mental health

The Marriage Connoisseur, Chapter 3

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance.” – Epicurus

Chapter 3–Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Whose Plan is This, Anyway?

            Make a plan!  Set a goal!  Get up at 5:00!  Better still, at 4:00!  I made my plan and it was a good one.  And then our guest showed up three hours early.  And there was a big thunderstorm which drove my loved ones indoors.  Next my daughter called asking me to call the sheriff’s office about cows on the highway.

            All these things went away, and my son decided to come inside and dry off over coffee with me, this after my husband cooked a late breakfast and clearly wanted and indeed needed my help with a crossword and for me to join him at breakfast.

            Flexibility is a great attribute, as opposed to being married to a plan, which will often end in throwing up our hands and forgetting the whole thing.  Whether we’re trying to write a book or read one, we can take what I call a “sneaky view” of interruptions.

            By that I mean envisioning ourselves as navigating all these things, still arriving at our destination, but richer for the delays.  This requires a bit of getting alone and thinking things out.  “I won’t tell anyone, no one will know that things aren’t going to plan,” I whisper to myself.  “I’m not the least bit put off by this, because I’m way too cool to be derailed by this.  I’ll just take another route.”  Just as when you forsake the interstates for the backroads, there are creativity and joy boosters all along the way. 

            So, rather than being upset, I am looking at having coffee with my son, and being wanted by my husband as good things.  Very good things.  How can I incorporate the feeling of this unexpected blessing (see what I called it) into my writing?  What can I learn?  Shall I take a walk now, or go back to writing?

            There are, of course, those times when I have to build stronger than usual structures for my plan.  For instance, on this particular morning I could have shut myself up in my room with an announcement to beloveds:  Please do not disturb unless the house is on fire, and even then, do so at your own risk.  I could have told them I’m way behind where I hoped to be by this time, and I’m off to a coffee shop where no one knows my name, and by the way, don’t call me even if the house is on fire.

            I can turn off my phone, ignore the house phone and forget about e-mails and excellent writing tutorials.  Even if I only sit on the balcony with a cup of tea (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) and read Georgette Heyer (it’s writing training) or do nothing at all (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) it’s a step in my life dance, made more rhythmic and interesting via being unplanned.

            However . . . if these feelings of frustration and desperation become commonplace, and there’s no use trying to put any spin on it besides pure aggravation and defeat, I know it’s time to take a thing or two off the table.  Literally, in my case.  It’s time to back off of some of the cooking.  It’s time to do what makes me more creative, simple things such as making the bed and taking a walk–and to stop trying to be Doer of All Things.  It’s time for more time with the Author and Finisher of my Faith, the Giver of Grace–unforced rhythms of grace. 

            Because for me, it really is all about family.  And they (especially my beau) only need me to be happy—in a  state of grace.  Amen. 

What is this Burden?

            Real men don’t whine–John qualifies.  But when the burdens get heavy, unless I’m too wrapped up in my own self, I can sense things are amiss.  Then, contrary to popular opinion, it’s not time for advice, thinly veiled criticism, or even getting mad on his behalf at whoever or whatever is causing him grief. 

            It’s time, rather, to just be a bit closer and softer, a little nicer and kinder, and stay tuned.             

Women Often Lament . . .

            Women often lament about things that just aren’t so.  Homemakers, for instance, in thinking that their husbands have all the fun “going off” to work while they’re “stuck at home,” are buying lies heaped upon lies.  There is very little fun about making a living as done by most men.  Most men quietly answer to endless aggravations and often ulcer-producing work situations.  There are unreasonable and demanding bosses, office politics, senseless rules and regulations, intolerable co-workers, thankless and creativity-killing tasks, mind-numbing commutes, and the sense that they’re little different than hampsters on a wheel, with no end in sight.

            On what mountain of insanity did women decide it would be better to have what men have?  Having worked as men work—as a carpenter’s helper growing up and later for John in a similar capacity, I can tell you women’s work is not harder.  It’s just different, and thank God for that!

            Am I being “old fashioned” and setting women back a century?  No.  But I would like to set us back about 60 years, at least in some areas.  How lovely to have the time of day, presence of mind, order, freedom from endless distractions, and the energy for hospitality and family trips as did many of the women of my mom’s generation.        As I am not a fan of wishful thinking, I submit that we can have much of that again, by beginning to be honest about what’s in our hearts, and what we truly want (hint:  it’s not to be what we aren’t, which is men).

