Theology Now

or, "When Faith Kicks in for Real"
by Jonathan Hart, LPC

I went on a 20 mile hike with my 9 year old son last weekend.  We took a couple of days, camped overnight, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Except the last four miles.

It started with two rumbles of thunder.  The rain turned on like a faucet. This was not wholly unexpected.  The forecast had predicted "scattered storms".  We donned our ponchos and put away our lunches.  We, wisely or foolishly, chose to hike through it, since we were pretty close to the end.  I believed the storm would be over quickly.

I was wrong.  The rain persisted.  Thunder and lightning rolled, becoming if anything more frequent.  We hiked off the hilltop and were working our way down into the valley.  My son was nervous about the rain and the lightning, especially the close ones (I was too, but I tried to keep a brave face on for his sake).  Half an hour into the storm when the hail started falling, he became terrified.

We found a  fairly large bent tree trunk to hide behind.  It was enough to deflect most of the hail, but not all.  Both of us took a few hits. That had to have been the longest ten minutes of the whole trip, when dime-to-quarter sized chunks of ice were falling around and on us, lightning blasting overhead followed by deafening thunder and torrential rain. I seriously considered getting out our cooking gear and wearing the pots on our heads.

I knew that hail typically lasts only about 10 to 15 minutes, if that.  I did not know if we could expect larger hail than that which was currently pelting us. I didn't know if there was a tornado in the vicinity.  My son was crying and starting to seriously freak out.  I was well on my to "Really Frightened" myself.  One of my most immediate thoughts was, "REALLY, God?  This couldn't wait another hour or two?"  And then I thought, "What have I done to my son?"

I had been praying since the rain began.  Finally, faith kicked in.  I had a "Theology Now" moment.  I took my son's face in my hands, looked into his eyes, and said (speaking as much to myself as to him), "As much as I love you, and would do everything I could to protect you and keep bad things from happening to you, God loves you more than I ever could.  He doesn't always keep us from getting hurt, but he Always, Always loves and protects his children.  He is looking out for us right now, even though it might not seem like it."

The hail stopped a few minutes later, as I knew it probably would.  The storm continued for another two and a half hours.  We survived, though we were thoroughly soaked and very, very tired of rain and lightning.

Theology Now is when the rubber meets the road in faith-land.  It is when what you say you believe meets up with what you really believe deep down.  It is the moment when the truth of doctrine pushes on and stretches our limitations and grows our capacity for real, honest-to-goodness trust.

The funny thing is that these moments don't usually happen in the sunshine.  They usually happen right in the middle of an obnoxious storm.  We must be challenged, stretched, and tested painfully in order to grow our faith.  In this way, God often allows storms and painful times into our lives because he loves us. We must come to the end of our own strength in order to find and believe in His strength on our behalf.

--JH

Cancer Companions: brining hope to the journey

By: Lianne Johnson, LPC

Recently I had the opportunity to sit with Karen Tripp, who is the President of Cancer Companions.  I thought what she had to say was so good that I couldn't resist sharing it with you.  I hope you enjoy learning about Cancer Companions as much as I did!

Can you tell us a little about Cancer Companions?

Sure, Cancer Companions is a ministry that helps people build cancer ministry in their churches.  We train, equip and support caring people to become peer counselors who then meet with cancer families in cancer support groups or in one-to- one sessions.  The mission is all about drawing cancer families closer to Christ through their journey.

How did the ministry begin?

Well, I’m a Marriage and Family Therapist so I had spent several years running Christian Cancer Support groups around the St Louis area.   Eventually it became obvious that although there was value in me popping into a church for 7 weeks and running a support group, what the church and the community needed was an ongoing ministry that was led by volunteers but rooted in the church.   After felt the Lord lead me to develop this ministry, one of the women in one of my cancer groups approached me about starting a group in her church.   And from that came our first pilot church.   

So how is it going?

Great!  It’s like every time I turn around there is someone else with a heart for helping cancer families.  There are 5 churches in the St Louis area that have Cancer Companions running cancer support groups and seeing cancer families in one-to-one sessions.  The next Cancer Companions training is in September and there are already several more churches signed on.  It’s exciting to see the way the Lord is touching lives through these people.

How can we learn more?

