On the Body

I recently started a “beachbody” 10-day challenge to kick-start a change of lifestyle toward eating better and being more active. Also as an Orthodox Christian, I am in the middle of a fasting period where I don’t eat meat or dairy (essentially a vegan diet). Both of these “challenges” have made me take a good long look at how I view my body.

I know I should eat "right" and exercise. I haven’t done that – I just haven’t wanted to. Then I came across a podcast on a bible verse that made me rethink my focus (or lack thereof) on my physical body.

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” I Corinthians 6:19-20

If I am really going to call myself a Christian, I need to take this verse seriously and realize that my body is not mine and I can't just treat it any way I want. I want to live so that my body can be called the "temple of the Holy Spirit." So I am refocusing my spiritual life on my physical body. Let's see what happens!

He is (not?) silent

Here’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately and I would like your input if you’re reading this. I recently listened to a playlist I had put together some time ago of my favorite songs. There was a song on there from a Christian artist that talked about listening to God. Here are the lyrics:

“He is not silent,

He is not whispering,

We are not quiet

We are not listening.”

Now I used to believe this but I don’t think I do anymore. There have been plenty of times that I have tried so hard to hear the words of God and experience His presence. Times I was desperate and really listening. But God seemed silent. I never got an answer to some of those questions – even today I wonder about it. So here’s what I am thinking. There are times when God IS silent. He is present, and not speaking. For some reason we don’t understand, God is not answering. I’ve heard the explanation that God is answering our question “no” and we just don’t want to hear it. I think this is incorrect: something we say to make ourselves feel better when we don’t hear God even though we know we are listening. But what if God really is silent? Does this mean that he is not present? Does this mean that God doesn’t care? Can we take this line of reasoning so far as to say that God doesn’t exist? I think we labor spiritually under this supposition that if God exists, he will answer our prayers. But I’ve found that God deliberately distances Himself from us for a time. And this is always for our salvation. Sometimes this is a long time. Even years. Seven years was my longest time and I see the reason for it now – but that’s for another time. There are times when I need to struggle. There are times when I need to NOT hear the voice of God. Let me give you an example. I read a quote a while ago that said that depression is given to people who don’t know how to repent. I thought, “Well this person doesn’t understand depression.” (I don't believe they are talking about chemical depression here.) I began to ponder this because I really respect the author of the quote. I realized that there are times in my life when I am in “sin” (my definition of sin is anything that keeps you from God) and don’t realize it. I don’t know how to turn from it because I can’t even see it. This sin keeps me from experiencing God and it is time to deal with it. So God allows it to become painful. SO painful that I might experience depression over it. I want to get away from that feeling as soon as possible and no matter what it takes. So in the silence of God, I am forced to look deeper – to find out what is happening and why. Maybe I get so upset that I start to cry. Maybe in the tears I come to an understanding that I have been holding onto a hurt, or a misconception about God, and I need to say I’m sorry for believing this and that I will quit believing it right now. This does NOT mean I am a bad person. It just means that whatever it is, it keeps me distant from God. So I learn to say I’m sorry and that I won’t do it anymore. And that is repentance. I was depressed because I didn’t know how to do it (like the quote says). And every time this has happened to me I have had a release, a catharsis, and I once more feel the presence of God. That He is not silent. That He is talking again. That the silence was for my good even if it lasted seven years.

There is a freedom in realizing it is not my fault that I don’t hear God. That I am progressing in my spiritual life by NOT hearing Him. That the pain is meant to draw me closer and to teach me how to persevere. That the silence is okay. That God is always present and working for my good, even if it does mean that he is silent.

Okay – so to some of you this may seem like common sense. Or some of you might think I am way off-base. Or maybe you’ve been wondering why you don’t hear God. I would like to hear what you have to say. So leave a comment, message me on Facebook, or give me a call.

Thanks for “listening.”

Starting Over

Do you remember when you were a kid and you weren't doing so well with your video game so you just went ahead and killed your guy because you wanted to start a new game? Well, I'm not going to kill the old 2006 part of this blog but I am starting fresh with a new game.
There are a lot of times when you end up starting over. After a breakup. After you've fallen off the wagon with whatever vice you are attempting to overcome. When your life throws you a curveball and you enter the in-between of what you were and what you are becoming. When you are in school and the new year begins. Lots of starting over. So I guess I will just leave this post at that and hopefully there will be more to come.

Eat your heart out

I was having a recent episode with a bag of cheetos, and I suddenly thought of the phrase "eat your heart out". I thought, is this what I'm doing, eating until my heart goes away? Food does have a numbing effect. I checked the origin of the word, and one definition said "To eat the heart out is to remove the core or most important part, a part that will surely be missed."

I'm eating my heart out. It's a way of not feeling, as I'm sure that everyone who has issues with food has figured out. And my heart is "surely missed". There are tons of things you miss out on when you numb yourself to the world. I numb my pain, but what is it costing me? Time with Lizzy (my five-year-old)? Vulnerability with my husband?

Another supposed origin of the phrase is adapted from the 16th century "eat one's own heart", meaning to suffer from silent grief or vexation.

Yep. I started eating this way when I lost one of my best friends to suicide. The grief has been profound and long lasting, and I sometimes wonder if I will ever feel like I'm not eating my heart out.

The Joy of denial

Today I woke up with a sense of joy. I wonder if it is because I have just finished the first week of the Lenten Fast (as an Orthodox Christian). I am reading a book called "Great Lent" by Alexander Schmemann. What I have taken away from this book so far is that we are not simply to deny ourselves by not eating certain foods, but we are creating a space for God to work in our lives. A return to the state of closeness to God that Adam and Eve felt before they separated themselves from God.

Not eating meat makes me hungry. And not being able to fill that void makes me more hungry. The hungry space is the place I create for God, attempting to focus on something other than the daily chores of life.

So is this the joy that I feel this morning? I'd like to think so.

I just checked my blogger page and found out that I am profile # 17009116. Is this yet another number I will have to remember to identify myself? Will it be required on my income tax form this year, and where will I put it?

On posting

I've spent a lot of time thinking about what the first post on my page should be. I hate it when people say stuff like "this is the first time I've ever posted on a blog". Isn't that obvious by the absence of any other entries? So I won't be saying that.

What I will say, is that thinking about posting something on a blog has made me pay attention to my life in a way that I haven't in a long time. It's made me think about what others might like to read about what's going on in my life. It's kind of one of those philosophical things -- like you don't really know yourself until you see yourself through the eyes of your friends. Or something like that. I'm sure I'm butchering that. (Do you think that butchers ever get offended by that last statement?)

So here's to writing about things you hope other people will want to read. And to friends who encourage you to blog (Susie!).