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Mental Health

A Time to Regress

My teen is taking Intro to Psychology this summer, and probably the most worthless Psych course conceivable. Since the course failed to cover Freud’s theories in depth, I dusted off my beloved Psychology degree and taught her this myself. No study of Freud would be complete without covering his ego defenses (aka, defense mechanisms), especially since it’s so easy to see these ego defenses manifest themselves in our lives and the lives of others.

According to Freud, ego defenses are necessary to the survival of our psyches, but if they are overused, they lead to dysfunction, even neuroses (to use a mid-nineteenth century psychology term). Denial, for example, gives our brains a moment to catch up with bad or distressing news. Think about it: How often does someone cry out, “No!” when they hear bad news? You can see compensation in the guy with the huge pick-up truck with the loud muffler. My daughters are masters of displacement. When I get on one of them about not doing her chores or studies, she then picks a fight with her sister.

Today, though, I want to talk about regression. This is the ego defense in which the person goes back to an earlier stage of development. Maybe the person curls up in the corner and sucks their thumb when they haven’t thumb-sucked in decades. Another example is when older children begin to bed-wet after they’ve been abused. Or a teenager curls up with her favorite stuffed animal at the end of a hard day.

I have found myself using a little regression today. We’re in the midst of a major clean, and I was working on the floor in one little section of the dinette. I had knelt on a chair and was bending over to pick stuff up. About the best way to envision it would be like a melting child’s pose. (Even yoga allows space to regress in practice.) I was tired, and it felt good. Nevermind that adults are supposed to sit in chairs properly, and most assuredly without their rumps on level with the top of the table. For those moments I was melting over the chair, I forgot my stress, forgot my ginormous to-do list, forgot everything. I was in that moment in a seat in a silly way, just as I used to do when I was a kid. And it felt good.

I got up. I cleaned and hefted. I worked and parented. In short, I adulted. For those short moments, though, I chilled as a child, enjoying the utter relaxation of my position in the chair. For a few moments, I regressed just long enough to charge myself back up for being me.

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Ministry

It’s Okay to Groan

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. (2 Corinthians 5:1-5, NIV)

We groan. We are groaning. We have been groaning for months now. We groan over the illness of loved ones. We groan over not being able to see beloved people. We groan about perceived rights being taken away from us. We have become a groaning people, and in many ways, we certainly have the right and justification to be this way.

My friend Cynthia led a Bible study this morning in which we looked at this whole chapter, but I was fixated on “Meanwhile, we groan.” That was a fresh, liberating idea. Groaning hardly seems like something that should be fresh or liberating. We usually groan with oppression or illness, both of which keep our physical bodies enslaved, either to another person or to malignant organisms. Here in this passage, Paul is talking about groaning because we are in these physical bodies when we long to be clothed with our promised heavenly dwelling. For many people, that is their normal groaning as they long to break free from their physical burdens and struggles.

Yet, Paul’s acknowledgement that we groan is what’s liberating to me. In my year of chaplain residency, I probably heard about a dozen times, “I don’t understand why he’s sick. We read our Bibles daily. We go to church three times a week. We pray every day (not just blessing meals). Why is God doing this to us?” In the midst of sickness, these people–usually women–had never been told, “It’s okay to groan.”

You see, the litany above reads like a check list.

  • Church three times a week. Check.
  • Read Bible daily. Check.
  • Pray every day. Check.
  • Get unlimited blessings from God. Ch–. Hey! Wait a minute! Something’s not working for us here.

The pain for these lovely people is that they had not been properly prepared for the reality of living in a fallen creation. They had been exposed to a variation of the Health, Wealth, Prosperity heresy, either by watching its proponents like Joel Osteen on television or coming out of the pulpit on Sundays. (Sidebar: I’m guessing your average pulpit preacher who ascribes to this heresy believes it’ll make him as wealthy as Osteen, so they spread the heresy.) Unfortunately, despite their checking off all the prescribed tasks, these parishioners were facing a decline in health. How can this be? They did everything right. Why is this beloved spouse or parent suffering and sick?

Somewhere along the way, they were taught they never have to suffer, so they’d never be in a position to groan when the truth is, groaning is a perfectly acceptable response to pain and suffering. The apostle Paul tells us that it is okay to do that. We can live into our humanity and groan over our sufferings and the sufferings of those we love. We can groan through our faith, knowing that God hears the groanings of our hearts, minds, and souls and responds to them through comfort and compassion. We can groan because we are human and sometimes words fail us. Is is okay to groan.