Just go to www.cancer-companions.org or email me at Karen@cancer-companions.org

Already and Not Yet

The Already and the Not Yet

By:  Lianne Johnson, LPC

I was out walking one day when I saw this tree.  I was immediately struck by how the tree appeared to be both alive and flourishing, as well as dead.  Half alive and half dead.  Can you see it?  The left side of the tree is green, while the right side is dark and displaying what I am calling deadness.

"Wow," I thought to myself, "this is how I feel.  Regularly."

As you can see, the caption I wrote under the picture is - The Already and the Not Yet.  For those of you who are Christians reading this, you may be familiar with this phrase.  The Already:  We are made alive by Christ's death (His act to save us from ourselves), which gives us our aliveness, our life.  The Not Yet:  We live in a broken world where we see and experience suffering. We live in the "in between time" from Christ's death on the cross and until his return when everything will be made right.

This tree is displaying our internal reality as well.  We are alive in Christ, yet daily we live and struggle with the pain and toil of our day.

It was good for me to see this tree.  It was good for my heart and mind to be reminded that Christ has made me ALIVE.  It was good for me to remember that while the "dead" part (the pain and heartache of today) will remain a part of my daily reality until Christ returns, I am also ALIVE.  It was good for me to remember that Christ has conquered death.  

The Culture of Dissatisfaction

by Jonathan Hart, LPC

My truck is not what I want it to be. It is not new, big, heavy, or powerful. Its barely worthy of the title "truck". My house is't the greatest, either. There are a lot of ongoing repairs or refurbishments that need to happen... sometime. My computers are old and somewhat slow. My hair is starting to turn grey, and if i'm totally honest, there isn't as much of it as there used to be. 

Something in our culture disposes me to see things in this way. The ads with which we are saturated in video and print and pixels paint a world that is in desperate need of repair.  This I affirm.  But the ads stray into falsehood thereafter. Universally, ads point to a fix.  "If you have this item, pill, procedure, or experience, you will be satisfied."  They hint (but never say out loud) that the product they offer will be enough forever.  They, and we, know different.  But we are buying what they are selling.

The truth is that even millions in the bank, a rich family life, and all the possessions and stuff that we could ask for are not going to be enough... for long. All things (people included) age and decay.  All things (people included) break down and die. We rightly and achingly long for something more.  


Part of living well in this world is, to quote the Man in Black from "the Princess Bride", "Get used to disappointment".  Well, not exactly, but close.

The fact is that the things and experiences of this life cannot permanently or consistently satisfy us. Good comes and goes. Peace comes and goes. Contentment comes and goes. We run into trouble when we try to make these things "normal" and view anything else as sub-par or defective, when we make these temporary things more important than they really are.  We run into trouble when we depend on them to give us the one thing they absolutely cannot: satisfaction.


My truck is dependable, for now. My computer is enough to do what I need it to, for the moment. My family life is really good, at the moment. My house keeps me and my family warm and dry.  All of these thing will wax and wane. There is no ultimate fix that can be had for love or money in this world.  


Our hunger for more is good. Our awareness of lack and need is actually something to hold on to and allow for rather than trying to fill it up or soothe it. It points us to the something more that is intangible, and to the only thing that will truly, ultimately satisfy: it is our longing for heaven and the perfect eternity that God has for his children.

Giving Yourself Grace in Change

by: Courtney Hollingsworth, PLPC

This humorous clip is obviously an example of very poor therapy that is unlikely to be helpful. People are just too complex for such a simplistic and one-dimensional approach. I certainly hope that you do not have anyone in your life who interacts with you in such a way. But how many of us have internalized this ungracious and callous voice? How often do we grant ourselves little patience and understanding in the midst of our circumstances and our attempts to change? Oftentimes, we are the harshest critic of our progress or our performance.

In what areas of your life do you need be more patient and understanding with yourself? What words play in your head on which you need to turn the volume down? Grace is not only for shortcomings and failings, it is for growth too. And lest I fall into the same trap I am speaking against, here is your reminder that changing this way of thinking will require patience and grace for yourself. When it comes to warding off contempt in order to more fully embrace grace, you cannot tell yourself to simply “STOP IT!”

