anguish to others.

All of the negativity we witness has roots in piles and piles of disappointments, unrealized dreams and hopes, tragic losses, betrayals, and all forms of woundedness. Bitterness and blaming is heaped on the shoulders of innocent bystanders, our friends, family and children of the next generation. But each of us has the power to stop transmitting our pain by transforming it.

We can refuse the tendency of our ego to hurt others by offering the wounds we have received and our survival of them as rays of hope for all those who suffer similar experiences.

We can offer hands of healing instead of building protective walls. We will in turn find ourselves transformed and born anew.

Life can be wonderful when we make it so.

Becoming Authentic; Doing the Inside Job

When I think about an inside job, the initial images that come to mind are of a dishonest key employee who arranges for theft of assets from the company. The bank teller assists a heist by giving away vault combinations and then shares in the clandestine loot. It is marked by betrayal of confidence. But there is another kind of inside job. It comes with a rude awakening that our character flaws, excesses, shortcomings, and barriers we have built to insulate us from pain are keeping us from experiencing the wholeness of life. We recognize that incessant efforts to shape and control external events have mostly just resulted in tire spinning. And there we are, looking like Pogo Possum who says; "We have met the enemy, and he is us".

Perhaps the inside job of employee betrayal may not be so different from the inside job which robs us of authenticity after all. For it is the false self (ego), insecure and driven for comfort that tells us to avoid anything which threatens our status quo. The genuine, real person dwelling within yearns for connectedness and mutuality but is stifled by external clamor to be important, separate, self sufficient, and superior. And so we continue to betray ourselves and steal away the treasure of love given freely by God.

Years ago, crushed by the weight of my own grief and misadventures, I leaned heavily on the wisdom of my mentor, Lyle A. He was a crusty old curmudgeon who believed strongly that the 12 Steps of AA provided the best model for healing, recovery and living life on life's terms. I was working hard to rebuild my finances, reputation, and credibility with limited success and went to Lyle for direction. He heard about enough of my whining, blaming and excuses when he told me to forget the whole thing and to go bury myself in a bottle of bourbon. He said that I had missed the whole point. Happiness, joy, fulfillment and healing were an inside job. Until I could figure out a way to do some major interior remodeling, the exterior would continue to fall apart. I was relying on my own resilience while Edging-God-Out. Lyle was right of course. It took a long time and more bruises and missteps, but eventually it did the work and I let God take control.

Yogi Berra once quipped that 'it gets late early out there'. And it does. The time for working on the inside job is now. Though I always heartily recommend the 12 Steps for Everyone, and good resources like Breathing Under Water by Richard Rohr, whatever path you take must bring you to your silent center where that wee small voice can be heard calling you The Beloved. It is the only way to wholeness and healing.

Freedom Against The Wind; Sailing to Joy and Happiness

The new day has dawned.

Now comes the challenge of deciding what can be done with it. How we will spend today is largely up to us. Sure, there are those who will direct our activities. We have obligations to fulfill. People depend on us to one degree or another and we are accountable. However the goal is not to acquiesce to demands or to please others. The goal is joy and happiness. This might sound a bit self-serving or hedonistic, but it is not. Far from it. All spiritual teachings point us in that direction.

“Only that day dawns to which we are awake.”

— Henry David Thoreau

So this new day calls for sorting out the inconsequential in order to live more fully toward joy and happiness. Finding the new freedom promised in that endeavor will sometimes feel like fighting against the wind. But ultimately, the same wind will fill our sails and take us to the place we have been seeking all along.

Chris, a lifelong friend of mine sent me an email recently which provided a link to an article called "Claim Freedom" by teacher Evan Mehlenbacher. It was really quite good, and I ended up subscribing to his blog. What caught me a bit off guard though was a comment Chris made about his take on my life's mission. He said that he had been 'thinking of me and my work freeing people'. Over the course of most of the past five decades, I have worked with folks who suffered childhood abuse, trauma, and addictions. The headwinds they faced were sometimes CAT 5 in strength.

At times, I veered away seeking other professions for a break, but always came back to see if I could at least help pack some sandbags. I never considered my work being about freeing people. But I guess that's exactly what I have been called to do. And in the final analysis, it is what each of us must do if we are to reach the goal of joy and happiness.

Richard Rohr has defined the role of freedom as conjoining compassion and mercy. I think this statement is true. For when we have been blessed with freedom, joy, and happiness we have an obligation to give it away to others. It cannot be contained. The only way I know how to extend such freedom, joy and happiness to others is through my shared brokenness and vulnerability. This can only result in subsequent compassion and mercy. We no longer have room for measuring and judgment. Then the new day dawns on a sea of mutuality and interconnectedness and there will always be fair winds following.