Another Lament

            Women often lament that their husbands don’t open up, won’t talk about things.  Some of that is because, as I said, real men don’t whine; some is because they just need to work through some things; some because they didn’t have such a good outcome the last time they opened up.

            It’s a challenge that must be met not to treat husbands as kids.  It doesn’t matter if they sometimes act quite similar.  They aren’t.  Another challenge is to remember who they are—fearfully and wonderfully made children of the Most High, and deserving of honor, consideration and respect, whether they act like it or not.

            We reap what we sow.

Suggested Reading:  Matthew 11:28-30, The Message.

Key to Victory:  Read aloud Luke 21:19 and pray it over yourself as a declaration.

Music:  Psalms sung by you.  I dare you—try it, I mean infused with your very own self, your very own love.

Thoughts and Prayers:

The Marriage Connoisseur, Chapter 4

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“Extravagance is the fear of poverty and the need for attention.  Discretion is the fear of nothing and the need of nothing.” – Byron Tully in The Old Money Book—How to Live Better While Spending Less

Chapter 4–It’s Not Fun, But it Must Be Done

Respecting Your Money                                      

In the life-enhancing, joy-bringing book, An Italian Journey by James Ernest Shaw is this truth: “Spending money for things we don’t need also makes us think we can’t afford to pay a fair price for things of precious value–like healthful food, great art, and inspired entertainment that celebrates mankind’s creative spirit.”

This can be seemingly insignificant purchases, but oh, they are not! The curious thing is how we think we’re saving money at the big box store where tomatoes are half the price of those at the farm stand, not noticing that the big box tomatoes aren’t edible, while the farm stand tomatoes call our names with their scent before we can even see them. Everything about shopping at the farm stand satisfies. The price is only a part of good money management.

We think it’s good money management to choose the BOGO sale and yet wonder how we come home without what we need and after spending well beyond what we planned. We wrongly equate a full pantry with prosperity, even though it’s full of things we’d be better off without.

Right now my pantry and freezers hold mixtures of things we’ll eat and things we’ll throw out. It is the old case of careless spending, rather than careful, focused, thoughtful purchasing of quality goods. It’s the rewarding of the bigger-but-not-better guys at the expense of the purveyors of quality, and at the expense of ourselves.

This is a big deal. I’m not at all talking about big business vs. small. I’m talking about quality vs. quantity, about the huge expense of going cheap, about cheating yourself and your family via spending your money on fluff.

And fluff makes us fluffy. Fluff is energy bars, instant oatmeal, dry cereal with cheap skim milk, microwave mac-n-cheese, corn syrup and sugar-filled drinks, 30-ingredient “snacks” and “treats” and other such fakiness. Expensive on every level. The richest people in the world can’t afford this.

The Richest People in the World

The richest people in the world respect their money.  Contrary to popular opinion and stories about Scrooge, or the evils of Mr. Banks (in Mary Poppins) in working his tail off so his family had the luxury of whining about it, many people who have money don’t worship it, and aren’t greedy with it. 

I can present plenty of evidence, both in personal experience and through extensive research to support this statement, but that is not the issue at hand. The issue at hand is the scriptural mandate that we be good stewards of our money, and one very important reason for this is that it shuts the door on many marital issues.

We all have money attitudes and beliefs from our upbringing, education, and life experiences, but if they don’t serve us they need to go!  And lest you forget it, here’s one of many such reminders—don’t be looking at what the other person is doing wrong, just get your own act right.  Now.  Right now.  It’s a glorious feeling to see how quickly money piles up when you stop spending it.  All those things we thought we couldn’t do without—try just postponing them for a bit and see how smug you feel.

Blowing the Deal

If my husband reads this, he will likely hope I’m taking my own words to heart. Well, I am. This is a big deal.  And I’m not blowing the deal with tit for tat.  Once upon a time, not so long ago as I’d like it to have been, I complained about something he spent money on.  “I don’t think you want to go there,” he said.

Well, I didn’t and I did.  I did want to take his statement, his implied accusation, and carefully examine it.  No, that’s not quite right.  I didn’t want to, I needed to.  And I did, painful though it was.  I went from a “fine, see if I spend another dime and have fun living on pinto beans” attitude, to one a bit more fruitful. 