Feeling Better is Not Always Better

by Jonathan Hart, LPC

In order to experience life more richly and more fully, you must become a student of your own heart and mind.  Many of us walk through life working very hard to feel happy and to not feel sad.  It is a human instinct.  When we feel happy, we accept it as normal and good.  When we feel pain or sorrow, we try to avoid it, snuff it, or overcome it because on some level we believe that it is not normal and therefore it is bad. There is little examination of how joy or sorrow take shape in our own hearts.  This leads us to a blandness of experience that we find acceptable only because we have not tasted the richness that is possible.

Let me explain.  When we feel sadness, our first instinct is often to try to get happy.  It seems foolish to allow the sadness to stay.  If we can't "get happy", we wonder what is wrong with us... which leads to more sadness, and even to shame.  We try to anesthetize the pain with all kinds of things, from shopping to substances to adrenaline rushes.  Somehow the sadness flattens all of these eventually.  Our attempts to feel better are not what they cracked up to be.  We need something different, something more authentic.

What if, instead of running from the sadness we acknowledge it and not only allow it to stay, but poke at it, study it?  What if we learn what it is really about, how it works, why it is there?  This is not an attempt to make it better.  Rather it is an attempt to know it more fully, to give it room to exist.

"Why on earth would I do that?!" you might ask.  The answer is simple: sadness is normal.  If you have lost your job or a loved one, had a friend move away, had a car crash, or had a child move on to college, the sadness you feel is supposed to be there.  It is a normal emotional response to loss.  If you fight it, you will lose.

Rather than fighting it, I suggest making friends with it.  Observe and experience your feelings at the same time.  Get to know it.  Learn how it works in you.  Allow it to be present, and actually feel it for a change.

Do not only do this with sadness.  Do this with joy and contentment and peace as well.  Instead of just rolling past it, pause and examine it.  Feel it more fully.  Know why it is there and how it comes to be.  Pick apart why the joke was funny to you, explore the layers of irony or innuendo.

In short, become a student of your own heart.  Don't measure yourself against others' reactions or patterns: they are not you.  Be yourself, and be yourself more fully. Stop striving for the illusion of perpetual happiness, and strive to know the full range of human experience on a deeper level.

One of Life's Most Difficult Questions

By: Katy Martin, LPC

I had to do something today that was difficult.

I had to ask for help.

Our basement is getting refinished and, ideally, the new rooms need to be painted before it can be completely done.  My husband is in an extremely busy time at work, traveling a lot, and I’m pregnant: we need some help.

No, this isn’t life altering.  No, I’m not asking for a kidney or something major.

But we are legitimately in a season where we could use some help.  And it wasn’t fun to ask for something I feel like I should be able to handle on my own.

I know I’m not alone in this.  How often in life do we find it difficult to ask for help?

I think one of two things is sometimes happening: 

1. We are too prideful.  We don’t want to admit our need.  Asking for help puts at risk of being rejected.

2.  We are so used to our circumstances, pain, emotions, or ways of thinking that we don’t realize we even have a need that could be met.  We build a tolerance, not realizing that someone could ease our burden, take our burden, or that we don’t have to be alone. 

The trouble is that a lot of times no one else knows we need help.  We’re all busy going about our own lives, trying to survive, unaware of needs around us.  When it comes down to it, we have to admit our need to ourselves and make a step to invite someone in. 

Sounds easy, right?

No, it’s not that easy.  It’s a risk to invite someone in to help.  It’s a risk to admit that we don’t have it all together or that we can’t handle everything.  It’s a risk to be that vulnerable.  Our own stories of trust and mistrust keep us from opening up to others and/or skew our expectations.

It’s important to know whom you can trust and how to find appropriate avenues of care.  If it’s a difficult family member or friend who has hurt you, they might not be your best bet.  We have to identify people to be a part of our “team” as we do life.  Some times it means locating a counselor, pastor, or professional who can help you either in the situation or in identifying your “team.”  This can be a difficult process if you have experienced hurt by others or if the burden/situation/emotions are a major part of your life.

In the end, it’s worth the risk.   Sure, it’s safer to stay protected and not hear rejection or feel our pride raging.  However, inviting someone in can be a huge blessing just by being a part of your life and also by easing your burden or pain.

Today I awkwardly asked my friend to help us paint our basement.  She enthusiastically agreed to help, leaving me feeling blessed by her willingness and feeling hopeful about the work finally ending on our house.  Worth the risk?  Yes.  Good practice for the bigger trials in life?  Definitely.  We have to start somewhere.