Labor Day Reminiscence; Sweet Memories of Home

The ceremonial Last Day of Summer is here again. Our long Labor Day weekend comes with a flourish as fairs, carnivals and festivals offer a wide variety of music, whimsical entertainment and every imaginable kind of tempting, mouthwatering (and usually unhealthy) treat. Who can resist a deep fried Oreo? Backyard grills are firing up and kids are taking their last dips in pools that will close for the season on Tuesday.

Some of my favorite memories of Labor Day take me back to my childhood in Danville, Illinois. Despite the looming spectre of school starting after the weekend, concerns were muted in part because of the National Sweet Corn Festival which would be in full swing a few miles away in Hoopeston. We could perch at our cousin Martha and Tom Merritt’s house, wander on downtown and fill ourselves with succulent, Supersweet bliss. To those who might chuckle at my glee, you just haven't had corn on the cob until you eat a few dozen ears of Illinois gold. The process of creating culinary perfection involves an antique steam engine and somewhere around 50 tons of sweet corn buttered and salted on conveyor belts delivered for free to ravenous foodies of all kinds. This has been going on since 1938 and shows no sign of demise. There are lots of other activities like carnival rides, a midway, live music, bingo, car shows and lots of beer for grown ups. But nothing makes my mouth water and heart long for home like the good old Sweet Corn Festival.

The days of picnics in the park with speeches by union leaders have gone by the wayside and the labor movement seems to have lost its umph. Jerry Lewis isn't around to entertain-a-thon us any more with various labor organizations raising money for MDA. There is still a glimmer of respect paid to workers at the Labor Day Concert in Washington, DC with fireworks and the National Symphony Orchestra. But so it goes with many of our holidays. We often lose the original intent in favor of our celebration. Perhaps that would be a really good topic for another column. Be that as it may let the good times roll this weekend. Eat a bunch of sweet corn.

Winning and Losing; A Model of Cooperation

Everybody doesn't win. Though motivational speakers might try to convince us that we are all winners, it just can't be reconciled with reality. Two or three decades ago, well-meaning parents and coaches began handing out medals and trophies to every youngster who participated in athletic games which so clearly had winning and losing sides. Their altruistic desire didn't really work out, mainly because it was the grown-ups who placed greatest significance on awards, not the children. For kids, the goal of winning is not to make losers of their opponents. Winning, and the awards received at the end of a tournament are a mark of achievement through hard work, training, and dedication. It is the strict dualistic thinking of adults that labels losing as a failure. The "everybody-is-a-winner" practice is simply overprotective and unnecessary.

Each August, my wife and I anticipate the Little League World Series which exemplifies competition at its' very best. This contest is a perfect example of how we might restructure our attitudes about winners and losers. And the young players are our teachers. Members from opposing teams hug each other, congratulate each other, and console each other. They celebrate as a community showing us that victory has many facets, only one of which is winning the contest. I can't imagine any player leaving Williamsport feeling like a "loser". In fact, the 2019 Little League World Champions, Louisiana’s East Bank All Stars, emerged from the so-called losers bracket to take the title.

In the larger grown-up arena, when our political leaders, or others, apply a ‘loser’ label to an individual group, it is an attempt to project weakness and failure upon them. Any sense of community is destroyed. They are sending a message that the highest purpose in life is to win at any cost. This fiercely divisive drive for superiority wipes out the possibility of cooperation. Intolerance of inferiors festers into an us-versus-them culture. And us-versus-them is not only a failure of imagination but the worst kind of lie. We are all in this struggle together. In the end it's still all about how we cooperate and play the game. Perhaps New Jersey Little League manager Jairo Labrador demonstrated the joy of connection found in simply playing together....win or lose. After his team was eliminated, he gathering his boys around him saying; "For the rest of my life, I'm proud that you guys get to call me coach." Now there is a life lesson if I ever heard one.

Elderhood; An (Almost) Full Embrace of Aging

Getting old. It sneaks up in the mirror revealing itself like adolescent acne of decades gone by. Misplaced little hairs, wrinkles and weird brown spots are suddenly reflected as an unfamiliar image stares back. A professional colleague of mine, Don Kuhl founder of The Change Companies, writes about Aging three times a week. After being greeted by the scary old man in the mirror, I went back to his blog for some perspective and humor. Then I posted a little photojournal on some of my FB groups which dealt with the inner grace and elegance that can reveal themselves as we age. Like a defiant Gray Panther, I raise a fist in solidarity with my sister and brother Baby Boomers.