It’s a process, this path to victory, but we never arrive if we won’t even consider considering the ever-so-remote possibility that we might, just maybe, need to make a bit of a change.

So, be it money or anything else that’s causing even a little bit of thorniness in our down-filled nests, it must be dealt with for what it is—a big deal.  Pray it out, think it out, talk it out, walk it out–but don’t blow the money deal!

Suggested Reading:  The Old Money Book by Byron Tully

Keys to Victory:  Respect your money, but don’t be mastered by it.

Music:  Just Another Woman in Love by Anne Murray

Thoughts and Prayers:

Don’t Label Your Narcissist

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

There’s a ton of good stuff out there about narcissism, but let’s be like good parents dealing with trying children.  Just say “No.” Good parenting is not enabling destructive behavior.  Enabling is easy, like any sin.  You just bow to the sin. 

Years ago I got enough of a narcissist in my life and when I crossed this person they came at me, fists clenched.  I stood my ground.  “Go ahead,” I said.  “Hit me.”  That stopped them.  I then said, “Nothing I ever do is right.  Nothing I do is good enough.”

In other words, I stopped performing, stopped being manipulated, stopped responding.

The most unkind thing we can do to a  narcissist is dance to their tune.  We, as the more “well” person in the relationship, are called to put on a new song.  They can learn to sing along, or they can get along.

Someone, telling me about someone else being mad, as though that was important, was happily surprised when I said, “He can get glad in the same clothes he got mad in.”  I have to not care.  I have to be healed, set free, even delivered of the  need to please, to keep the peace. 

It seems to me that narcissistic adults are, just like brat two-year-olds, begging for someone to draw some boundaries, help them learn to behave and therefore get along in this life. 

But labels—no.  Once you decide your mom, mate, boss, friend, or pastor is a narcissist, you will see everything they think, do and say through that lens.  YOU ARE JUDGING AND WHAT YOU JUDGE WILL, IN SOME FORM OR FASHION, COME ON YOU.  You will see them as fatally flawed, and just someone to leave in the dust.  You will stop praying for them, stop letting God have say-so, and lose all your power.

So examine the relationship.  Where have you enabled?  When have you bowed to their nonsense because you’re afraid of a bit of conflict? 

Isn’t it disgusting when you see moms asking permission from a toddler  for the day’s activity?  And when she tries to give him whatever he wants to stop the whining, does he stop?  No, he whines all the more, and eventually starts yelling and screaming.  He’s absolutely begging for some non-negotiable boundaries, for someone he can trust to help him be a better person. 

Well, you can’t spank your neighbor, or your mate, right?  No, but you can get to the end of your rope, stop trying the tired things you’ve been trying for ever, and that have never and will never work.

Oh, you wanna back up to that spanking part?  You want to so self-righteously tell me you don’t believe in “hitting” your child.  Well, if you think spanking is hitting, you definitely should not spank, but that’s for another time.    

So, don’t call your kid a brat, don’t call your mate a narcissist.  Call yourself brave and wise and finished with the nonsense.

And remember this:  We often see in others what we dislike in ourselves.  Yes, that gal in the mirror may be a work in progress as well.  Let’s just all get out of God’s way, and get in His ways.  Can I get an Amen?  Amen!

Talking to myself today, because when I start listening to too much YouTube  and getting all  brilliant about everyone else’s issues, I can really get all up in God’s business, and forget all about love and forgiveness, and walking in all the fruits of the Spiritl. INSTEAD I just get miserable, mad, and pathetic.  Like a two-year-old or a narcissist who needs the “gift of No” and maybe a nap. (I HEARD ABOUT THE GIFT OF NO FROM TIM HAWKINS.)

Think of that when that person is being impossible.  What’s really going on?  What do they really need from you?  It’s not enabling, that much is for sure. 

But it’s also not getting all in the flesh because you’re the latest expert on narcissism and you’re going to tell them off right this minute.  Pray and wait.  God really wants to help us all, deliver us all, set us all free to enjoy each other.

This will help:  Think of a new label, and make it one you want TO SEE BECOME REALITY.  Your two-year-old, because of your excellent training, is “a fine young man”, for instance.  Your drama queen teenager is a “deep and good-hearted woman IN THE MAKING”, your know-it-all grouch husband is a “Dearly Beloved Child of God.”

