Heroines and Pioneers

When I think of my childhood, some of the women I was taught to admire most were the pioneers of our country.   They had a hardscrabble life, worked their fingers to the bone, knew how to knit and sew, plant and raise livestock, chop wood, handle a rifle and hunt, skin and prepare game for their families, gave birth at home and teach their children to read the Bible and to love and honor God to the best of their abilities.  They were tough, and stubbornly determined to make a good life out of what they had.  They and all the other romanticized stories of the Wild West and the frontiersmen and women, formed images in my mind from the time I was young about what it meant to fight for what you believed in and succeed.  Of course in my mind all the pioneer women were beautiful too!  I suppose they have always been my heroines.  They fit so perfectly into the mold of the tough uncompromising heroes of faith in the Bible.

Heroes like Elisha who sees a huge army of enemy soldiers surrounding his house, and he doesn't even bat an eye.  "There are more with us than with them," he tells his panicking servant.  And sure enough, there was - a vast army of angels in chariots of fire covering the mountainsides as far as the eye could see, once those spiritual eyes were opened.

This has to be one of my favorite passages, because I use it often when I feel backed up against a wall.  When I feel the impending sense of doom creep into my emotions that everything is about to go wrong, I remember this.  I love being radically unafraid in the face of evil.  It honors God and it sure takes up a lot less energy that getting depressed, crying or having an anxiety attack.

I used to think that this kind of faith was reserved only for the spiritually superior, to the super holy.  But thankfully it's available to anyone at any time they're willing to use it.  The toughest part is killing off the negative emotions.  That's what messes up the whole thing.  Once you rid yourself of emotionalism, God provides the rest.

There is something so invigorating about being powerful against enemies.  When evil tries to defeat us, being able to send it running back where it came from makes me so very happy.  This is a kind of emotion I could get addicted to, the joy of fighting for what God wants of me, and overcoming.

I'd love to meet more Christians like that.  There are plenty of women who think they're being tough and strong by not conforming to traditional roles at home, to sleeping with whatever man attracts them and then acting like being a single mother has turned them into heroes.  That's so far from strength, not even close to being intelligent.  I'd like to see more pioneer women when it comes to faith. Not the part about butchering bear meat - I mean being uncompromising and tough when it comes to enemies and unwelcome intruders in their lives and families.  I'd like to see a new class of women come together to fight and overcome problems with unflinching faith.  A group of women who determine that they're not going to live in emotionalism any longer, but by the rational truths of God.  Anybody with me?

By the very act of arguing, you awaken reason...

My husband and kids and I just saw the Screwtape Letters yesterday afternoon in Houston, performed onstage by a theatrical group from New York.  The book, written in the 40's, is amazingly relevant today, but unfortunately many people I know struggle to understand C. S. Lewis' literary language, and miss the very profound and really funny details of the story.  Seeing it with all the energy and drama of a play brought the whole thing to life.

A chief demon gives advice to a less-experienced demon, sent to the world to destroy the life of his first human victim. It doesn't go well, as the victim keeps getting closer to "The Enemy" and experiences true salvation.  Through Screwtape's advice to his young nephew, we can see into the inner workings of a demon's strategies.  So funny, so sad and so very real.

Evil exists and thrives where there is no faith in God, and lack of faith thrives where emotionalism is the driving force behind people's decisions.  Don't let them think or reason, just make them feel - the effective mode of operation for demons.

“Whatever their bodies do affects their souls. It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out...” (Screwtape)

It's true that our generation puts far less importance on thinking and reasoning than generations before.  (I know all old folks complain about the youngsters today and how much better it was in the old days.  I sure hope I don't sound like one of those!)  But look at the vast amount of pure garbage there is to dwell on and obsess about available on TV and the internet today compared to in the past.  Celebrities, totally devoid of talent, can devour a large percentage of media coverage whenever they appear in public, even it it's a trip to the local coffee shop.  Why does anyone care, and why do we even bother to gawk and their pictures?  The emotionalism of the moment makes us look, and they know it.