I don't necessarily like the idea of being a senior citizen so I'm adopting the term elderhood to take its place. Childhood was fun, and elderhood seems to open up some promising possibilities. One pleasant discovery has been that time, so recently constricted to tight schedules, business demands, and accountability, is no longer such a critical measure. Instead of a day being broken down into minutes and hours of events and destinations, it reverts back into being a cumulative experience.

When I was a boy, and the adults would ask what all we had been doing on a long summer day. I remember responding with a muttered "Just goofing around". How could the adventures of baseball, finding tadpoles in the pond, building forts in the woods, fighting off savage invaders, and skinny dipping in the lake be conveyed to parents who thought we should be doing something productive? It's like that in elderhood too. Now its our grown children asking somewhat suspiciously what we did with ourselves all day. There is no way they could understand the joy of sleeping in late, savoring a hot cup of coffee like it was fine wine, sharing breakfast in bed, watching neighbors from the porch, napping during a Cubs game, and talking about dreams or days-gone-by as being valuably spent hours.

My wife, twelve year old dog Wrigley, and I get it. Even with the aches and pains, bottles of medication, and visions of strangers in the looking glass, we (almost) fully embrace the whole elderhood thing. Our hard won wisdom may be discounted by younger ones who should be seeking it. But we accept this with the firm understanding that someday in the not too distant future...they will get it too.

Making Amends; The Joy of Reconciliation

Amends making, though often difficult, is a great equalizer and healer. The harm done by our words and actions can leave hurt feelings and deep wounds. If left unattended, they can destroy relationships. But when we are able to own our mistakes and take responsibility for damage done, we will experience the joy of reconciliation.

The familiar promise "first, do no harm" is attributed to the Hippocratic Oath which some doctors pledge in medical school. It isn't universally made by the way, and practically impossible to fulfill. How could any person live up to such a creed. We are human and fallible. At a time when other organizations seem to be adopting 'do no harm', we might want to step back and take a closer look at what that phrase might entail. If I was to create comic book characters for the no harm doctrine they would be Expectation Man and Assumption Woman. Their super power would be perfection in all things. Since we are not perfect, it's a sure thing that we will do some harm, inflict pain, and blunder from time to time. The difference between a brute who leaves life strewn with wreckage and a person of conscience who cleans up mistakes is the real-life super power of making amends.

There are plenty of mistakes, wounds and regrets that reside in the fog of yesterday. The promises of today will remain enshrouded in them without our active participation.

So how does one go about making amends? The folks of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) seem to have it nailed. Seven of their 12 Steps show how. A member of that organization once told me if one was to boil the steps down into six words, they would be Trust God. Clean House. Help Others. He went on to say that if there is no housecleaning the former and later are impossible. Anyway, the process comes down to taking a personal inventory, admitting the nature of your wrongs, and then going directly to the people who have been injured, accepting responsibility for damage done. Forgiveness along with the chance for restored relationships becomes a possibility. And the relief experienced on both sides is what I call the joy of reconciliation.

In this era of increasing polarization, name calling, and hate-speak there is lots of harm being done. Family members and friends are distancing themselves...each taking up their own assumed moral high ground. When those who have stirred up all of this divisiveness are long gone we will be left in isolated and lonely places. Perhaps adopting the 12 Step model would be a plan. Start out by admitting to yourself the mistakes which have done harm. Then try to make them right (or as AA people say ‘Do the Next Right Thing’). Remember, making those amends will result in the joy of reconciliation.

Mutual Respect; A First Dose of Healing

There is a lack of mutual respect which fuels the misunderstanding, violence and hatred so evident in society today. The differences we have are strengths, not weaknesses. In fact, it is our rich diversity that makes this country so vibrant and unique. Our oneness looks more like a multi-layered quilt than a homogenized melting pot.

I'm always skeptical when someone quips that they are 'color blind' while discussing issues surround race. Saying such a thing strips the other person of their distinctive flavor and negates the special gifts we each have to offer. People don't have to want the same things. We don't have to worship the same way. In fact, we don't need anything in common at all to have mutual respect.

I was listening to an interview with Dee Margo, mayor of El Paso following the mass shooting in his town. In response to a question concerning gun violence, he offered some good home spun Texas wisdom saying;

"There's a lot goin' on in America right now. We’re gonna have to deal with it on all levels."

