The Recovery-Minded Church offers a clinically-informed, theological framework for Christians challenged with how to relate to people with addiction. Each chapter is followed by useful discussion questions.
The book is already receiving some very positive reviews that you can read here.
The following post is part of a talk I am giving on Friday, May 29, 2015 at the South Florida Spiritual Care Network lunch, an association of clinicians, counselors, clergy, law enforcement, elected officials, and other helping professionals.
Trauma is anything less than nurturing.
--Commonly heard definition for trauma in the clinical counseling community
If this definition is right, then we all have been traumatized on some level, and we all have some healing work to do. I often tell my clients when complaining about their lot in life, "Welcome to Planet Earth." While it may sound cheeky, it does help them to wake up to the idea that life on this planet does not exempt us from problems. In fact, being born on this planet ensures it. Mother Nature can be hostile. So can our own families and loved ones. So can our friends and enemies. So can we ourselves.
How do we bounce back from less-than-nurturing experiences?
Often, those of us in the healing professions are the last to personally apply our own work. We somehow delude ourselves into thinking that as we help others heal, we too are being healed.
And while it's a spiritual truth that in giving, we receive (the Prayer of St. Francis), this truth can't be activated in our lives until we practice another truth: we can only impart that which we have already received.
In short, we have to have it before we can give it to another.
But this begs to ask the question: where do helpers go for help? Where do we receive the strength, knowledge, healing, insight, and awareness to light the paths of those who come to us seeking to come out of their own personal darkness? How do we walk in the light and bring others into it as well?
I've found head knowledge is not enough. Intellectually knowing a healing technique or principle is very different than experiencing it. All of the education in the world might produce a lot of useful information but still in the end be very insufficient to transform the heart.
I suppose it's that aspiration for personal transformation that drives us forward. I know it does me. I find great fulfillment in seeing others transform their lives.
You see, those who work with me--especially those who know me well--understand that most everything I do in life, I do with intensity.
I work hard.
I play hard.
I relate hard.
I strive hard.
I sleep hard.
I weep hard.
I laugh hard.
I give with everything in my being. Rarely do I hold back.
I do so because this creates for a more nuanced and meaningful existence--at least for me.
I do so because I'm convinced that if I'm giving my all then I've done my best and hopefully made a difference in my world.
This last weekend I was walking home from a restaurant and I had an Aha! moment.
It went something like this: I can do anything I want to do. I don't have to do everything I want.
Sometimes it's as if for me the law of scarcity takes over. I have to make up for lost time. I have to do and experience everything because there might not be another chance. We aren't promised a tomorrow. All we have is today. So carpe diem, baby!
But my Aha! moment woke me up again to the idea that I can choose to not do the things I really like to do. I can rest in the place of being. In fact, just being is a phenomenal choice to connect me to myself and those around me. In that moment of my Aha! moment, scarcity vanished, and grace appeared.
I don't know how it appeared, but it did. This feeling of wellbeing came over me. I slowed down my harried and hurried pace. I noticed more the warmth of the sun on my face. I was more aware of the people passing me on the sidewalk. I felt more centered, more grounded, more connected, more calm, more alive. As my dad sometimes says, it was like I was being saved all over again. Saved from the bondage of self. Saved to live again. Renewed, resurrected, reborn, born again, all at once. In a moment, in an instant, in the twinkling of an eye, grace appeared.
Now how does one define grace? I was rhetorically asking my friend Richard this, just this morning. He was on his way to take care of something that we--his wife, Lisa, other close friends, and I--had been praying and hoping for, for a while.
I suddenly blurted, "I'm not sure we can define grace, we can only experience it."
Grace is something to be experienced.
We experience grace when we journey with others.
We experience grace when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, and we aren't quite as afraid as we used to be.
We experience grace when we embrace the good, the bad, and the ugly in our lives and come to understand that everything belongs.
We experience grace when we realize that we are finite and infinitely powerful all at the same time.
We experience grace when we come to our wit's end and discover that the way out was there all along.
We experience grace when we survive hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, and natural disasters--both literal and metaphorical--and come out on the other side grateful for the deeper life lessons we have learned.
We experience grace in the dark night of the soul, when the angry angst of human isolation, abandonment, and shame seek to snuff out our inner light, and we then suddenly realize that when forsaken and alone, we find ourselves in the best company ever.
We experience grace when the inner demons rant and rave and rage and have less power over us than they did before.
We experience grace when we face the inevitable mortality of those close to us and that of ourselves.
