Delayed "Sad"ification

     Today our youngest left home to move to Billings and I feel embarrassingly sad about it. He is 30 years old, and I should have gone through this withdrawal years ago, but I didn't have to. He did not go away to college, so I missed the major mourning I experienced with his siblings. He moved out of our house years ago, but was never far from home. Typical for a youngest child, he is very attached to home. And typical for a mother, my youngest is always my baby in my heart. His G.I. Joes are still in a box in the basement. But a lot of the problem is that he has lived with us for the past year. Shortly after he was discharged from Rimrock last October for health concerns, he moved back in with us. Two surgeries later and one adrenal gland short, a year had passed. I enjoyed having another mouth to feed. Reed enjoyed working with him out at the airport. And although we hated the relapses that turned us from being his parents into his sober police, after years of worry, we finally knew when he was safe and sober at night. Our nest was no longer empty.
     It was good for us, but we knew he needed more than an alcohol free zone and to spend all his time with his parents. He needed sobriety he could maintain outside of our home and sober friends to spend time with. He is returning to live in sober housing and attend IOP, intensive outpatient treatment, to continue the progress he made at Rimrock. He is doing exactly what he needs to do and what both we and his counselor wanted to happen. He is the one moving into a house full of strangers and leaving all that is familiar, including his dogs, behind. Tracy has a hard time leaving Kalispell for a day trip to Missoula, I knew this would be hard for him, but how can I convince my sad mother's heart to listen to my logical head. I am feeling the sorrow I would have felt years ago if Tracy had moved for school or marriage like his siblings, what our parents felt when we left. I am just feeling it on the delay cycle. I might envy those parents whose kids never leave their hometown, but distance is not always geographical, and the other kind is much harder to fix.
     So the good news is, my guest room will be just the way I like it, our grocery budget will be smaller, and we can retire as sober police. The bad news is--everything else. Our nest is empty. And so, for a time, is that final third of my heart that had been waiting for mourning.

Unsettled Science

    In old horror movies scientists are often pictured as lab coat wearing men of independent means, paying their minions out of their personal fortune so they can pursue their peculiar scientific passions. Though we recognize that as ridiculous, somehow we still think the money for scientific research comes from wealthy philanthropists who want nothing in return--except possibly lab coats. The truth is, research institutes have corporate sponsors and competition for independent grants is cutthroat. When your dietary research is funded by say, Cheetos, you are highly motivated to conclude Cheetos are a daily nutritional need.
     Besides the desire to satisfy sponsors, scientists know that finding the biggest, oldest, or most unique ___________ practically guarantees fame and funding. No scientist wants to be the discoverer of, for example, a fossilized spork. So if they dig up such a thing, they quickly undiscover it. In addition, scientist or not, all data is interpreted through a paradigm--a set of assumptions. For many years the prevailing paradigm has been evolution. Scientific evidence that doesn't support evolution is either black-listed from mainstream publications or ridiculed like the science nerds themselves had been ridiculed in junior high, minus the swirlies. The new paradigm is global warming--particularly human caused global warming. If global warming, which objective evidence admits has been happening for 10,000 years, is man-caused, it opens a huge marketing opportunity for products to reduce greenhouse gases. Not to mention the political power that America forgoing fossil fuels would give nations who can't currently compete economically with ours. That is great incentive for climatologists to pick their data like unnaturally warm cherries.
    But editing evidence is not necessarily sinister. We do the same thing. You don't see many family Christmas photos posed in front of an open bathroom door. For pictures, we like to appear in the best light possible. During arguments, we choose to only mention things that support our position. Same goes for science. That is why viewing science through rose colored telescopes needs to go to that great ozone hole in the sky.  Science cannot be settled because it is not objective. And that makes our current worship of science a little unsettling.