He is right of course. There are no simple solutions to the surge of hatespeak and horrific bloodshed we are experiencing. Much has to be done to change our direction and few options should be eliminated. But a first dose of healing would be to put away our measuring sticks. This will allow us to regard the sacred dignity of one another and generate an energy which flows both ways. The resulting mutual regard will transform into mutual respect. And it's almost impossible to hate or hurt someone you respect.

Have Hope; The Best Is Yet To Be

Hope is never in short supply though we sometimes turn our faces from its light and stare into the darkness. This looking away invites gloom to our table. Fear and discouragement creep in as unwanted guests. But even so, there still remains a flicker of hope which cannot be extinguished. When we reawaken to its presence, the shadows of uncertainty will always withdraw.

Hope transforms every aspect of life because it is the essence of faith. Times of trouble will come and go. But those who carry the torch of faith and hope will light the path of recovery and healing guiding us to the place where love does not have to be proven. These beacon carriers are angels among us. They come in every size, shape, and color asking only that we open our hearts to join their quest of freedom from doubt.

For me, and for the clients I serve, doubt has proven to be the antithesis of hope. It is a faith killer for those who suffer with addictions and from childhood trauma. Doubt informs us that nothing will bring relief. Nobody will be able to help. It says that we will always be alone.

"Hope is not an idle, misty, sympathetic emotion. It is a faith-filled response to life." ~ Robert K. Jones

Even when sword rattling is deafening and all seems to be lost, we must choose to respond to life with hope believing that the best is yet to be. And we know this belief to be true because the outcomes are not relegated to darkness. They are in the hands of a loving God.

A Cry for Justice; When Mercy is Abandoned

There is an almost deafening cry for justice nowadays. So many people feel like they have been treated unfairly. Certainly, the evidence of widespread child abuse, disproportionate incarceration along racial and ethnic lines, and all kinds of discrimination, are reasons for those who suffer to seek recompense. But is justice really what we seek? Too often those deafening cries sound more like angry rumblings for revenge.

When we desperately desire for those who have wronged us to get-what-is-coming to them, practically all notions of mercy are abandoned. There is a bit of the vigilante in the best of us. Isn't it strange that when we pray to God we always ask for mercy when it comes to our wrongdoings but never ask for justice. Mercy seems to be what we want for ourselves while justice is what we pursue for others.

The difference between justice and mercy is that mercy seeks forgiveness and justice seeks punishment. Both of them wish to make the victim whole again. Don't get me wrong. There must always be consequences to unacceptable behavior. Without rules, laws and impartial justice, anarchy overcomes societal order. I have served as an officer of the court, a probation officer, and a pardons/parole prison counselor. So I thoroughly understand the need for a system of judicial penalty. But maybe, just maybe, if we would first apply The Golden Rule (Matthew 7:12) the difference between justice and mercy might blur a little bit.

In the midst of current conditions while seemingly surrounded by chaotic suffering, we could easily miss seeing the presence of God in those who have wounded us. We must remember that when mercy is abandoned, the heavy hand of justice can destroy us as easily as any shadowy external enemy. May our guardians of justice always consider the flawed nature of all people and balance their decisions with fairness. May we, in turn be merciful as God is merciful to us.

We Can Be Better; We Can Do Better

We are all good people.

That is a very bold statement. It is bold because there are undeniably so many examples of deplorable human behavior. It manifests in ever-expanding acts of violence, evil and hatred. However, we are all just as undeniably born as good people. Things happen along the way that harden our hearts and minds. But each of us continues to be a work in progress with a God-given capacity for good and an ability to become much better. Nobody is perfect. When these truths are recognized, we can finally begin to embrace the fundamental goodness in others and in ourselves.

“Our whole mission and purpose in life is one of love.”

— Robert Kenneth Jones

We have slipped into a dangerous and slippery place lately, where lines are drawn and walls have been built between those who are most like us and those who are different. Skin color, ethnic background, gender, religious beliefs, language, sexual orientation. and socioeconomic status are among the many ways we are dividing ourselves (most often in the name of safety and security). By so doing, we disown the ones who need us most. Those who suffer are held in contempt and blamed for their poverty of substance and spirit as if it comes from some inborn lack of initiative or laziness. Then, life becomes a contest of the strong against the weak which ultimately leads to wholesale persecution.

Where do we encounter God if not in the faces of one another? How can we know God at all if we establish a hierarchy of worth?

In short, we cannot.