Someone in my house called someone else in my house “such an ass” and I said, “Do not call my child names.”  So, how about we just, as I said in the beginning of this diatribe, stop with the labeling.  It doesn’t help at all.  It harms. STOP WITH THE FINGER POINTING, AND PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER AND LIFT YOUR EYES—GETTING THEM OFF NARCISSISTIC BEHAVIOR AND ON THE HEALING LOVE OF JESUS.

Hooray for Insomnia

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I was hoping it was at least 3:00 a.m. It was 1:30. But that was OK actually, and here’s why: I had put my jeans and writing shirt (more on that later) out before bed, right along with my water, Bible, scribble book, journal, pens and highlighers, and devotions. I was ready to sneak into John’s office (where the chairs are comfy and the computer cooperative) and have myself a little time with Jesus. Remember the song? So let us have a little talk with Jesus, let us tell Him all about our troubles . . .

I did have some troubles, as I woke from a disturbing dream and wanted to make sense of it, if sense could be made. But those troubles went away pretty quickly as I prayed and then found great teaching on YouTube.

It took a while to get through 2.5 sermons (I’ve paused in the middle of the third sermon to write this post) because I was taking notes, pausing to pray, pausing to sing scripture to God (I don’t sound all that bad and I know He likes my singing. I just know.) I also paused to pass on a sermon to people I think/hope will be blessed.

And let me admit it. I also passed it on to someone I think needs it. As do I. Especially the parts about remaining strong in such a time as this. How? Via meditating on the Word of God. Again, how? Well, let’s begin by saying it’s not how I recently heard a success guru say he does it–he “meditates” ten minutes.

Psalm 1:1-3 is helpful: Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful; But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law he meditates day and night. (That’s verses 1 and 2–I’ll leave you to see this man’s reward in verse 3.)

Here’s most of what the Word Wealth in my Bible says–“meditates” hagah (hah-gah; Strong’s #1897: to reflect; to on, to mutter; to ponder; to make a quiet sound such as sighing; to meditate or contemplate something as one repeats the words. Hagah represents something quite unlike the English “meditation,” which may be a mental exercise only. In Hebrew thought, to meditate upon the Scriptures is to quietly repeat them in a soft, droning sound, while utterly abandoning outside distractions. From this tradition comes a specialized type of Jewish prayer called “davening,” that is, reciting texts, praying intense prayers, or getting lost in communion with God while bowing or rocking back and forth. Evidently this dynamic form of meditation-prayer goes back to David’s time.

This is how we receive the Biblical promise of a renewed mind. I, for one, am in great and continual need of this. I think thoughts and act ways I don’t agree with! They’re not the real me. They’re distortions and deceptions based on the lies of my enemy. But they’re always decreasing in power as God’s power overcomes through Biblical meditation.

I think I won’t call it insomnia, which implies being unable, but wanting, to sleep. I think I’ll call it a wee hours assignation with the Lover of my soul. Hooray for Hagah!

Zero For Six TV is Play

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

It’s not deprivation! Not watching makes us more childlike, more apt to play. I find myself delving into old joys, thinking new thoughts, considering forgotten possibilities, simply because I’ve freed my mind from the tyranny of watching.

When I’m not watching a fake world I take in my own. I hear the wild turkeys in the yard, come to see the goldfinch when someone exclaims at its beauty, listen for the lovely sound of the blackbirds. I see the cottontail munch, munch, much stems of grass, sing him a bit of a song and watch his ears twitch as he listens. I’m noting the scent of my beloved’s soap on his skin, of the juniper and sage on the breeze, of the lemon curd just cooked. I’m listening to what plays when I try “Romantic music for daydreaming.” I’m listening to my beloveds. I’m hearing the music of life, and life becomes musical.

When I’m not watching, I’m gracefully and rhythmically getting through those little details cluttering my life, thus freeing my mind for larger and deeper thoughts. Or simply thoughts of play, maybe like being in a play, or learning the rules for Charades and having a tea party. A proper English tea, perhaps, as I share Queen Elizabeth’s 23 rules for living (including play) from Bryan Kazlowski’s Long Live the Queen, and dream . . .

If I can’t go to England right now, I muse, maybe I’ll read James Herriot, or P.G. Wodehouse, or Agatha Christie, sipping Earl Grey. Maybe I’ll nap like a baby all afternoon, and stay up all night, and see what I can get up to . . .

We’re meant to play.