follow-up on "Brother Ass"

Gustav Jaeger: Bileam und der Engel, PD-US, via Wikimedia Commons

This is a follow-up on my post "Brother Ass".

I ended up talking to my husband about that blog post - the one on bodies, emotions, and the prophet Balaam.  And in that conversation, and after reading comments on the original post, I realized that there was a little more that I needed to explain.

What I'm not saying
In that first post, I talked a bit about how our bodies and our emotions are inseparably tied together.  But here's the thing: when it comes to stress or anxiety or depression or the like, I'm not saying that it's all in your head. I'm not saying: make yourself feel better, and then you'll feel better.

I love traditional medicine.

I have traditional medicine to thank for the fact that my kids and husband are alive. My youngest two children were saved by modern medicine (monoamniotic twins) and so was my husband (melanoma).  My sight was restored by modern medicine (laser surgery!) and I've been grateful for antibiotics and vaccines time and time again.

And psychotropic drugs? They are a Godsend when you need them.

So I'm not saying: be happy and you'll be healthy. It's more complicated than that.

What I am saying
Our bodies, though, are more connected to our minds and our emotions than we'd like to believe that they are.


We want to believe that our feelings have nothing to do with our health. And that's just not true.

Of course, there are things we can't control, like genetic predispositions to depression. Or the brain development that results in autism. Or cancer striking out of the blue. Or so many, many other devastating illnesses, injuries, and conditions.

But what can't be denied is that our psychological states affect our bodily functions, and vice versa.

Stress results in cortisol spikes that lead to all manners of disease.

Or try going without sleep for a night or two in a row. You'll be as drunk as a sailor.  Or at least as same as makes no nevermind. You can mind-over-matter that.

God made us with bodies. Those bodies aren't something separate from us. They are part of us. They are not the whole of us, but they are us.

If you deny your body, you're a heretic. Having a body is part of what it means to be human. Your body is part of you. And it changes how you experience life and how you can experience life.

And sometimes, when you're particularly in denial, your body can be smarter than you are.

Your body might be what sees the danger before you can, like Balaam's ass was able to see the angel before he could.

Your body might warn you - by panic attacks, by back aches, by persistent lethargy - that you're living in a manner that is unsustainable.

St. Francis
St. Francis famously called his body "Brother Ass" - and that's where I got the title for these blog posts.


Because our bodies are like that. They are dumb animals - dumb until God grants them speech.

And then they tell us what we really need to know. They warn us about the angels in our pathway; they save us from death.

People used to call this sort of thing "nervous breakdowns". Now we might say "panic attack" or "depressive episode".

But it's the same thing: our bodies are no longer able to carry the burdens our minds and hearts force on them.

I like this about bodies: that they are honest. Like the animals that they are. They do their best, but some things are too much for them. Drink too much, eat too much, sleep too little . . . eventually your body will let you know about it.

Balaam's ass carried the prophet well, as far as she was able. But eventually, she was able to tell the prophet about a danger the prophet himself could not see.

Our bodies do the same thing.

And I am grateful for that.


Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

"Some of you are in dark places right now, and I want you to know that God sees you."

I had the pleasure of being present at this lecture last year, and I was glad to find that it's available to the public on YouTube now.

Here's Dr. Betsy Barber on depression and Christians:

Brother Ass

Pieter Lastman, Balaam i oslica, PD, via Wikimedia Commons

I've been thinking a lot about how we carry our emotions in our bodies. We feel fear as a knot in our stomach or a race in our pulses. We feel joy in the sudden rush of adrenalin and a glow on our faces.

But so often we ignore the emotions. (Which we can't do. Not really.)  We don't want to feel them, especially the bad ones.  And sometimes we don't want to feel the good ones either, because we're scared of loving them too much before we inevitably lose them.

So instead, we run from our emotions, or fight them, or try to push them away. And where do we push them? Into our bodies.

I think. This is a theory I'm working on, anyway. I think we let our bodies carry the emotions we won't feel. (Or can't bear to feel.)

Like Balaam's Ass carrying the prophet, our bodies carry our feelings.

And sometimes the burden gets too heavy, and our bodies suddenly refuse. They stop, and fall down on their knees, and crush us against the wall.


Our bodies can carry our emotions for a while.

But not forever.