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Mental Health

Embracing the Lizard Within

Week before last, my quite girly younger daughter had the opportunity to pet-sit for her best friend’s dad’s pets, which included two toads, a bunch of fish and snails, a bearded dragon, and the dubia roaches that make up the (I’m guessing) tastiest part of the lizard’s diet. The bearded dragon’s name is Spike, and he’s kind of cute–for a reptile. Spike lives in a decent-sized plywood box with heat lamps, rocks, fake logs, fake greenery, his food and water bowls, and even a hammock. He gets everything he needs.

In the wild, Spike’s little lizard brain would hone in on only one thing: Survival. He would eat, drink, have sex, and go wherever he needed to to regulate his body temperature. He lives in the here-and-now. He doesn’t fret over if he’s going to get fed or when. He doesn’t worry about if he’s going to roast under the lamps. He exists in each and every moment as it’s happening.

We humans have lizard brains, too. This is the brainstem, that part of the brain that serves only to keep us alive. It keeps our hearts beating, our lungs functioning, and our temperatures in check. It helps us to survive. This part of our brains doesn’t worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow or next week. It’s not, for example, stressing out about birthday parties or what its daughter’s community college is going to do about classes in the fall. It doesn’t stay up fretting over the snide barbs that supposed friend shot at us. It has no thought about bills or doctor’s appointments, or anything that jumbles up the other, bigger parts of our brains.

My challenge to you is to embrace your lizard brain. Let it have the run of your head for a few minutes. No, don’t take this to mean you have to propagate the entire species by yourself. But be like the lizard. The lizard only concerns itself with what is happening in this very moment. It only responds to threats that are right here in front of it right now. So, if there’s nothing trying to kill you or eat you, then there is nothing to respond to. That threat or that worry that wants to plague your mind doesn’t actually exist, so it doesn’t deserve your attention.

This looks like pushing the pause button on the other two parts of the triune brain. This looks like letting those two parts of the brain rest while the primitive lizard brain, which never rests, runs the show for a bit by itself. So, for a few minutes–two or three or five, at least–close your eyes and be in the moment. Focus on what you’re feeling against your skin. Think of what you’re smelling, what you can hear. Focus on your breathing as the air goes in and out of your body. Taking this time will reduce your anxiety and ease your stress, lowering your heart rate and your blood pressure. In this time of Covid-stress, we all could use some of that!

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Ministry

Oh the Irony! Wanting the Healing Without the Humility

I love irony, and I delight in seeing ironic situations play out. Better yet is when those who are engaging in the ironic behavior don’t see what they’re doing.

I happened to be driving down a 2-lane street one block off of the downtown grid in our sleepy little town. This was completely unintentional. My route took me past one of the Baptist churches in our town, a notoriously conservative congregation. In front of their church was their regular, permanent church sign with 2 Chronicles 7:14 which reads, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” Another, newer, temporary sign announced “Worship Sunday at 10:30 in parking lot or sanctuary.”

I think I get where they were going with this Bible verse. Our land is in need of healing from the coronavirus and political divisions. It’s in need of healing from corrupt, violent cops and paid rioters and looters who are trying to foment more division. We can all agree that our land needs healing to various degrees, though we may not all agree on a diagnosis.

This verse is powerful, but it doesn’t just quote God as saying, “I will forgive their sin and heal their land.” No. There’s something we have to do first. The very first thing we have to do is humble ourselves.

The opposite of humility is pride. It’s pride that puts ourselves first and our wants first.

Pride refuses to wear a mask because it’s “inconvenient,” “a violation of my rights,” or “a violation of my freedoms as an American.” Humility wears a mask to protect other people from viruses the person may be unknowingly carrying.

Pride insists that we have to be in church together. Humility practices patience to keep vulnerable members of the congregation healthy.

Pride demands its way when it comes to having church services. Humility understands that we are the church and can do church outside the walls.

Pride puts itself first while humility puts others first.

The chronicler straight-up tells us that we have to put other people first. That comes before praying. It comes before seeking God. It comes before repenting. Humbling ourselves–putting our pridefulness aside–is the first step to God doing God’s part. (I love this verse, because it’s two sermons in one–one 4-pointer, one 3-pointer. Good for two consecutive Sundays.)