The Altitude of Our Attitude

     I no longer worry when I have periods of time that I have no desire to write. Hobby bloggers get writer's hump, not block. I won't get threats from my sponsors or hate mail from my three followers. To borrow from an ad campaign--Sometimes you write like a nut, sometimes you don't. Expressing myself in writing is just one of my several coping mechanisms. But perhaps, this is a good time to dip my digital pen back in internet ink. We have just finished Family Week at Rimrock Addiction Treatment. Second year in a row. Same time of year. But this time, Tracy got to stay the full 29 days, instead of getting discharged for medical reasons two weeks in, as happened last fall.
     Years ago I had a dear friend old enough to be my grandmother. I wanted to be like her when I grew up and, lately, God has given me the chance. Elsie's guiding philosophy as she moved from her big Iowa farmhouse to a small senior apartment in Kalispell and, eventually, a nursing home, was: "It's not what I would have chosen, but that's the way it is so I'll make the best of it." And she did. Her smile was like a billboard for the joy of the Lord. At her funeral, some of her care providers from the nursing home were more distraught than the family.
     To weld those two disparate paragraphs together, although attending Family Week in Billings, Montana is not my first, or even eleventh, choice for a vacation, I fully intended to make the best of it. God sovereignly arranged for us to have enough Marriott points to spend five nights in a large, fireplace suite at a wonderful Residence Hotel for free. Not only that, but Monday through Wednesday they provide a free dinner and, every night, free cookies. We are spending an additional night in Billings, so today we moved to the Hilton Homewood, where we have enough points to stay in a one bedroom suite for $70. So, despite being at Rimrock from 8:30 to 4 or 5 p.m. (minus lunch) Monday through Thursday, we still had plenty of time to enjoy our nice hotel. After dinner, we sat around a gas firebox in the courtyard, flames licking through what looked like broken glass. My sister, who watches HGTV, assures me that is a thing now. Since the Homewood doesn't provide dinner on Fridays, we may be forced to eat at one of Billings nice restaurants tonight, like Olive Garden. (Red Lobster was last night.)
     Even my husband, for whom the glass is always half-full (and probably contains poison), was unable to maintain his bad attitude and began to enjoy the trip. When a loved one is an addict, finding moments of joy may be like dancing between the raindrops, but as I recognize the sovereignty of God in my life, I have found that the showers are scattered, and the sky mostly sunny. We spent our days here in the company of wonderful people--including the addicts. The shared bond of addiction deepens relationships quickly. Then we suffered through our evenings at fine hotels. If that is a sacrifice I'm making for our alcoholic son, please punish me again. God sends just enough rain to make us grow. Whether we view that as a blessing or a blight depends on the altitude of our attitude.
    

Okay, We Tried It Your Way

Dear Tree Huggers,

     We tried it your way. Decades of your lawsuits claiming the best way to protect the forests and their inhabitants is to neglect them, have brought us our current season of rampant forest fires throughout the West. High temperatures and drought may be the sparks that started the blaze, but you supplied the fuel. Decades of neglect have left our forests unhealthy infernos waiting to happen. You have protected the trees and animals you claim to love to death. It is like protecting a child from abuse by burning down his house--with him in it. And, to add insult to injury, at the end of an August of historic forest fires, another lawsuit was filed to "protect" another Montana forest from the evils of logging. Your concerns about environmental impact seem to only go one way.
     And this destruction of millions of acres is largely ignored by national news because it is not politically correct to show the inevitable result of decades of anti-logging lawsuits. Even those who blame global warming must realize that the 1 - 2 degree temperature change that might be man caused would make little difference when lightning strikes a forest full of unhealthy trees and deadfall. Leaving the forests in this unsafe condition is arson, no matter who supplies the match.
    We are sick of seeing the land we love go up in smoke. We are sick of seeing much needed lumber go to waste. You even sue to prevent the burned, but salvageable, trees from being harvested. And those falling trees have been killing the firefighters who risk their lives fixing your handiwork. And some of us are just plain sick. I count myself lucky to only get nauseating migraines from the smoke, though I have had to stay inside for weeks or it would be much worse. I am angry that my three month old granddaughter has to try to breathe this sludge. People are losing their health, homes, livelihoods and lives to these fires. Put that in your environmental impact statement. Post a bond for damages. Take responsibility. 
     I am no longer praying for rain. I want the fires to linger long enough that when activists sue to protect the forests from efforts that would mitigate the risk, this firestorm will be fresh in our national consciousness. The smell of smoke that used to bring to mind relaxing around a campfire, now symbolizes sickness and sorrow and loss.  Leave managing the forests to the service created for that purpose and the people who live by them or there won't be any trees left for you to hug. We tried it your way. It not only didn't work--it went up in smoke.