We experience grace when we risk vulnerability and share our stories with others and they with us.
We experience grace when we think our story is over and discover it's only just begun.
Grace is a uniquely human experience. Grace is all around. Grace is within you, within me, within all of us. Grace is already there. Grace comes when we ask. Grace even comes when we don't ask.
That's the beauty of grace.
I work hard, and grace appears.
I play hard, and grace appears.
I relate hard, and grace appears.
I strive hard, and grace appears.
I sleep hard, and grace appears.
I weep hard, and grace appears.
I laugh hard, and grace appears.
I give with everything in my being, and grace appears.
I live life fully, and grace appears.
I slow down and breathe, and grace appears.
I do nothing, and yes, grace appears.
So I return to my original questions:
How do we bounce back from less-than-nurturing experiences? Where do helpers go for help? Where do we receive the strength, knowledge, healing, insight, and awareness to light the paths of those who come to us seeking to come out of their own personal darkness? How do we walk in the light and bring others into it as well?
I don't have easy answers to these questions but I do think grace has a lot to do with it. I today choose to surround myself with gracious people. I choose gracious, compassionate and kinds thoughts toward myself and others. I endeavor to live a more gracious way of life.
I offer others the strength and favor I have received which I've done nothing to garner, earn, or gain.
I give freely even as I have received.
For it's in grace I live, move, and have my being.
This summer marks 30 years that I have been traveling to Haiti serving the poor. In fact, my grandfather first went to Haiti in 1955, so my family has rich history with this nation.
My last trip to Haiti was a year ago, and it was encouraging to see the economic progress in the northern city of Gonaïves where we have been concentrating our efforts:
We have a positive relationship with local political leaders.
New roads have been paved.
Water cisterns have been built providing clean, potable water to the people.
This is the latest update from my friend Pastor Irick St. Cyr in Gonaïves:
Finally, the school kids' parents have agreed on Friday to pay extra money to cover over 50% of the cost toward the school lunch while all my US sponsors declined assistance. We are only short about $ 300 a month. Please pray if you can help me with $200 a month. The well for the community potable water has furnished so much water, we are now able to collect extra money to pay the light bill for the pump itself and half of the school light bill.
This news encourages me as the people are taking ownership of education--paying what they can afford--and the water potable systems are actually producing income to pay for the school electricity.
But as you can see, there is a shortfall of approximately $300 a month. The US sponsors were unable to come through.
Would you consider making a one-time or monthly donation to support our school? I have been there numerous times and can attest that education is making all the difference in the lives of these children. This is a work of integrity where your gifts are honored.
Your donations are tax-deductible. Please email me at j[email protected] and I can put you in touch with the appropriate US address to ensure the funds get there. Or you can utilize PayPal here. Just mention my name and that the funds are designated for the school. Thanks.
I've long been a fan of Anne Lamott. Her books speak to my soul and cause me to live from my higher self. I'm grateful for her voice and writings.
One of my favorite memories with Anne is being in North Eleuthera, Bahamas years ago reading one of her books out-loud to my friend Misi. We had no TV so an even better pastime was to read Anne and laugh together and yes, share some meaningful sighs, touching soul to soul, deep calling to deep as the Good Book says.
I came across this interview through her Facebook feed and wanted to share her wit and wisdom.
She states in it: "It's the most spiritual thing you can do to touch another person."
That truth slows my frenetic mind down and reminds me that the people around me daily are worth hearing, worth connecting with, worth touching. It reminds me to hear deeply and with understanding.
Sometimes this is hard for me--especially when I go to church. My home church is so accepting and very touch-feely. They hug a lot, and people generally want to reach out and connect, hug, and give a holy kiss on the cheek.
I'm generally good with that but sometimes there are ones who come up behind and connect when I'm not expecting. At that point, it's like my inner New Yorker wants to reach out and visit them with a five-fingered blessing across the face. Sometimes my friends laugh at my startled response, and I've often questioned why it is people want to connect when I least it expect it and why it unsettles me so.
I think it's because we all carry a deep need to connect with another human being in a meaningful way. When we see someone that we think carries something meaningful, we want to connect with them in whatever way possible.
So my challenge in being more empathetic to others is allowing them to connect, even when it may not be the most comfortable for me. This means moving beyond my ultra-sensitivities and seeing their need. Because at the end of the day, their need is the same as mine: the desire to touch another human being in a meaningful and most spiritual way.