Eventually, we have to face what's in our hearts, we have to face the structure of our minds (that grew well or stunted in our youth), we have to face the formation of our souls.

And we have to begin the slow, hard work of learning what was bent in us, and how, and why, and where-do-we-go-from-here.

And it's to be hoped that we have wise counselors, mentors, psychologists, pastors, friends, spouses, etc., to help us in the process.

But you can't ask your body to bear your burdens forever. Eventually, everything you are will come out into the light.

Whether you want it to or not.

Your body can't bear it forever. It's finite. It just can't.

It will break down.

This is the way of bodies.


But these bodies are not forever.

By the grace of God, by faith in Christ, our hearts will be whole, and they will have whole bodies to bear them.

We hope for a better resurrection.

I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable.  Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed,  in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.  When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”

“O death, where is your victory? 

O death, where is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

-1 Corinthians 15:50-58 




Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

Weekend Links!

Some good reading for your weekend, from around the Web:

"Aspergian Christianity":

. . . I soon came to see it as a gift that those with Aspergers or others on the autistic spectrum have to offer to the church and the world: the gift of truth-telling. Instead of being offended by the forthrightness or clarity of speech from those who have Aspergers, we can welcome it as a reminder of the way we use our words, and the power that they have. When choose beating around the bush, or gently trying to imply what feels like a blatant truth, we can learn from those who speak the truth plainly. We must always choose gentleness when communicating that truth, but we ought to pursue speaking the truth.

"Things I Love about the Things I Love" (this one has great pictures and GIFs):

The way it always feels miraculous when you look down at the finished product and think "this used to just be string." 

"Why You Do What You Do" - I'm still in the middle of listening to this podcast interview with Carolyn McCulley, so I can't endorse it whole-heartedly (yet, anyway), but I'm really appreciating her distinction between the idea of "women in the workplace" and "women being productive". Lots of good thoughts here.

"I Liked Everything I Saw on Facebook for Two Days. Here’s What It Did to Me": frightening stuff.

"It’s Just Better with Community":

God never meant for us to live our lives by ourselves. God lives in perfect community with Himself, and we as His image bearers are also to live in community with one another. When Christ ascended to the Father, He commissioned a community—the Church—to embody His message to the world. We need to live life with others. 

And finally, after hearing the sad news of Robin Williams' death, I found these two articles particularly helpful:
-"What Does the Church Say About Suicide?": I'm not Catholic, so I don't agree with every nuance here, but it's a really good place to start thinking about these issues.
-"the depressed Christian: why the dark night is no measure of your soul":

I wanted their souls to be better, stronger, more determined. I had no idea at all what their brains were going through. But now I know. And I am humbled beyond words.

I hope you have a lovely weekend.

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

Weekend Links: Quick Writing, Anxiety, the Passive Voice, and more!

"The Value of 10 Minutes: Writing Advice for the Time-Less Academic":

Let’s start with the obvious point that writing in short bursts will declaw the activity of writing precisely by demystifying and normalizing it. If writing is something you can do in 10 minutes, like running to the mailroom or shoving a sandwich down your throat, then it seems hardly worth the paralyzing stress it tends to cause so many of us. 

"No Wonder We Hate To Buy Cars":

I hold to the philosophy of buying new and driving until the serious problems begin—maybe seven or eight years with the right brand, all the scheduled maintenance, and a little bit of luck. I hold to this position largely because I consider cars magic. They exist far beyond the boundaries of science and reason and firmly within the realm of wizardry. I have no idea how they work and live with the fear that if I touch anything beyond the gas cap, I will disrupt the sorcery and cause a total breakdown. 

"Anxiety and Depression, My Strange Friends":

So if anxiety and/or depression is your affliction, I am sharing this part of my story to remind you that there’s no shame in suffering from this or any other affliction. In fact, our afflictions may be the key to our fruitfulness as ministers. “Damaged” does not mean “ineffective.” It does not mean “done.”

-Elena's ode to the passive voice is both funny and touching. I love the sentence, "Still, my rebel soul's been captivated/by peace."  Go read the rest here.

-And finally, for aspiring writers out there, this week on her "Simple Mom" podcast, Tsh Oxenreider and her agent, Jenni Burke, give a really good overview of how acquiring an agent and getting published works these days.  If you're looking for an introduction to the subject, this one is nice and comprehensive.