The only God that can exist under those circumstances is more akin to Santa Claus who continually makes a list of the naughty and nice. Judgment and punishment are the hallmarks of how that kind of God relates to us. This cannot be. If God is Love in one breath, God cannot be executioner in the next. But since God is Love, and we are God's children, then our whole mission and purpose in life is one of Love. Jesus makes this clear in The Great Commandment (Matthew 22:36-40) when we are told above all else, to Love God, our neighbors and ourselves.

And so, good people, we are empowered. We are better than we thought. We can be better. We can do better.

The Bondage of Worry; Setting Yourself Free

Worry is a jailer who keeps us shackled. He forces us to peer ten steps ahead while reminding us of how inadequately we are prepared for what might come next. I have seen the effects of this in my counseling offices day after day for the past four decades. It manifests in substance abuse disorders, depression, anxiety, and hypochondria. But regardless of diagnosis, the result is that life (which is going on in the present moment) rushes by unappreciated. And hope is stifled. The worry prison makes sure of such things.

Worry is a liar. Studies show that most people spend anywhere from one to eight hours every day worrying about things when only 8% of those problems ever actually materialize. What a waste of time and energy! Freeing ourselves from bondage requires acceptance of this reality.

I'm always comforted by the way Jesus addresses worry. He gives perfect guidance to listeners in what is known as his Sermon on the Mount. In this message of how to live, pray and serve one another, he gives special attention to worry telling us simply not to do it. (Matthew 6:25-34). He asks if anyone can add a single hour to their life by worrying. Of course, the answer is a resounding NO. For if we are to be free and if we are to live fully...life demands an even more resounding YES. The fact is that our control over outcomes is limited no matter how much we would like to be in charge of them. What is required is that we do what needs to be done and address whatever concerns crop up. After that, we just have to 'Let go and Let God'.

Here is a little slogan I offer to my clients. It's a great reminder when worries show up and try to imprison us.

This is the only moment available to me. This is it. Just this.

Finding the Pony; A Full Embrace of Abundance

Our load will be lightened and spirit renewed when we delight in the fullness of life.

We have become such a people of more, bigger and better...quickly tossing aside treasures of yesterday in favor of today's bling. Our sense of lack has obscured the presence of incredible abundance surrounding us.  It gets pretty ridiculous.  Someone I know owns a perfectly good, late model smartphone, but is champing at the bit to spend nearly $1,000 for the newest release. Really. We seem to be chasing headlong after some distant pleasure that, when finally obtained, provides such transient comfort that we must start the pursuit all over again. I'm reminded of the story about two little boys being tested by a psychologist:

A researcher took two subjects, an eight-year-old privileged boy and an eight-year-old marginalized boy, placing them in two separate rooms.  The wealthy kid was seated among dozens of brightly wrapped gifts and the poor kid was enclosed with great ceiling-high piles of horse manure.  When the scientist returned to see what was happening two hours later, he found the boy with the presents wandering around his room with the carnage of opened presents strewn about.  When asked what he was doing the child replied, "I'm bored.".  Arriving in the second room, the researcher found an eight-year-old throwing horse manure all over the place.  When asked what he was doing, the child replied, "Hey mister, with all of this horse manure, there has to be a pony in here somewhere."

We can do better than this. We are better than this.  Our own great privilege will be revealed if only we could take a personal and corporate inventory.  We will surely rediscover that the cup runneth over.  In fact, there is so much extra that we could probably never be without. God has given us an abundance of love that we might do good for those who struggle and suffer.  He implores us to appreciate what we have and to share our rich blessings.  Jesus and every prophet make this clear.  Now is the time to embrace our abundance. It is delightful. Look. There is a pony in there after all.

Good Intentions; A Paving Project

The good we do lives on forever.  But our intentions disappear with the early morning mist.

There is a great little pub near the University of Illinois in Champaign, Illinois named Murphy's. Famous for its cheeseburgers and fries, it has been a haunt of graduate students and alumni for the past 50 years.  It is also known for the graffiti carved on its tables and written on other surfaces.  One of my contributions once graced a booth.  Some of the words reflect the transformation of hearts and minds.  But my favorite one said this;

No regrets. No more apologies

This poetic wall-thought still speaks to me.  It tells of mistakes, excuses, explanations, and justifications offered up over the young life of one embarking on a new journey, seemingly free of external pressure and expectations.  It was a promise made which probably couldn't be kept for very long. So it goes with most good intentions.