I've watched with interest this weekend the retraction of Brian Williams and subsequent reaction from media outlets. His misremembering of an event twelve years ago left us thinking something different than what he reported.
Many have been quick to run to judgment. Few have been quick to identify with him. Anne Lamott did today on her Facebook status update. I was relieved that someone else was echoing my inner musings, so thought it time to chime in here.
MY PERSONAL MORAL INVENTORY
This morning I found myself doing some personal Step 4 work around where I'm not completely honest. My daily moral inventory left me thinking, I'm not so different than Mr. Williams. I sometimes embellish a story or may leave people coming to a conclusion that might be slightly more spectacular than the current reality. After all, we love a fabulous story, now don't we? (Not to mention, fabulous people.)
The PR Release on the Addictions Program I direct...
Ft. Lauderdale, FL (PRWEB) June 03, 2014
The Christian addiction treatment program at The Recovery Place announces its new name, Three Strands, a title rich with symbolic references to faith and recovery.
The name "Three Strands" evokes the Christian trinity – the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – as well as the three prongs of healthy, holistic living – mind, body and spirit. The theme of "threes" is also in harmony with the 3rd Step of Alcoholics Anonymous, which relates to turning one's will over to a higher power.
"The number three is a powerful symbol throughout Christian teachings as well as recovery," said Three Strands' director Jonathan Benz. "It represents many important concepts, including the relationship among counselors, the group and the individual – a reminder that by coming together with others, we strengthen ourselves."
The program naming is part of a broader goal to develop a truly differentiated treatment option for Christians in recovery. Whereas many Christian rehab programs are essentially a "track" within a standard treatment program that offers an occasional Celebrate Recovery group or transportation to a local church, Three Strands is a comprehensive, fully integrated faith-centered program. Clients participate in traditional therapies, including educational groups, individual, group and family counseling, and relapse prevention planning, but treatment also includes:
Last year I received a call from an executive director of a treatment center in Fort Lauderdale. I thought the call was about a new center their company was opening in the Palm Beach area.
Initially, I wasn't too keen on being back in an exclusively Christian world. I really enjoy engaging people from diverse religious and cultural backgrounds. I also have never had a huge desire to live and work in Fort Lauderdale.
But I felt a knocking on my heart and knew I needed to respond. I went through some interviews and was offered the position.
I am Director of Three Strands, The Christian Program at The Recovery Place in Fort Lauderdale. The Recovery Place is owned by Elements Behavioral Health in California. I have been nothing but completely impressed with the professionalism and high calibre of individuals working for this company. I am so grateful to be a part.
I have been privileged to develop programming that integrates spiritual principles with solid clinical therapy for individuals who are battling addiction and other co-occurring mental health disorders.
Three Strands believes that everyone is welcome at the table of the Lord. We create an atmosphere where people can move into the light and receive nurturing and healing for the soul. We also welcome people of other faiths and even no faith to enter the program. I still believe the Christian faith, when released in the paradigm of the teachings of Jesus, offers one of the greatest invitations to spiritual experience and transformation.
I recently received a huge compliment from a client who did about 40 days of treatment. He stated he entered somewhat agnostic, cynical and very mistrusting of religion. He said he left knowing that he can walk out his recovery following the teachings of Jesus and not having to be a dry, religious person. He said the days in therapy amounted to the greatest spiritual awakening in his life.
That made me smile real big. I feel blessed to be part of a healing center that honors both psychotherapy and spiritual renewal.
The Russian writer Boris Pasternak wrote, "When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, it is often no louder than the beating of your heart, and it is very easy to miss it."
Be attentive to the knocking on the door of your life today. It is probably quite soft and more a sensation than even a noise. If you follow it, it might have the potential to release you into a whole new phase of your life.
I've been reading the book Anam Ċara by John O'Donohue. Perhaps more than reading, I've been studying it. The book is full of quotes and insights that speak to my intellect as well as my soul.
His approach to God and life really resonates with me. He writes and speaks with a rhthym that reminds me of Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hahn. I feel very connected when I meditate on his writings.
In Gaelic, anam means soul and ċarameans friend. Literally translated it is "soul friend". In the Celtic tradition an anam ċara could be a teacher, friend, leader, or someone with whom you'd share the inner parts of your life. These are the people who see clearly into our souls and do not condemn but love, reflect, and embrace.
These are the people whom you meet on your journey and there is an instant spiritual connection when two souls meet and you know you are tasting something of the eternal beyond the confines of mere rational thought, time, or space. Eternal knowing invades the present moment.