Links, mostly about Lent

I swear I'm not trying to make posting my weekend links on Mondays a habit, but apparently it's becoming one anyway!  So, a day late again, here are this week's collection of good links from around the Web:

"Married to Depression":

Howard is a bright spot in my life. He makes me laugh. He makes my days better, which is why it hurts so much when this amazing person vanishes into himself and radiates despair or anger. Suddenly instead of having a life partner who is carrying half the load, or even saving me because I’m stumbling, I have a person who is faltering and struggling to carry only a fraction of what he usually does. Not only that, but he radiates the bleakness and it permeates the house, actually creating additional stress and strain. These days we have good strategies for minimizing the impact of a depressive episode. That was not always the case.

"What Is Lent?": this is a very short, incredibly helpful explanation of the season, and how to celebrate it. Highly recommended.

"Lent is Just Around the Corner": some good thoughts on celebrating Lent as a regular person in a regular family. Like most of us.

"8 Reasons Not to Shave Your Dog": not about Lent, but as someone who does own a double-coated dog, I found this really helpful and informative!

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

Links: the Bible, sex, California's gods, and more

"Post-depressed post":

I wrestle with many things I find in the Bible, and I cannot claim to have solved its mysteries (I've written about how I deal with those things elsewhere, and won't address that subject tonight). But when I go to the Bible I come away with the sense that I've encountered something entirely true to life. It is not a happy book about bunnies, nor is it a “realistic” novel by Zola. It contains real pain, real tragedy, and real hope.

"Is It Really Okay to Laugh About Sex?":

I'm not just talking about intercourse. Human sexuality is about so much more than that. It's about the incredibly weird cosmic joke that two things work together only when they're opposites of each other. It's about the baffling irony that innuendo speaks louder than frankness. It's the dance between power and helplessness, and the eye-popping switcheroo when you realize that the balance has silently and profoundly shifted. It's the fearful delight of discovering yet more doors to open. And the blessed defeat when you discover that sometimes, you'll only get what you need once you give up grasping for it so hungrily.

"California's Gods":

In California, there's The 5, The 405, The 10. Each of these freeways has its own quirks, a personality of sorts. They aren't just stretches of pavement but presences, creatures that necessitate the definite article by their very individuality and uniqueness.

"Writing Excuses": new-to-me really great podcast for writers (and probably also for sci-fi/fantasy fans generally, if you like the-man-behind-the-curtain sort of stuff).

"Untangling the Threads of Gluttony":

 As I have been struggling with weight maintenance more than usual this month, I have found myself contemplating the two dominant narratives about weight loss and weight gain, and why neither of them ultimately satisfies.

 "North Carolina, Biden, and Same-Sex Marriage":

What’s at issue is whether the government will recognize such unions as marriages — and then force every citizen and business to do so as well. This isn’t the legalization of something, this is the coercion and compulsion of others to recognize and affirm same-sex unions as marriages.

And, on a not-directly-related note: it looks like our parish church is likely to lose its building soon. Pray for us. What keeps coming to my mind is the verse from Proverbs that says, "It is better to go to a house of mourning than a house of feasting, and the wise take it to heart." I'm so glad to be part of All Saints, Long Beach.

Peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

A Couple Small Projects: Hair Clips & a Pillow

In between working on crochet projects, I've finished a few other small things here and there.

This week I organized my girls' hair stuff drawer (yes, a whole drawer - three girls, lots of hair) and I pulled out bows that had been worn till tarnished and dirty and flower clips with flowers falling off and the like.

The flower clips I repaired by adding some extra blossoms (forgive the busy newspaper print underneath the clips):

The dirty bows I pulled off and threw away, and then I hot-glued new flowers onto the still-useful clips (you can see the clip at the far left awaiting its blossoms):
I repaired a couple of headbands (gluing feathers and flowers back on) and then made a little something for me, perfect for sticking into one side of an updo (it's glued to a clear acrylic hair comb, which you can see under the flower if you look closely):

I love how quickly you can make something pretty with hot glue. Before I married my husband, I thought hot glue was fussy and more trouble than it was worth. But . . . I was wrong. He converted me! (Though, I don't think I've ever seen him use it to make hair things . . )

Also, since I had the sewing machine out for a larger project (that's still in process), I whipped up a quick throw pillow using a couple of large, pretty cloth napkins I'd bought on clearance, oh, a year ago? Here it is:

Forgive the bad light (it's been cloudy here), but isn't that embroidery lovely? Since the napkins already had that lovely, thick hemming job on them, I just cut the tags off and then traced the already existent-stitching with my sewing machine to sew the two together, right sides out, left a small hole, stuffed them with fiberfill, and stitched up the opening. Result: pillow!