Stalking Sovereignty

    I have blogged previously about my addiction to the method of Bible passage analysis called homiletics. I could be president of the Homiletics Fan Club, if I could find any other fans. Since last year's BSF study was John and next year is Romans, starting my summer doing homiletics on a chapter a day of Acts was a no-brainer. But there was still a lot of summer left. I wanted to study something to do with God's sovereignty, but a word study wouldn't work. Sovereignty isn't even in my Strong's KJV concordance, and much of God's sovereign control of events appears in chapters and books where God isn't even mentioned--like Esther. I have an excellent study book on sovereignty written by Jerry Bridges, but it hasn't been long since I finished that and, even I, cannot forget that quickly. Without my precious homiletics, I was adrift.
     So I decided to begin at the beginning, Genesis, where God's activity is far from behind the scenes. I still read a chapter a day, and if I'm not paying attention, I lapse into homiletics without noticing it. My method, like myself, is simple. I stalk sovereignty throughout the passage, write down the instances, add thoughts about the passage I find interesting--like Lot's irresistible rescue from Sodom. Clearly, God does not take no for an answer. Then I look for an application. Most of mine start with:  How does knowing God is sovereign over __________ help me with __________ I am experiencing today? Then I spend a few minutes praying and meditating on that truth. Not profound. And, sadly, not homiletics, but it is good to know I am capable of a topical study and the applications have been extremely helpful lately. My needs matching God's truth seem to be a recurring side effect of Bible study. Oh wait, that's called sovereignty.
    

Small Talk

     I love visiting with other Christians but the truth is, most of the time, we make the same small talk with them that we could with a virtual stranger at the grocery store--kids, health, weather, what we are doing.  In smaller settings, we may share more intimately--struggles, prayer needs, what we are feeling. But there are very few places a Christian can share openly what Christ is doing in their life. At church we are all "fine". At prayer meeting we share only about health needs, safe travel, maybe a decision about a job or buying a house. No one shares their besetting sins, financial struggles, prodigals.
     So it is very nice to be able to let my spiritual hair down at BSF, in small group, with my prayer partner, and with my mother-in-law. I can take off the mask most of us wear in public and share a truth the Spirit has illuminated through my Bible study or whispered in my heart. With those few I am comfortable sharing my struggles with being a submissive wife, critical thoughts about others, trying to control my portion of the universe.  Christians need times and places for "Show and Tell". To show what we are really like, to tell the truth when we are not fine. I am glad to have those people and places in my life, and one of them is this blog. Humor pops in and out as a welcome visitor, humility is still a far off goal, but honesty is I can do here and now. There are plenty of other places for small talk.

I Would Like to Think

     Recently I had two major events going on at the same time. One was wonderful. One was hard. Both the occasions and the timing of them were part of God's sovereign plan. While I was in Missoula celebrating my Dad's 90th birthday, my husband was at home dealing with our son's relapse. Though his binge was well funded and serious, I was not feeling stressed, though it seemed I should be.

    I would like to think it was because:

•  through decades of experiencing God's faithfulness, I have learned to trust Him.
•  I increasingly rest in the safety of God's sovereignty.
•  I trusted God's timing in having me in Missoula and Reed at home.
•  I see even the setbacks as part of a larger plan.
•  I knew my husband could grow through handling it without me.
•  God provided the distraction of the birthday celebration and intended for me to enjoy it. 
•  The Bible repeatedly demonstrates that God uses sin just as easily as obedience to accomplish His purpose.
•  our recent study of "Trusting God, Even When Life Hurts", strengthened my faith.
•  I am growing up spiritually.                                

     I was not too upset about the obnoxious drunk who kept getting into our house because he is a stranger to me. I don't even know him. I certainly did not want him at our family party, either drunk or hung over. But when my sober son asked his dad when they were leaving for Missoula, that broke my heart, because that was my son talking, and I really wanted my son to be there. Blackout had stolen an entire day from his life. And God used that to break his heart and help him on the path to sobriety.  We are all responsible for our own actions, but we are fools to think we are revising God's plans because of them. With guidance from his addiction counselor, we are following a plan for relapse. I am not stressed, but I find myself reluctant to share that with other Christians. Almost as if I need to apologize for not carrying my share of the stress load.  I would like to think a Christian at peace is the norm, not the exception.