I've been blessed to connect with several anam ċara on my journey. O'Donohue wrote the following poem which really expresses well for me, these who are part of my spiritual tribe:
A Friendship Blessing
May you be blessed with good friends. May you learn to be a good friend to yourself. May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth, feeling, and forgiveness. May this change you. May it transfigure that which is negative, distant, or cold in you. May you be brought in to the real passion, kinship, and affinity of belonging. May you treasure your friends. May you be good to them and may you be there for them; may they bring you all the blessing, challenges, truth, and light that you need for your journey. May you never be isolated. May you always be in the gentle nest of belonging with your anam ċara.
O'Donohue wrote, "A friend is a loved one who awakens your life in order to free the wild possibilities within you." These are the ones I want to be surrounded by!
I pray the same blessing for you today. May you be surrounded by many good soul friends who "get" you and you "get" them. May you be so awakened that you are freed to fly with the wild possibilities within you!
For the last five years or so I have made a conscious decision to give something up for Lent.
Not food, drink, or material items, but something that I enjoy emotionally yet might keep me from connecting spiritually.
One year it was giving up a criticism. Another year it was a specific area of resentment.
I try to keep it real and psychologically meaningful, endeavouring to discipline myself emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I was at St. Brendan's in the City in DC for worship last Sunday evening and the announcements were made about upcoming Ash Wednesday. I silently surrendered to the Spirit that if there were something I needed to give up, it would be made known to me.
I should know by now not to pray those kinds of prayers. They tend to get answered. And quickly.
Nothing came to me. Yay! Relief! The best kind of silence. Nothing to work on.
For me, it sometimes feels easier to maintain spiritual status quo than to enter into a greater sense of mindfulness. I was happy to enter into the Lenten season just as I had entered into the New Year: keep things going strong, no major adjustments.
Then, I read it Wednesday morning.
Right there on my Facebook feed. A friend had posted a status update about the attitude of her heart she had worked on the previous year. I knew it was for me. She talked about her need to be right.
You see, I too have a great need to be right. (I know, you are shocked.)
The problem is, I often am, and that's not always beneficial for me.
I try to reason through my positions, provide a logical framework with good evidence to back up my case. When I'm in doubt, I try to respond with "you may be right", actually giving myself a little more room to be right or perhaps diffuse a situation where my ego might be bruised.
I suppose some of this compulsive "rightness' come from my shadow self--some egoic, self-loathing part of my soul that relishes the darkness of shame as opposed to the spiritual light of day. I think it's the part that Apostle Paul called the "flesh". Not physical flesh, but dark parts of the soul that keep me spiritually enslaved.
When I hit a shame hole, those shadows take over. I immediately run to prove my point, defend my position, hide my vulnerability, or validate my existence.
What a tiresome way to live, constantly on the defense!
I immediately texted my friend Richard, the rector of St. Brendan's. I knew he would think this a ridiculous idea and smack the spiritual sense back into me.
Me: For Lent, giving up my great need to be right.
Some time passes, I'm off the hook. Thank, God.
Richard: That is beautiful and got me thinking.
Prolonged pause on my part, need to talk him out of this.
Me: It's gonna be tough. Dying. Ugh.
Richard: Dying always is!
Some help he was. I was hoping he would tell me how utterly ridiculous of an idea this was.
Time to find a new priest, I thought. A mega-church pastor would never agree with him on this.
But I knew Richard was right. This is what I need in this season of my life.
So for Lent 2014, I commit to give up my great need to be right. This doesn't mean I can't be right. It just means if I am, I don't have to express it in every situation--or at all.
It also means I can say when I'm not right. Better yet, I don't even have to be right. My rightness does not determine my worth as a human being nor my self-esteem.
I can give up the need for self-validation, for proving my point, for justifying my position. I can be vulnerable. I can be silent. That's okay.
In the last 24 hours we have fed nearly 2000 men, women, and children.
For many of these people, this was the most substantial meal they've had in weeks.
There was such celebration--not just for the food but also because my father came. It's been six years since his health allowed him to travel to Haiti. The people celebrated him and talked about how much they prayed for him over the last several years. That is a blessing.
Coming here is no vacation. But it's very rewarding. Once I push past the oppressive heat, dusty roads, and feelings of exhaustion to become fully present, I see great hope and the possibility of positive change.
It's not without challenges, but nothing worth working for ever is.
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