On a Hairy Issue

      How often do we look in the mirror and think, "Meh, it'll do," or "Darn bedhead," and proceeded with our day giving little thought to the peculiarities of hair?  How strange that we have so little hair on the rest of our bodies, but our head hair grows continuously.  How interesting the way culture's views on hairstyle have changed over the decades and centuries, and sometimes cycled back around.  How fascinating that we gain impressions of people's personalities, cultures, and worth based on their hairstyles.  How amusing that we use hair about as much as facial features to recognize individuals.  How odd the way some people will devote hours to fiddling with their hair—daily, weekly, or for special occasions.  How contentious, the various religious perceptions regarding hair—hiding it, dressing it, cutting it in peculiar ways... something utilitarian may be seen as a hair vanity—even religious tonsure, though it poses as the opposite.
       Have you've ever examined your own "luxurious locks" (a phrase, by the way, that dates back at least to 1855).  Have you spent much time contemplating hair generally?  Coloring, curling, straightening; split ends, burning, breaking; up-dos, crew cuts, mullets (shudder); hair genetics, hair vs. fur, Guinness hair records; hair loss, hair treatments, hair as deer-repellent... and English has numerous hair idioms and expressions, not to mention the ones in other languages!  Clearly this topic has much more range for exploration and discussion than one might think.  Let your hair down and have some fun researching.

On Natural Godliness

Several thoughts crossed my mind as I read Oswald Chambers’ August 21 devotion “The Ministry of the Unnoticed” from My Utmost for His Highest.  He writes, “. . . The true character of the loveliness that speaks for God is always unnoticed by the one possessing that quality. Conscious influence is prideful and unchristian. If I wonder if I am being of any use to God, I instantly lose the beauty and the freshness of the touch of the Lord. ‘He who believes in Me . . . out of his heart will flow rivers of living water’ (John 7:38). And if I examine the outflow, I lose the touch of the Lord. …If we are conscious of our influence, it ceases to have the genuine loveliness which is characteristic of the touch of Jesus.”

I can attest to the truth of this in my own life.  Excessive introspection eventually throws off my perspective and relationship with the Lord—and thus with other people.  This happens because introspection is self-centered, not God-centered.  When I focus on God, instead, the rest (acting right) comes naturally! 

However, the Lord doesn’t always transform ingrained habits of thought overnight; in such cases we may need to keep an eye on part of our inner self until we can trust ourselves to act or react in a godly way.  I would argue further that, on a few occasions, it does help to take a step back to reflect and re-evaluate ourselves from God’s perspective, just to check that no worldly lies have crept undetected into our thinking.  Generally, though, Chambers has the right of it: we need not monitor our inner self as constantly as some do (particularly introverts such as myself).

When I first read Chambers’ words, though, I couldn’t help but think that we’re human, and from time to time we do lose touch and act out of selfishness rather than love and obedience.  If we are conscious of these mistakes, but remain unconscious when we do right, won’t this produce poor self-esteem and despair of pleasing God? 

After some contemplation, I could see that if we remain introspective and only sporadically connected with God, this could be the result.  But with the ideal relationship that Chambers refers to, our focus would return to Christ after we repent of our error.  With our eyes heavenward, we would spare no thought to ourselves, good or bad.  Our self-esteem or self-perception (when the issue comes up) would be based on who we are in Him, not what we’ve done or not done. 

For people who are deeply concerned with the minutiae of their thoughts and actions, worried whether they’re doing enough to please God, triple-checking that their behavior comes across as properly loving and godly to other people, this message is freeing and simple: don’t tie yourself in knots; love and seek and obey the Lord, letting Him fill all your vision.  Then God’s loveliness will shine naturally—and unconsciously—from you onto those you interact with, no introspection required.

“What does the Lord require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)

On Christians and Depression

Note: I've been planning this post since attending a mental health training seminar last year and have finally gotten around to finishing it.  :)

 

“Rejoice in the Lord always,” Paul wrote, adding, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content… I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Phil 4:4, 11b, 13).

What hopeful words!  And indeed, as Christians, we believe we have the greatest hope and helper in the world!  “What right, then,” some believers cry, “has a Christian to be depressed?  Such a person must not have been a real Christian to begin with.”  

Consider, O zealous Christian, that we live in a fallen world and that all, even the saved, are in need of grace—from God, from our fellow Man, and from ourselves.  Christ never promises a life of ease, free of pain and illness after we accept him (John 16:33), but He promises to be with us through it (Heb 13:5b).  So it is with depression.

Consider Elijah--soon after his great victory over the prophets of Baal, he fled Jezebel and became so depressed that he asked God to end his life (1 Kings 19).  Hundreds of years later, Paul wrote, "we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself" (2 Cor 1:8). If these giants of the faith could despair, surely it is entirely possible for a believer to hope in Christ for eternity, yet find hope and love obscured in every other quarter.  The depressed Christian may even be leaning heavily on the Lord all the while; His grace may be the only thing keeping them moving from day to day.  Yet, for whatever reason, despondency persists.  Living, and the idea of "running the race" (Heb 12:1; 1 Cor 9:24), can seem a drudgery.   