But there is a wealth of learning, of inspiration, of wisdom, of challenging old assumptions and character building writings and teachings - from both the Bible and just history itself - that an overwhelming percentage of young adults will only touch if forced to by a teacher, and then just enough to pass a test.

And then there is just plain thinking that doesn't require an advanced education or even exposure to good literature, just simple common sense.  The reasoning of Abraham, a sheep and goat herder in the desert.  The reasoning of Gideon, threshing wheat in a wine-press or young David, bringing lunch to his brothers.  They looked at the stars, the promises of God, the lions and bears they had killed with their hands and reasoned that great things could be done through them because they believed in the power of rational thought.

There are plenty of people who love to argue, but argue about how things make them feel.  Healthy debate and argument about logic or truth is as foreign to many people as yak butter (look it up).  Good arguments are done for the sake of really wanting to learn and understand.  Have you even experienced one of those?  Good arguments that I've been blessed to be a part of have been some of the greatest motivators and life changers I've ever experienced.  

For the next three weeks I'm disconnecting from the world of media and entertainment and cutting myself off from all the information that is just there to dull my senses and dull my faith.  I want to rediscover the power of thinking, reasoning, and listening to my Creator speak to me as clearly and wonderfully as He wants to.  This is not one of those painful fasts that you keep wishing were over because of the great amount of self-denial that goes into it (lunch, please let me eat some lunch!!).  Rather it's a chance to nourish and renew that part of me that I ignore far too much.  My mind.

I challenge you to join me.  Keep reading this blog, as I'll be posting more frequently than usual during these next three weeks.

"The trouble about argument is that it moves the whole struggle onto the Enemy's own ground. By the very act of arguing, you awake the patient's reason; and once it is awake, who can foresee the result?" - Screwtape











  

Emotionalists Anonymous

Cravings, urges, impulsive indulgence, self-destructive choices, flirtation with death, inflicting pain on loved ones - the common characteristics of an addict. But throw in one more addiction into the mix, far more destructive: emotionalism.

Emotionalists surround us every day.  They may have steady jobs and appear to be rational and intelligent but when confronted with a choice to go with their feelings or their head, feelings win out big time.

They know that they’re making poor choices, just like the alcoholic knows the dangers of his problem.  They’ve been steeped in a culture of emotion, and most have come from generations of emotionalists.  Choosing not to make emotional decisions is a monumental effort. Gut instincts tell them to go with what they feel over what they know, and their gut is their moral compass.

As drug addicts can hand down their tendencies to their children, emotionalism can be instilled in a child from the womb and reinforced well into adulthood when they procreate a new generation of emotionalists.

Lana is just one of many who I know.  Her mother was a prostitute and raised her among very corrupt and unscrupulous people.  She was raped as a child by a few of her mother’s business acquaintances. Lana was starved for love and affection, and found that the attention gained from men gave her a fleeting feeling of being loved, so she allowed herself to be taken advantage of frequently.  She knew that it was not the same thing as love, but the emotional facsimile that these relationships produced was close enough for her to accept.

Lana came to church wanting to clean up her life.  She knew she needed God.  She cried multiple times during each service.  She came forward for every prayer.  She gave her life to God over and over.  But Lana was an addict.  Emotions had her in a choke hold.

When it came to listening and agreeing with what she was taught, Lana was all for it.  But when she walked out the church’s doors and faced her daily attack of doubts and fears of abandonment, she relied on her feelings.  To some women, the question of “should I sleep with this strange man because I’m mad at my boyfriend,” doesn’t even cross their mind.  It’s a disgusting and laughable thought.  But to Lana, it was a struggle to resist.  She believed in the Bible.  She wanted to love God.  But her addiction is overwhelming.

But emotionalists don’t just come from the fringes of society.  They fill every class on every level.  The well-to-do intellectual who suffers bouts of depression doesn’t enjoy church because the music is hokey, and the church experience doesn’t appeal to his sense of coolness.  Forget the fact that many in the church have overcome depression and worse, he doesn’t want to sacrifice his appearance of independence for the sake of healing. He claims to be independent, but needs his anti-depressants and can’t fall asleep at night without music blaring in his ears.  Going to God just doesn’t feel like it will fit into his lifestyle.

