Some Thoughts on Nuclear Fission

I’ve been thinking a lot about nuclear fission lately and how I don’t have any. I know that is a strange thing to think about, but it’s not so weird when you realize that “nuclear fission” is my code word for “emotional stability.” In recent months, I’ve come to grips with the fact that I am about as emotionally stable as a dust bunny on a histamine blocker. (I know it doesn’t make sense, but neither do my emotions and that’s my point, isn’t it?) Perhaps the depth of my problem became clearest to me when I felt a deep emotional attachment to our toaster and the relationship became volatile. To be fair, she was intentionally being obstinate, but I digress. The thesis of this paragraph is “I am too emotional,” just in case it was unclear.

As a form of normalizing my deep and tenuous emotions, I have decided to regard my state as “passionate” instead of “emotional” because it seems more, well… manly that way. At any rate, my emotions are as likely to accuse my friends of being the worst sort of liars and cheats as to warmly embrace them as dear allies. Of my many emotional stabilizers (or “addictions” as my therapist calls them, but what does he know?), perhaps my favorite is emotional dependency. Let me explain. Emotional Dependency, or “Ed”, as I affectionately call him, is what happens when one places one’s emotional state in the hands of others people’s actions.

Take the following for example: This is me with a healthy outlook: “I’m quite certain that my friends do not hate me and wish my immediate demise. And I know that, in God’s timing, I will likely find my soulmate and, to the chagrin of some, reproduce. Amen.” This, however, is me with an unhealthy outlook: “OH MY GAWD! THEY DIDN’T INVITE ME?! WHY DID I EVER TRUST THEM IN THE FIRST PLACE? YOU KNOW, LOOKING BACK I CAN SEE THAT OUR ‘FRIENDSHIP’ HAS ONLY BEEN A CONCERTED EFFORT TO DESTROY ME FROM THE BEGINNING. I WANT TO DIE!”

Now, rationally, a Person of Emotional Health might look over the sum of their relationships and recognize that they are not being singled out by a secret group that meets on Thursdays to discuss ways to bring them down to their grave in desolation, but I am not a Person of Emotional Health. Hence, I am more often left tumbling in the hot dryer of emotions until they run out and some sense of sanity returns. This usually involves a long bike ride or an unhealthy stint of screaming to someone about how my life has been a waste of molecules. After that, some form of sanity will return to me and I will recognize that my emotional health does not reside in the treatment I receive from the people around me but in my One True Addiction: God.

Of all the things I’ve gone to for comfort over the years, the most frustrating and most reliable is God. He, unlike most people, can handle my volatile emotions and still loves me despite the screaming and cursing. We are working out a system where he loans me one of his people to remind me that my emotions, while important, are not indicators of reality and that he is still there when I feel overwhelmed by feelings. He also gave me this book called Psalms to read forcefully. Have you read that thing lately? I thought I was crazy...

Jennifer Knapp, Gay Christian?

This morning my roommate asked me if I had heard that Jennifer Knapp came out of the closet as a lesbian this week. I had heard. And I had read her interview. And frankly, I was relieved to see that she was willing to wrestle with God and her sexuality without giving up on either.

On one side of the debate, I hear pro-gay proponents saying to follow your sexuality at all costs and if God is love he will accept you. While it is true that God will accept you, there are some issues with following sexuality alone. On the other side, some Christians say that we are defined by Christ and not sexuality. While it is true that we are defined by Christ, there are issues with denying our sexuality. God has created us as sexual beings and the feelings we experience must be attended to in the process of becoming a whole person in Christ.

I don’t have time to tell you everything I am not saying by what I am saying, but please notice that I did not say that the feelings need to be acted upon, but attended to. As John Calvin said at the beginning of The Institutes of Christian Religion: “There is no deep knowing of God without a deep knowing of self and no deep knowing of self without a deep knowing of God.”

