Sam Jolman, MA

Resolution

2009-01-09T13:57:00.008-07:00

A new year always marks a new beginning, a rare moment of looking forward, looking back, looking within. For a couple days - until we go back to work at least - the human community at large takes a collective introspective moment to reflect on life. We get to think about our last year, about our dreams for the future, about how life is going up to this point. We tune in to the deeper stuff of life. It’s like we all take… inhale… one deep breath together… ahh…

And what do we do with this reflection? Culturally we really have one option: form resolutions for the New Year ahead. The resolution frenzy is well under way. You may have some yourself. All this introspective soul searching about our dreams and desires gets parceled up into bite sized changeable chunks that we then resolve to throw our best efforts at for a year.

And in this way resolutions are an odd thing. They’re actually pretty limiting. You can only resolve to change something in your power. I’m not dogging this. But the danger is that we reflect on our lives exclusively in terms of what we can control. And what if what you want changed in your life is actually beyond your control? Maybe you want to get married. Maybe you want your chronic pain to go away. Maybe you want your spouse to love you more. Or you want a more fulfilling job. Maybe you want world hunger to end. Okay, so you can play a part in some of this change. But not all of life is in your hands. And that’s the hardest stuff of life. What do we do with this?

I know we understand a resolution as being a function of our will, a personal commitment we make. Resolution, you may remember, is also “…the point in a literary work at which the chief dramatic complication is worked out,” according to Merriam Webster’s dictionary. All great stories are built on this dramatic tension. And its this tension we as the reader yearn to have resolved for the main character.

Take movies as an example. We as the audience get to watch the life of another as it plunges deep into some unnerving plot. A love story is underfoot. Or a war. Maybe a tragedy engulfs the main character. Or against all odds he pursues a personal dream. And we with him or her or them get further and further into the anxiety of the story. Hope competes with fear in the final moment of climax. And then… and then… resolution comes. She gets the man. The hero spills his blood to defeat evil. His life endeavor is met with fulfillment. We cry, we laugh, we sigh. That’s what we love most about movies, about stories. We get the resolution at the end.

Your life is a story too. You live in dramatic tension. You know this already, I’m sure. As Bishop N.T. Wright has said, we are all caught up “…in a story in search of an ending.” I love that. The struggles, the dreams, the desires, the longings we all carry within us are searching for an ending. This is includes all that stuff that may be out of our control. We all long for resolution as much as we commit to it. We all want to change as much as we work to change. In fact, the desire precedes the discipline. It must. That’s not rocket science folks. But most of us blow passed the longing behind our discipline in 0.8 seconds flat. And so our hearts get minimized into personally changeable goals.

So I’ve got a suggestion for you, for this year, a resolution to put on the list. How about spending this year getting more in tune with your hearts desires, your dreams, your hopes as much as you discipline yourself to try and change your life. Do something with the stuff out of your control. Pause longer in the longing. Give your heart a voice. Maybe you make this your prayer life.

I’ll leave you with a resolution I found written by the great Puritan Theologian, Jonathan Edwards. This one's big enough to live in.

Resolved, very much to exercise myself in this all my life long, that is, with the greatest openness I am capable of, to declare my ways to God, and lay open my soul to him: all my sins, temptations, difficulties, sorrows, fears, hopes, desires, and everything and every circumstance.

Everybody's Got a Hungry Heart

2008-12-18T14:16:00.011-07:00

Lunch time on a normal day of counseling had me heading home for a bite to eat. This was a couple months ago. The menu was going to be whatever leftovers I could zap back to life in the microwave. I wheeled up to my house and was about to get out when the song on the radio froze me in my seat.

Everybody's got a hungry heart
Everybody's got a hungry heart
Lay down your money and you play your part
Everybody's got a hungry heart

Bruce Springsteen wailed his poetry over and over through those well used vocal cords. His words sat on my chest like one of those lead x-ray aprons at the dentist office. My heart would not let me get up. When was the last time I'd thought about my heart and its hunger? And how did something that important slip out of conciousness? But just that quickly, the song ended and my stomach reminded me to take care of my other hunger. And after lunch, the treadmill of life carried me into all those next things I seem to always have waiting.

A week passed. On a Saturday morning, I was now sitting with a warm cup of coffee, a Starbucks table, and my journal. It was one of those rare moments to push back on life’s busy current. And it was right in the middle of some pretty scary events in my life. I was afraid. My circumstances had left me vulnerable to personal and financial hardship. Sound familiar? This is what I was journaling about.

When I left Starbucks, I got in my car and turned it on to find ole Bruce belting out his thousand pound words yet again. And with my heart raw from journaling, I was even more vulnerable to the gravity of their reality. This time, under the internal weight, my heart sighed a prayer to God something about how it would be nice to have my heart noticed, to be seen by Him, to know he cared about my heart. Again I zipped off to the rest of my day. But the heaviness of all this lingered longer this time. Springsteen’s words gave God a foot in the door of my heart.