The doting mother who wants her children to grow up and get a good education, can’t understand why they rebel and disrespect her.  The more she shouts at them, withholds privileges, scolds and lectures, the more they roll their eyes and block her out of their lives.  The older ones who have left home barely ever come around to see her.  She wants intelligent children, but her own intelligence takes a back seat to her demanding, controlling, fearful nature.  Her addiction is killing her children’s love for her.

The high-earning husband who can’t understand why his wife keeps asking if he still loves her, feels badgered and irritated in his marriage.  She complains that he doesn’t spend enough time with her, but the rest of her words turn into a blur of nagging that feels too painful to listen to.  He decides that if she’s unhappy with him, rather than do what she asks, he’ll do what he feels is best - work harder and earn more money to provide for their home.  He comes home later, goes to work earlier, doesn’t complain with her incessant chatter, and believes himself to be a hero, only to find that she doesn’t appreciate any of it and leaves him for another man.

The infiltration of drugs and the plague of alcoholism had been destroying our nation one soul at a time.  But the addiction to emotions is the worst kind of plague.  It’s the foundation of all other addictions, depression, broken homes and failed relationships.  It is the giant barrier that blocks people from truly finding God and truly experiencing freedom and power in this world and salvation in the world to come.  If Christians fall into this addiction, then what hope does the world have?

Why Can't a Woman Be More Like a Man?

The eternal question remains... why can't we figure each other out?

Enjoy this very amusing observation from Prof. Higgins from the movie, My Fair Lady (lyrics below).  He was confident that his lovely student would be overjoyed at her success at the ball, yet instead, she ran away in embarrassment.  For those who have watched this movie with Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn, it becomes noticeable that he is falling in love with her at this point, but he masks it with plenty of frustrated bluster and shouting that only confuses her.

Will we every figure each other out?  Depends on how hard we try!  The Succeed in Marriage Course in Katy, TX begins this week, sign up now.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Why can't a woman be more like a man?
Men are so honest, so thoroughly square;
Eternally noble, historically fair.
Who, when you win, will always give your back a pat.
Why can't a woman be like that?
Why does every one do what the others do?
Can't a woman learn to use her head?
Why do they do everything their mothers do?
Why don't they grow up, well, like their father instead?


Why can't a woman take after a man?
Men are so pleasant, so easy to please.
Whenever you're with them, you're always at ease.


Would you be slighted if I didn't speak for hours?


COLONEL PICKERING:
Of course not.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Would you be livid if I had a drink or two?


COLONEL PICKERING:
Nonsense.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Would you be wounded if I never sent you flowers?


COLONEL PICKERING:
Never.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Well, why can't a woman be like you?


One man in a million may shout a bit.
Now and then, there's one with slight defects.
One perhaps whose truthfulness you doubt a bit,
But by and large we are a marvelous sex!


Why can't a woman take after a man?
'Cause men are so friendly, good-natured and kind.
A better companion you never will find.


If I were hours late for dinner would you bellow?


COLONEL PICKERING:
Of course not.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
If I forgot your silly birthday, would you fuss?


COLONEL PICKERING:
Nonsense.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Would you complain if I took out another fellow?


Pickering
Never.


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Why can't a woman be like us?


[dialog]


PROFESSOR HIGGINS:
Why can't a woman be more like a man?
Men are so decent, such regular chaps;
Ready to help you through any mishaps;
Ready to buck you up whenever you're glum.
Why can't a woman be a chum?


Why is thinking something women never do?
And why is logic never even tried?
Straightening up their hair is all they ever do.
Why don't they straighten up the mess that's inside?


Why can't a woman behave like a man?
If I was a woman who'd been to a ball,
Been hailed as a princess by one and by all;
Would I start weeping like a bathtub overflowing,
Or carry on as if my home were in a tree?
Would I run off and never tell me where I'm going?
Why can't a woman be like me?