If we want God to heal our land, we have got to humble ourselves enough to put others first. We have to wear our masks to prevent spreading the virus to other people out of our God-called love for them. We have to keep at least six feet away from people if we’re unmasked. We have to squelch our insistence on having our own way when it comes to church. We have the right to be Christians, to tune into online worship (even at other churches if we want!), we have the right to read our Bibles, we have the right to be the church. We do not have the right to gather for worship when Christian charity deems it unsafe to do so. Insisting on worshiping in unsafe times is prideful. Practicing self-control is humble.

Know what else is humble? Following the biblical command to follow laws and rules we may not agree with. Whether we are “rendering to Caesar what is Caesar’s” (aka, paying taxes) or following the law of the land, the Bible is explicit on what we are to do. While I have no problem with our governor’s order to wear a mask, I realize others don’t feel the same. However, those same people who refuse to wear masks will tell you that they love the Bible, love God, and love others. They may even tell you they live by the Word, obeying every word it says. I get it. But it’s not about us now. It’s about others, the people we’re told to love.

 

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Books Ministry

More about the Voices Project

To submit your own contribution, email it to Voices@SaraDNesbitt.com. Please feel free to ask any questions you may have in the comments.

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Books

Voices of Color

In light of the lynching of George Floyd, an African American man in Minneapolis who was killed by a police officer, and the subsequent peaceful protests throughout the country, stories started popping up in social media–stories by friends, people of color I like and respect. Who, exactly, would hear them? Outside of their friends lists, how many White people actually know anything about their struggles with racism or the pain they face watching their children being the target of racist, bigoted comments? My guess is, not enough.

As the African American voices (Can I call them Black voices for the sake of typing brevity?) rose in waves from large cities and small towns around the globe, my own voice needed to be quiet. This is frustrating because the color of my skin, a virtue of my genetics, gives me a privilege and voice my Black co-createds lack. For the last week, I’ve thought, How can I use my voice and my privilege to make things better?

It’s not my voice that needs to be heard, though.What if I used my privilege to highlight and amplify the voices of persons of color? And that is what I want to do–amplify their voices. I want to be the microphone and amps through which Blacks can speak so other Whites can hear them.

So I got an idea.

I could collect and curate stories of racism from members of the African American community. I could share their stories in their voices in a book. They wouldn’t need much at all from me. Maybe a few lines of intro, maybe a little extra information they share with me.

If you’re interested in letting me share your story, I promise the utmost respect. It’s your story, your tone, your voice. I would only be the amplifier. To share your story, email me at voices@SaraDNesbitt.com. The minimal information I’d want to accompany your story is your first name, gender, and approximate age (by decade – i.e., 50s, 30s, etc.). You can choose to be anonymous, too. Other information you can share if you wish is your last name and where you live.

I’m humbled and excited about the prospect of this book. It’s time for White people to hear the true stories of our African American fellow citizens first-hand. My hope is that through these stories understanding will come.

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Uncategorized

Violating the Social Contract

I frequently tick people off by violating the social sexual contract.

The social contract is an unspoken, unwritten, but universally accepted “rule” that dictates how people in a society are supposed to relate to each other. The social sexual contract determines the patriarchal order, giving men dominion and control over women and all aspects of women. It gives men access to women’s bodies in the marriage relationship, taking away the limitations of marital rape. It also gives men control over women’s reproductive health, allowing them to make laws that govern women’s bodies. It is this contract that states men don’t have to listen to women and women are supposed to accept this. This contract allows men to interrupt and talk over women when they’re speaking.

It says that, even if women are sexually harassed in the workplace, that they should just be quiet in deference to the man’s reputation. We have even seen this in churches in recent years in light of the #metoo movement where women who are sexually assaulted by male ministers are instructed to forgive their rapists and keep quiet because, after all, he’s a minister with a family, and her speaking would ruin his reputation. (Often, the minister is asked to resign quietly but then goes to another church and repeats the same behaviors.)

As a woman, I’m sick of living under a contract I didn’t sign. I have violated the social contract many times.

  • I violate the social sexual contract when I call men out on interrupting me.
  • I violate the contract when I make my own decisions about what happens to my body.
  • I violate the contract when I declare the injustice in the church patriarchy as insecure male ministers block women’s ordinations then plagiarize their exegetical work.
  • I violate the contract when I affirm and support other female ministers.
  • I violate the contract when I refuse to excuse bullying behavior by male family members and name it for what it is.
  • I violate the contract when I set boundaries against male relatives who want to draw me into hugs I don’t wish to give.