It is encouraging to see a public figure who is able to honestly admit her sexuality, while still clinging to God. I know too many people who have walked away from their relationship with God because of their homosexual feelings and, if nothing else, she has stayed open to God during this process instead of walking away.

As a lust-addicted, people-pleasing, manipulative, judgmental, consumeristic, prideful Christian, I’m sure that I can scoot my bloated ego over to make room for a gay Christian at God’s Table and let God work through our broken lives together.

Forgiveness Sucks.

Recently a very close friend hurt me significantly, making me want to run away from the friendship - something God has forbidden me to do. Another close friend asked what it would look like for me to forgive him. I said something about him acknowledging my pain and asking for forgiveness.

“That is restoration, not forgiveness,” said this stand-in for God.

Forgiveness. Well, crap. That means giving up my right to hurt him back. I hated that.

--

Later the same day, the friend I wanted to hurt back asked if I wanted to talk.

Talk?

I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk with God and release my right to hurt him back! I couldn’t talk to him. Not yet! I wanted to pray in safety with God. I was not ready for the prayer of talking to this person I was struggling to trust.

“Talk to him. This is what forgiveness looks like,” said God.

“Shut up, God! I thought you were on my side,” I said. This was much too fast. What about my chance to savor my anger? What about feeling all forgivenessy?

God won the argument, of course.

During the ensuing conversation, my friend - he of the conflict - began to tell me how hard the situation was for him! Well, now. I was ready to forgive him if he exhibited True Repentance and Amendment of Life. But, this?! Oh, hell no.

“Are you willing to release your right to hurt him back?” asked God.

“Shut up!” I said.

“It’s Easter,” God said, because it actually was. “You know, all that I-forgave-your-rebellion-so-we-can-have-relationship stuff?”

“Shut up!” I said, “I don’t like where this conversation is leading.”

“…” said God, with a meaningful look. (Well, metaphorically)

“Good point,” I complained.

So, I killed that part of me that wanted to hurt him back. I listened and acknowledged his pain, then I shared my own. We put down our swords and rights to hurt each other back. Our perspectives were changed and something shifted deep inside us. The conflict that threatened to divide us became a glue that held us together. We forgave and were better for it.

Which is good since we will spend eternity together and all that avoiding eye contact and taking a different Street of Gold would get awkward after a few millennia.

Frustrations With Gravity and Other Reflections on Control

It has recently come to my attention that I tend to be a bit controlling of my external circumstances. I think the problem became most clear when I got mad at gravity for keeping me bound to the Earth.

“You have a problem,” God said.

Yes, I have a problem, I admitted, entering myself into the first stage of recovery.

Last Thursday morning, I innocently typed “God, please help me to release control of my life” into my journal, forgetting that He tends to take these requests literally. I had envisioned an internal feeling urging me to let go, or maybe a theophany in which Christ would appear and explain to me the virtues of living more freely. Neither of those things happened.

After journalling, my visiting brother dropped me off at an elementary school where I tutor a little guy and left with my car. I suggested that he (my brother) not run off too far because my 3 1/2 foot friend tends to skip school a lot and I didn’t want to be stuck running the halls of a primary school with no purpose. Within seconds of entering the building, I was informed that my buddy was absent so I bolted back outdoors to catch my brother, only to see my car disappearing around the corner. So, I called him and it went straight to voice mail. I called him again. And again. And again. 36 times, I called him. Yes, 36. I told you I have a problem.

A mature person would have noticed the connection between the situation before them and the prayer muttered moments before. I am not a mature person. I ranted and raved at my brother for not leaving his phone on after I explicitly said I might need a ride. I steamed and cursed. I seethed and foamed. Yes, foamed. That might have been the bite from the neighbor’s dog, but still I foamed.

Finally, the irony of the situation hit me and I screamed “THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT, GOD!”

But, it seems that God is not really concerned about what I mean in my prayers and is just busily doing what is good for me. So, I guess I will have to continue to abide by the Law of Gravity and release my illusions of control.

I’m beginning to doubt if I have a choice.