The Mind of a Woman: beautifully dangerous

Last Sunday in the first session of the Inner Healing course, we talked about the uniqueness of a woman's brain, not just the way culture has shaped us, but even our basic biological differences.  To start the healing of inner wounds, you have to start with you, who you are, what you feel and why you find yourself reacting the way you do.

There are beautiful gifts that God has instilled in women, that can even be seen in the scientific study of our brains.  Our center for communication, for example, is far more developed than in men.  Our abilities to sense the needs and emotions of others around us are critical skills for mothers who are dealing with children who can't speak yet, for adolescents who don't understand their emotions, and generally for connecting with our neighbors and coworkers socially.

But these have so often been twisted and used against us.  Women with the gift of gab can turn it into a weapon to hurt and insult, gossip and manipulate so artfully it's hard to even catch it when it happens.  Our gift of sensitivity can be so overstimulated by past hurts and disappointments that we become convinced that it's going to happen again, and begin to act on emotions rather than fact.  We put up walls, we hurt others before they hurt us, we hide in fear, we lower our standards in relationships because we are convinced that we don't deserve better.  We perpetuate our inner pain instead of heal it.

Wait a minute - the reason why I have inner wounds are because of what others have done to me.  If they hadn't hurt me/let me down/accused me/rejected me/misled me... then I'd be just fine.  It's their fault.  They have to make it right. 

Turning back time is impossible, and waiting for someone who offended you to finally apologize and undo all the negative things that they have done, will probably keep you waiting an eternity.  You don't have time to waste waiting for people or circumstances to change to believe in your healing.  The work has to begin with you first, right now.  It comes through intelligent decisions, practical changes, and allowing the power of God to flow in you.

Learn, and pray with us every Sunday afternoon at SiLC, Houston during these 4 weeks of Inner Healing for Women!

Inner Healing for Women, four Sundays, four sessions in Houston, TX  

The Guilt Trip

When it comes to teaching, leading, and shaping lives, a healthy dose of conviction is necessary.  A good parent knows how to make sure their kids feel the pain of disobedience and rebellious attitudes, and to feel badly for what they have done.  All of us need correction from time to time, but some teachers, parents, and leaders can't grasp how to use the power of positive leadership.  When guilt and condemnation run through every message, especially without a stronger message of hope to counterbalance it, something is wrong.

The continuous dumping of guilt over the heads of people who sincerely want to do what is right, but sometimes get it wrong, is a sure fire way to discourage and cause them to give up.  Only those with a firm sense of who they are can deal with that, but not without some form of negative effects.  You can force a child, an employee or a follower to do what you want for a time, while actually making it harder for them to find joy in what they do.  When it comes to children, your harshness can become a message that stays with them for life: "You are stupid, a loser and a big disappointment to me."  Once that's sunken in, healing that unnecessary wound will be very difficult.

Authoritarian cultures respond better to authoritarian leaders.  15 years ago in South Africa, my son was struggling through the very regimented school system there.  He was bright, creative and intelligent, but the dictatorship of the teaching staff at his various schools caused him to withdraw and shut out the demanding angry words that surrounded him every day.  His teachers complained that he was lazy, distracted, irresponsible and everything that I knew he wasn't.  The other children seemed to be doing fine, accustomed to that manner of education.  I was at a loss for what to do, but knew there had to be a better way.  How he was treated at home was so different from the treatment he got at school, but how could I explain that to his teachers?

After a few frustrating years of forcing him through this system, we moved to the Philippines where we found an American missionary school to enroll him.  Instantly, he blossomed, and not only his grades, but his love of learning shot up to high levels.  He was a pleasure to his teachers, and he made some very good friends.  When I saw that, I vowed never to subject him to the former again.  Homeschooling became our norm after that.  The difference?  Leading through encouragement, not through guilt.

For those who insist that it can't be done, that being too positive makes you "soft," I'd like to point out that Jesus' form of leadership was far more positive than negative. Sure, He said shocking things, sure He called the Pharisees vipers, a poor woman a dog, told a man to let the dead bury the dead, but that was not His normal mode of teaching.  He knew that people in general struggle with negative emotions, doubts and self-criticism.  Beating them down with criticism wasn't the way to win their souls.  Only the exceedingly proud religious leaders who resisted Him needed harsh words from time to time.  But the Early Church followers were ready to face the lions for His sake, not because they felt guilty if they didn't sacrifice their lives, but out of a sense of gratitude and joy to honor His name.  That was and is the effect of God's Spirit upon His children when He's allowed to work.