(Photo by Sander van der Wel via Wikimedia)

The uninformed also need to understand that clinical depression is quite different from temporary grief or sadness.  It's deeper and more persistent, lasting months or years.  It may certainly start with the usual causes: the death of a loved one, a physical incapacitation, or some other severe trial—but it can also start simply from the common but unabated stress of responsibility and life.  It may be rooted in—or may later cause—a spiritual withdrawal from God, insecurity with one’s identity in Christ, unreasonable expectations for oneself or for other people or events, an unforgiving spirit toward oneself, unbiblical priorities, and a skewed perspective of the world that casts things in a more negative light than they deserve.  Negativity becomes habitual, creating a cycle that's hard to break and leading a depressed person to the lowering expectation that he will always feel this bad, that there's no way out.

Skeptics of clinical depression may choose at this juncture to quote Lincoln: “A man is about as happy as he makes up his mind to be.”  To a great extent, that is true; we don’t have to stick with our gut reaction to events but can consciously choose to perceive them in a more balanced way.  Unfortunately, biology may hinder our mind’s will.  It's well-documented that in clinically depressed people, neurotransmitters fail to transmit the chemicals that influence happy feelings, making it even harder to break the cycle of depression.

Mildly depressed people can certainly slog through their emotions.  They can make themselves eat healthfully, exercise, hang out with friends, pray fervently, relax with music and tasks they used to love, and try to view themselves and their failures in the light of grace.  Sometimes that’s enough to bring them back into emotional equilibrium.  But other people may still feel weighted with lead, their joy muted, especially if they don’t find much affirmation and support from the people around them, or if affirmation is counteracted by criticism from another quarter, including within themselves.  At some point, the struggle to act happy and be happy may seem too futile to continue.  The person may withdraw more and more from society, and at the worst points, a person may not have energy to do anything more than cry in bed or contemplate suicide.  

Even after hearing about the depressed state of mind, some people think censuring will benefit a depressed person!  They think all the person needs is a swift kick in the pants.  Really?  The worst things to say to such a person are “get over it” or “try harder” or “just do ___ and you’ll feel better!”  As if the solution is simple!  It’s likewise counterproductive to shame a depressed person for taking medication or not taking medication, to remind them others have it worse, or to say that they should do things they enjoy and think of happy things.  The implicit or explicit criticisms that the person is not good enough or not doing enough only reinforce the web of depression around them.

More than anything, a depressed person needs affirmation of unconditional love—from their friends and family as well as from God.  They need to hear that their loved ones know who they are, and that they value them despite their failings.  They need to be reminded of reasons to hope and live.  They also desperately need encouragement that these feelings won't last forever.  As George Washington Burnap first said about "the grand essentials to happiness," they need "something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."

Remind the depressed person of Paul's words when he was in a similar situation: "Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many" (2 Cor 1:9-11).

If you know someone with depression, pray for them constantly and invite them to pray with you.  Keep inviting them to go out even when they turn you down, and keep visiting and letting them know you care.  Figure out their love language and give them what input they need to feel more emotionally secure.  You can care without enabling, and you can tell them specific things that bother you, but be aware that your words have power to hurt or build up (see James 3).  Be gentle with your tough love, and most of all patient.  Trust “that in all things—” including depression “—God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28).  "Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer” (Rom. 12:12).

On a Few New Haiku (and Senryu)

Summer means weeding. (Ugh.) And mosquitoes. (Triple ugh.) I tried to use haiku to capture this "ugh-ness":

gardening—

mosquitoes in the coolness

or heatstroke at noon

~~~

(I thought of changing this next one, but realized I liked the play on morning / mourning.)

How unfortunate!

Mosquitoes also like

morning gardens.

Recently, I stayed up past 2 am (whoops) to read a new book. I didn't finish, but burning eyes and droopy eyelids finally convinced me it was time to stop (for a few hours, anyway). That incident inspired the following two senryu:

Reading—

time suspends itself

in ambush

~~~

A new book—

such a late hour, but

only the cat snores. (And it's such a funny snore, too!)



As I was reading, one of those teeny green grasshoppery things spent some time hopping between my blanket, wall, and lamp cover. (...One quick Google search later—the creature is a leafhopper, from the family Cicadellidae.   The one I saw looks most similar to the subfamilies(?) Iassine, Empoasca, or Balclutha.) The little fellow became the mental trigger—though clearly not the subject—of the next poem: 

Drawn to the flame and

blind to the open window—

Tragically unsaved.


I wrote this next one in honor of a friend of mine. By God's grace, she turned away from substance abuse to serve Christ, and one of the turning points happened when God sent a downpour on her birthday. Ever since, she's prayed for rain on that day and looks forward to it more than any other gift. She's gotten it each year. :) I made several attempts to convey her story in haiku form, and I like this the best—in part because of the multiple meanings of "clean" (literal, idiomatic, and spiritual).

Another year clean—

she praises the Lord
for her birthday rain.