Not but a few hours later, I fumbled back into my car. And I kid you not; there was Bruce on the radio lamenting our human condition all over again. Everbody’s got a hungry heart. Everybody’s got a hungry heart. I rarely ever here this song. This was getting spooky. Clearly now I was not alone in my car. Knowing this was not coincidence, I finally asked God what he was trying to say to me. Apparently, He needed to tell me something.

“I love you and I see what you need.”

To have a hungry heart and believe that no one cares about it might be the most miserable thing in the world. To have a hungry heart and know someone is really listening might be the best thing in the world. There’s not much grey area here, folks.

So at this point in telling this story, I am afraid you may be growing cynical. I just told you that I believe God really did see me and even that he orchestrated the timing of those songs. And even more that he spoke to my heart that he loves me. And I know. Times are tough. Life is tough. But God did not take away the circumstances that made me afraid. He only let me know he cares. Loneliness trumps hardship, my friends. That's why it made all the difference in the world to know God saw my hungry heart. I was not alone.

Everybody needs a place to rest
Everybody wants to have a home
Don't make no difference what nobody says
Ain't nobody like to be alone
Everybody's got a hungry heart...

Book Review: The Last American Man

2008-11-26T23:19:00.006-07:00

You will notice right away this book is not psychological self help. I read self help too, but find it often leaves me feeling just plain confused. Its sort of like watching a movie from the front row of a theater. Things appear large and more detailed but my eyes usually hurt from trying to focus so much. There is such a thing as analyzing your life too much. To that end, I commend to you The Last American Man by Elizabeth Gilbert - a biography, a human study, a real life story of one man. Sometimes hearing someone else’s story can bring clarity to our own lives that insight alone cannot deliver. And this story will certainly not disappoint you.

Meet Eustace Conway through the eyes of author Elizabeth Gilbert (yes, the Eat Pray Love writer). Eustace is a brilliant charismatic naturalist still alive somewhere in the woods of North Carolina. It seems odd to have a biography of someone still living, unless they’ve been a president or overcome some amazing obstacle to accomplish some grand feat. I guess in that regard, Eustace Conway is the later.

You don’t have to read too long to learn that Eustace has accomplished much with his young life. He survived in the woods for a week at age 12 without bringing food or shelter with him. At age 17 he hiked the Appalachian Trail doing 30 miles a day in sneakers and a loin cloth. Almost without catching his breath, he was on to kayak Alaska and then to living with the most primitive tribe he could find in Guatemala. And just for adventure sake, he galloped across America on horseback and set a new record for the fastest trip from coast to coast by horse. And that’s not to mention his daily life of living in a teepee, running a full nature camp, making his own clothes, and eating road kill. Eustace Conway has indeed done a lot of amazing things.

And all of this is killing him because none of this is getting him the thing he wants most - his father's validation and love. Eustace Conway has a massive father wound. This is his greatest obstacle. It almost bleeds off the page. Some parts of the book are absolutely heart breaking. Here is just a taste of the words his father uses to obliterate his son. “You are so stupid. I’ve never met a child more dimwitted. I don’t know how I could have sired so idiotic a son. What are we to surmise? I believe you are simply incompetent and will never learn anything.” (p.30) Daily, methodically, deliberately his father bludgeoned his son with similar tirades.

Like everything else in his life, Eustace has put herculean efforts into pleading with his father for some relief, some validation, some love. From age 12 to the present, he has written letters to his father as penance and petition for mercy. Well into adulthood, he wrote: “I have an overwhelming need to be accepted by you, to be appreciated, acknowledged, recognized for something better than trash… I have a great void where I look for love. All I have ever wanted is your love. Perhaps I should accept defeat and stay away from you. But denial and distance do not satisfy the need for your acceptance” (p.105). His father has never responded to any of his letters.

If you’ve ever wondered at the impact of a father’s love on a man, read this book and have your heart torn in two for Eustace Conway. You may find new eyes, new curiosity, new compassion for your own story and the stories of the men in your life.

Check out the Resources page of my website to purchase this book from my Amazon.com bookstore.

Restoring Broken Things

2008-11-12T11:18:00.003-07:00

You may have noticed my unofficial sabbatical from doing any writing whatsoever for the last few months. I know. I’ve committed the chief of all blogging sins. So here’s the story.

At the beginning of the summer, we purchased a historic home with the hopes of renovating it and restoring it to its original Victorian Lady charm. Its old, 116 years old to be exact. Old. Like back when horsepower meant the actual horse hitched up in your back yard. And the first owners of our home probably did have horses in the backyard. But all these years have taken their toll on this antique homestead. Sagging wooden floors, plaster falling from ceilings, out of date wiring. Add to this all the unkempt years of neglectful renters. Our Victorian Beauty needed some lovin’!