If the sun can peel the jacket off of a stubborn man's back more effectively than a storm, if a gentle constant drop of water can break through solid rock, don't doubt that leadership through encouragement is too weak or ineffective.  There's always that fear that no one will get the message if you're "too nice."  It is possible to be kind, encouraging, positive and firm all at the same time.  Maybe you've never really seen it done, or been willing to give it a try.  But if Jesus could do it, why not us?  There's another world out there that you may never have discovered.


Check out the Inner Healing for Women Course in Houston for the next 4 Sundays.

A Filipina beauty turns 90

The newlyweds, Evansville IN, 1947

Today my mom turns 90.  Born in the town of St. Antonio, in the province of Nueva Ecija in the Philippines in 1922, she was the fifth child, but the first daughter of Benito and Julia Reyes.  She would later have a younger brother and sister.

She grew up surrounded by the beauty of sugar cane fields and rice paddies, tropical rains, mango trees, and the freedom to run and play in safety with neighborhood friends.

The stories she told me as I was growing up of her childhood were enchanting to me. The raft her brothers built to float down the river, the pigs and piglets she was given charge to care for until the mother pig was offered up as a Christmas barbecue every year that broke her heart...  The strict discipline of her grandmother, Celerina who was raised in the traditional Spanish school of etiquette, and who would pinch her if she squirmed in church.  The invasion of the Japanese during the Second World War, and their hurried escape into the mountains to hide for months in safety from the brutality of the soldiers.  The joy that the Americans had set their country free and driven out the Japanese, combined with the grief of losing her older brother Chrisolito as a prisoner of war during the Bataan death march.

And finally, the day that the handsome young American soldier wandered into Knox Methodist church in Manila, where her brother was the pastor, and she sang in the choir.  That soldier was my dad, PFC Donald Sansom who served in McArthur's headquarters during the war, and married her two years later.

The Filipina who was studious and well educated, married the mid-western all-American boy who took her home to Indiana to meet his family. Life was very, very different.  There was cold weather, snow, and curious eyes to see this strange island girl who had moved into the all-white neighborhood.  My mom was an oddity, but one thing she had was charm and confidence, even when she didn't feel confident at all.  She was invited to speak at all the local churches about life in the Philippines, and became more well known that my dad in his own hometown.

Her first snow, Evansville IN, 1947

As years went by, a masters degree from Boston U, a new baby girl (my sister), decisions to serve as full-time missionaries to Korea, more studies, another baby boy, and the adventure that took them to the war-torn capital city of Seoul in 1957, where I was eventually born, brought out some of the best traits in my mom.  She was resilient, disciplined, adventurous, an excellent speaker and professor, and a very devoted mom with the most welcoming arms and the softest lap to hug and kiss her children.  She was not perfect, but I don't want to list her imperfections.  In fact, coming from the time and culture she was raised in and from the struggles she went through in war time and poverty, I wonder how many other women would have fared emotionally.

The family grows to four in Nashville, TN 1956

One favorite memory is catching her in her daily prayers and Bible devotions, if I was able to wake up early enough as the sun was just rising.  I'm certain that much of the blessings throughout my life are because of her prayers and faith for me, even when I didn't give them any value.  She still prays for me to this day, because I caught her in her devotions early in the morning the last time I visited her in California.  My blessings from her still continue.

My beautiful mom is the sharpest, smartest, most vibrant 90 year old I know.  She survives my dad, who she cared for meticulously until his last day of life in 2010.  She has a wealth of experience, knowledge, memories, love and laughter that she carries within her, and I love her immensely.  I know that her prayers and faith have sustained me much more than I can realize, and I pray for her years to come to be full of blessings - who knows, as healthy as she is, she'll probably reach 100!

Happy birthday Mama!!

Pancake time!