I know what is implied when they say "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." But it seems rather counterintuitive that there would be a well-paved highway to fire and brimstone.  The suggestion is that Old Scratch somehow uses what we fail to do for his benefit.  Though all of that mythology is interesting, it is more likely that the paving project of good intentions falls under auspices of The Department of Individual Neglect. Everyone suffers when we allow the infrastructure of our hopes and dreams fall to waste.

Like hopes and dreams, good intentions require legs and wings.  They have to be implemented with passion and hard good work.  They cannot be compromised by expedient distractions but must be cherished, nurtured, and developed with discipline. Good intentions can be a cranky bugger. I guess this is why we let many of them go.

Oneing; Our Undeniable Kinship

There is so much talk about how divided, tribal, isolated and separate we are becoming.  At a time when science, technology and authentic religion point to our obvious interconnected oneness, voices cry out that there must be some kind of mistake. But there is no mistake. We are all cut from the same cloth.  We are kin, woven together with everything and everybody.

The problem with accepting the truth of our undeniable kinship is that it is always followed by a sense of civil responsibility.  It is far easier to go with the lie of separateness.  When we recognize brothers and sisters in one another, there comes a call to compassionate action restorative justice, and mercy. It no longer makes sense to hate, to seek retribution or to find a scapegoat.  Good families work together to find solutions for differences because our relationships have a firm foundation of love.

"We carry the whole world in our hearts, the oppression of all people, the suffering of our friends, the burdens of our enemies, the raping of the earth, the hunger of the starving, the joyous expectation every laughing child has a right to." ~ Sister Joan Chittister

It wasn't until I discovered the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) that the full realization of my oneness with the struggles of others really hit me. Although my lifework had been working with children who suffered unimaginable abuse, none of my counsel seemed to apply to me or connected to my own woundedness. Forced by the consequences of drowning my sorrows in booze, I stumbled into AA. It was a remarkable experience. Men and women freely and intimately joined in a common oneness surrounding their most devastating tragedies. They forged an alliance and healing community. I left with a sense that everyone on the planet should join AA whether they ever had a drinking problem or not. The result for me was that I became a better counselor and a better human being.

This acceptance and acting out of our undeniable kinship is often referred to as "oneing", a term first used by Julian of Norwich in the fifteenth century. Bill Wilson and AA figured it out in the 1940s. Once pursued, nothing short of it will ever satisfy you again. When fully embraced it will change your life and it will change the world.

Here and Now; Just One Moment in Time

We have one brief shining moment. And this is it. Here and now.

Do you remember how easy it was to savor those endless moments of summer when you were little? A big black ant trying to carry some ponderous treasure several times its size would captivate us. We could lay in the cool grass watching clouds in the sky finding shapes of dinosaurs (and lions and tigers and bears). Impatient parents would ask if we hadn't anything better to do. It was hard for us to imagine what in the world they were talking about. But soon enough, the languishing comes to an end. Jackie Paper no longer comes to visit Puff. We start growing up and put more value on future goals than on miracle moments. Eventually. worries about the future and regrets about the past consume us. Though, as any psychologist will confirm, something of the child remains. I've seen toughened men weep when they read or hear Rumi's poem Red Shirt;

Has anyone seen the boy who used to come here?
Round-faced troublemaker, quick to find a joke,
slow to be serious.
Red shirt, perfect coordination, sly, strong muscles,
with things always in his pocket.
Reed flute, ivory pick, polished and ready for his talent.
You know that one.
Have you heard stories about him?
Pharaoh and the whole Egyptian world
collapsed for such a Joseph.
I would gladly spend years getting word
of him, even third- or fourth-hand.

Since some of that boy or girl lingers beneath our adult busyness, maybe God is trying to implore us to reach inside for something we thought was lost. Perhaps the truth we knew so well as children is a key to living life fully. For what we have done is finished, and what we might accomplish someday only dwells in the mist. Gordon Cosby, the beloved mentor of so many servant leaders taught me that all of eternity has conspired to bring us to this very moment.

Be quiet and think about his lesson. This sacred moment is the crossroad of time, space, and eternity. They coexist as marvelous works of creation. We certainly might not perceive it during painful and tragic situations. We might not even 'get it' on a vacation beach walk at sunrise. But during this one moment in time, taken from the perspectives of each living creature, contains every one of God's brush strokes. Birth, death, love, hate, peace, war, anguish, and ecstasy are all happening here and now. And as Gordon Cosby said; "We have been waiting for you for a long, long time."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96aAx0kxVSA

It is at this crossroad, if we allow the child in us to speak of ants and clouds, that we will encounter Immanuel...God-With-Us.