I gladly will continue to violate the social sexual contract. This social contract has become so pervasive that women gladly accept it and buy into it, allowing men the freedom to treat them however they wish. Men don’t consciously realize that there is a contract, but they reap its benefits daily. Only when women and people of color stand up and say, “Enough!” do white men even see there is a problem. Some, like many males with whom I’ve dealt, think the problem is in the one who’s tired of being treated like crap. More evolved males see the problems within the existing social systems and move to eradicate them.

What problems do you see in the existing social contract? What steps can you take to change the contract to make it more equitable?

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Mental Health

Living on Tenterhooks

I hadn’t thought about it until this morning. I was perusing a thread in one of the writer’s groups I’m in on Facebook, and someone posted an amusing meme that referenced the pandemic, dystopian novels, and the conservative party. It didn’t take long before people jumped to politics and someone thought it was a slam against the US president. Then someone else pointed out that the original poster is from the UK and it was maybe referencing their conservative party. We are not, after all, the only country with conservative and progressive political parties. How quickly a sardonic meme about the difficulty of writing dystopian stories during a pandemic turned a bit ugly! That’s when yet another commenter jumped in with, “We are all on tenterhooks right now.”

What a great word, and one I haven’t heard or thought about in ages! It’s quite true, though. So many people — myself included — are much more sensitive to things than usual. I’ve found myself questioning the intelligence of people who are denying science and believing politicians over scientists. Someone I know who usually would be pretty live-and-let-live was indignant about other people’s choices regarding mask wearing. Things that normally would elicit nothing more than an eyeroll and a headshake are making me feel angry. That makes me want to lash out at whoever I deem boneheaded in that moment. Tenterhooks. I have found myself wasting a lot of mental energy feeling angry when it’s not worth it. So I slow my roll, hike up my big girl panties, allow myself the exaggerated eye roll (like, really, who’s going to see me?), and scroll on or hit “delete.” It’s just not worth it.

I wish I could avoid social media altogether. Unfortunately, it is also the home of groups where I give and receive information. It’s where my business pages live. It’s an avenue for asking questions after my tween and I watch National Geographic Explorer virtual classes. (Very cool being able to ask the presenter follow-up questions on Twitter and getting responses!) It has its uses and functions, but it’s also become a vile place of vitriolic spewings and misinformation. It’s not worth seeing my friend’s adorable kid pics and my cousins’ latest happenings when there’s all the other junk to get through.

Are you finding yourself more sensitive these days? Does the pandemic and stay-at-home orders have you feeling like you’re on tenterhooks, unable to just brush off the usual mildly annoying things? Drop your comments below. And, please, let me know if there’s a way I can support and pray for you.

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Ministry

What’s Your Status Quo?

My teen and I watched the 2012 production of Jesus Christ Superstar last night and this morning. While I’m more a fan of the pre-2000 staging with the Ancient Israel/1970s clothing and vibe, this production hit me hard. It’s ultra-modern with the pharisees dressed like Wall Street barons, Judas and Mary Magdalene with dreads, Pilate looking like a power lawyer, and the crowds looking like escapees from the Occupy Wall Street movement, complete with backpacks and tents. Jesus wears an orange jumpsuit at the end, and the jail where they toss him has chain-link and razor wire with armed guards. There are hashtags and allusions to daytime trash talk shows (“Herod’s Song”). There are pictures of homeless people. The crowd holds signs that read, “Rome Lies” and “People Over Profits.” How incredibly fitting for this time of pandemic! It’s raw and gritty, and I cried at the end. This is my second favorite play, and I’ve seen it several times on stage and I own the 1973 movie version. I know how it ends, and I know how the story really ends. (Hint: It doesn’t end on the cross.) And still, I got choked up with tears in my eyes and my nose tingling like it does before I cry. This production hit me as all too relevant.

As we face weeks upon weeks of stay-at-home orders, we yearn for a time when we can get back to “normal.” I’m not sure I want that, though, because if this pandemic has shown us nothing else, it’s shown us what our “normal” selves are like, and it’s quite disgusting. People went insane buying up toilet paper, disinfecting wipes, bread, milk, and paper towels, leaving none for the elderly, the vulnerable, and those who work until 11 p.m. on the front lines of hospitals. I’ve heard reports of people going into stores and pouring filth out of their mouths at other customers and employees. Still others selfishly wanted their rights to go wherever they wanted–including church–but didn’t give a damn about the elderly saints they could unknowingly infect. In short, this pandemic showed us just how big of selfish assholes people can be. Is that what we really want to go back to because that was “normal”?