It was so easy, I want to keep my eyes out for more pretty napkins at Marshall's!

It's nice to have some little things finished in the midst of bigger projects. Gives me the juice to keep going.

Speaking of bigger projects, because I so needed another one, I just started a cardigan in broomstick lace:

Yeah. I'm hopeless. :) Truth is, handiwork, I find, much like exercise and writing, fights the winter blues. Something about the tangible, actual, beauty of it makes me feel that life can't be as bad as I'm sometimes tempted to think. It's as if producing order in the work between the tips of my fingers restores the order in my emotions and my mind. It's a very great gift, work. Praise God for it. Amen.

Peace of Christ to you,

Jessica Snell

Advent

I haven't been blogging through Advent for a very good reason: I've been observing Advent.

I haven't been blogging through Advent for some bad reasons too, but since they are the usual, boring, sinful reasons (sloth, etc.), I'll let them lie.

But Advent! This has been a good Advent. It's been a hard Advent.

For the first time since the twins were born, it looks like Advent around here. We're doing an Advent wreath and a Jesse tree, and the devotions to go with. The children are all really learning the Christmas story and the history that preceded Christ's coming. (It comes out in their play. There were two Marys and one Elizabeth wandering up and down the stairs this morning, and at least a couple death threats from King Herod towards the camel.)

And I've been reading Revelation and Isaiah and the gospels and the psalms, and it's sinking into my heart.

I've been praying, and thinking about prayer. I don't know if I've got much worth saying about it yet, but I've been remembering my impression as a new wife (very new - it was an impression formed during my honeymoon) that the most important part of my role as a wife and mother would be to pray for my family.

I've been reading and listening to Dallas Willard, and praying and thinking about prayer some more.

I've been fighting what's starting to look like a seasonal depression, and beginning to understand (I think) why it's happening. I don't think it's about light. I think, three years ago, when I thought half of my family was going to die*, my body got used to fighting despair around this time of year, and I haven't kicked the habit of battening down all the hatches after All Saints' Day and not coming out till after the New Year. Can a body form a seasonal habit of depression based on one truly, truly stressful experience?** It surely feels like it. I feel like a wuss just saying it, but there it is. My journal entries from this time of year this year are almost identical to the ones the year before; I'm not imagining it.

And I was just about to type, "this experience hasn't been altogether awful", but I realized that that's not true; experientially, it has been. But I have hope that it might turn into something not awful, especially if I can learn to turn towards help instead of away when I feel weak and worthless.

And I've thought a lot about Christ coming into our dark world. There's a version of "The Carol of the Bells" done by the TransSiberian Orchestra that makes you think, "Christmas: the Action Movie", what with all the electric guitar and wild, wailing chords. But that just makes me think of "The Dream of the Rood"'s vision of "the young hero, Christ" who stepped onto the cross (willingly, of his own accord), and how Advent is really that: the story of the hero, choosing the adventure, the tragedy even, for the sake of those he loved. 

(And just like Lent: you can't keep the secret: it's not a tragedy, it's a eucatastrophe, it's all turned around, from the inside out, and the worst thing becomes the best thing, and he wins and it's  a victory and it's all brilliantly, brilliantly redeemed - and so instead of dirges this season, we sing carols, because he's come not just to die, but to rise, and better yet, to go and then to come back and to take us with him. To make us like him. And if you know him at all, well, then you know what good news that is.)

He's with us. And he was with us. Here, in this darkness, in this bleak midwinter. To quote Stephen Lawhead, He knows.

So. That is what I have. There's so much more I've been thinking about, but it feels like a season to take things in, and not to spew it all out in writing, because everything inside me needs to sit for awhile, and settle. But I can't help saying: He came. He is good. I'm so glad. 

May you all have a blessed and joyous Advent. 

Peace of Christ to you,

Jessica Snell

*My twins had a serious, potentially fatal in-utero condition and my husband had cancer.

**Since writing this, I've found out that, actually, yes, it can. Apparently it's a pretty common reaction.