In the play, what irritates the elite corporate ruling class is that Jesus upsets the status quo. Even in the original staging, the ruling class is made up of the Pharisees, and Jesus was messing with their status quo, too. What does our status quo look like? If our status quo looks like pandering to the wealthy 1% in hopes they’ll drop some financial crumbs, then we’re worshiping the same financial gods they are.

But what if Jesus Christ is our status quo? What would that look like? I think it’d look like altruism. It’d look like selflessness. It would be Christ-centered so that even stresses and irritations wouldn’t make us act like hateful fools.

It would be Bible-based so we would always have the words to share a beautiful or encouraging heart thought. “I thank God for you and think of you with joy.” “God is present with you.” “God hears the fears of your heart today.”

Jesus as our status quo would also be ministry-focused. It would reach out to people with those kind words. It would deliver cookies to neighbors. It would drop some toilet paper off at the home of someone who’s two rolls short and three days shy of pay day. It would send the text or make that phone call that says, “How ya doing? I’m praying for you.” It contacts the preacher to say, “This is tough and you didn’t sign on to preach via live stream to an empty church, but I want you to know you’re doing a great job.”

So what status quo do you want to get to: The materialistic, selfish one where it seems like big business is controlling everything and minimum-wage workers should just shut-up and be happy with what they’re making? The one where vast amounts of pollution belch up into the sky and debris and trash turn blue waters into sludge? Or the status quo that reflects Christ, that nurtures small businesses, advocates for fair wages for these workers we’ve suddenly determined are essential, protects the Earth that sustains our lives, and actively and joyfully cares for those who need it?

I don’t miss the way we used to be, and I’m liking the way we are now. It’s my hope that we are able to grasp hold of how it feels to minister, how it feels to help, how it feels to encourage, how it feels to share, and how it feels to breathe clean air and carry that over into the new normal once this pandemic passes.

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Ministry

Living in the Both/And

Is your life of faith looking more like an either/or or a both/and? We tend to think of our life as disciples of Christ as being more of an either/or. We either have faith that God is with us or we feel afraid. We either feel grateful or we worry about money to pay the bills. We either acknowledge our blessings or we feel anxious in the midst of a crisis.

Christian faith is not an either/or, though. What if you knew that it’s more like a both/and?

Perhaps you’ve read things like, “Faith is the opposite of fear” and felt wracked by guilt, thinking your faith isn’t very strong during times of fear and anxiety. Maybe you’ve heard someone say, “Trust in God and everything will be alright,” and you have wondered if you trust enough and if anything will ever be alright again. These are either/or statements. They don’t speak to the reality of what you’re feeling, what you’re struggling through. They also layer feelings of shame and guilt on top of very real human experiences of fear, anxiety, and crisis.

Faith is not the opposite of fear because opposites cannot coexist. For example, it cannot be both cold and hot outside. It cannot be both light and dark. One cannot feel both love and apathy for someone. Yet, faith and fear can coexist, just like rain can fall when the sun is out. It is possible to feel anxious and fearful even while enjoying devotion to and communion with God. God’s presence with us does not take away from the fact we are completely human. At the height of my anxiety, God was no less present than she had been before my anxiety began.

At the same time, we can trust in God while we’re struggling. Our trust won’t take away the struggles. I have a friend who suffered through months of frustrations and anxieties following Hurricane Florence. Another friend, also a faithful Christian, recently felt the painful loss of her beloved sister. Crises still come to the faithful. Sometimes all we can do is allow the cries of our hearts to speak the words we can’t and in the midst of the storm pray earnestly, “Help me believe more. Help me trust more.” It’s not that we don’t believe or trust enough, but we want the reassurance of doing so even more, and we have faith that only God can give this to us. And still, we talk to God. Still, we listen.

We are living in the in-between zone of both/and. We are living in a time when people are genuinely worried about having money to pay next month’s bills even though they are praying and having daily devotionals with their families. There are people who are faithful disciples of God who are very sick. Their families are praying earnestly for their healing even as they feel sad about missing them and worried about their health. This is the reality of the Christian life in this world — an endless tension between our kingdom-oriented hearts and our physical and emotional selves. This is an okay place to be. We’re all here, if we only admit it. And God is here with us, giving us his endless love and grace.

 

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