We started this whole venture awash in romanticized sentiments that restoring an old home is like a really fun hobby. Or some symbolic spiritual pilgrimage. I grew up pumped full of This Old House episodes with Bob Villa and still love that show. But they make the process seem so laden with excitement and effortless progress. And not a single worker on that show ever breaks a sweat or dirties their clothing. Somehow I imagined our weekends being full of similar restful energizing work.

At some point several weeks into our project, amid so much dust and detritus and 16 hour work days, I finally let myself admit I had lost all romantic ideals about our renovation project. I was now just plain afraid. I was standing in an expensive pile of rubble. In the name of change and restoration, we had produced one grand mortgage backed mess. Here we had gone and dismantled a perfectly good home. And without any prior experience at this, I really feared that we might never emerge like we hoped and planned.

That fear is surprisingly familiar to other areas of my life. Change seems to carry a romantic sense to it. But eventually the idea of change melds into the harder, sometimes downright discouraging work of changing. Yes, I want to love my wife more courageously. Yes, I want to be more in shape. Yes, I want to listen to God more. And then its 30 degrees out when I get up to run. Or a time of pursuing my wife crumbles into an all out fight. Or I spend a whole hour with God daydreaming about something we have to do on our house. I start to wonder if I’ll ever change. Fear shouts its resounding, “No!”

Take something like counseling. I hear so often in my office the sighs of relief from folks who have finally taken the step of getting counseling. The hope of change wafts in with them like fresh spring air after winter. And then we get to work… for a couple months. And that’s expensive. And will it actually work? Will it pay off? And I’m reminded so often of that Garth Brook’s line, “This is how it seems to me. Life is only therapy. Real expensive and no guarantee.” And I have to tell my clients change does not come in pill form. Change is a process you just have to trust sometimes. Trust.

Well, we’ve emerged from our house project. And it looks really good. Those wood floors have a beautiful sheen to them. The stained glass chandelier hangs magnificently in the dining room. My wife can often be heard sighing with relief and exclaiming, “I can’t believe this is our house!” Indeed. How did we make it? We had to learn to trust the process.

We did get our spiritual pilgrimage.

Man vs. Life

2008-06-09T15:09:00.002-06:00

“What does man gain by all his labor at which he toils under the sun?” Ecclesiastes 1:3

“Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?” Robert Browning

With careful precision, a young toddler boy stacks small colored blocks precariously on top of each other. Aware that one bad placement could mean destruction, he slows his pace and steadies his hand to get his tower just a few inches higher. Satisfied with his efforts, he stands back and eyes his accomplishment. Suddenly, as if transformed into some wild beast, he lunges at the wooden structure swinging his arms in abandoned fury. Blocks cascade to the floor and the young boy collapses into giggled euphoria. His delight lasts only a moment before he is set building another in order to repeat the whole process.

Why is this scene so familiar to us? It seems that it gets played out in the life of every boy. What is it about a boy that loves to build towers and tree forts, to dig holes and blow up fireworks, to attack enemies and destroy things?

I believe it is the masculine longing to impact the world. If we are truly honest, this longing is innate in our gender and only deepens as a boy becomes a man. And as with the boy who builds his tower all over again, rarely is our desire ever satisfied. The tension between the desire to impact our world and the disappointment when it does not last or is not enough drives men into a profound vortex known as futility.

I heard this in a conversation between two men at Home Depot a few weeks ago. They were selecting the right nails for their project as we shared the hardware aisle together. One man turned to the other and said passionately, “Too bad I didn’t bring my nail gun!” His friend, a bit confused and annoyed, replied, “Why? We don’t need it. We only have a few nails to put in.” The nail gun man clearly took his friends comment pretty hard. He shot back, “Yeah, but I like to use it and rarely get to.” Did you hear that? The nail gun was this guys chance to come through on this job, to have his strength make a difference in his world. And his friend thwarted him, shut his desire down. My heart sank with his. Futility strikes again.

Work is only one area of life where we men struggle with feeling like we are not enough for the task. We may have a great night with our wives, even pull off romance well, but then we awake to another day of marriage, another day we need to love her. Or take finances. Two days after my paycheck hits the bank account, its devoured by a thousand hungry life needs. Why does our strength never feel like enough?

I think God is responsible for this whole nagging futility deal. Back in Genesis, after Adam and Eve first sinned, God cursed each of them uniquely. Here’s Adams: “Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life” (3:17). As Dan Allender has pointed out, the curse on Adam affects more than just farming. God levels a blow on Adam in his strength. And on all man as his sons.

God prevents our masculine strength from ever being enough. Its easy to see the curse as the backhand of an angry God. But as John Eldredge says, the curse is actually wildly redemptive. God wounds us as men, gives us a limp so to speak in the place we are wired to come through, right in our strength. And he does it to protect us from living independently, from living the lone ranger life, from living godless. Futility and frustration are meant make us aware that we need God. And lead us back into relationship with Him.

I think God gets to men most often through our anger. God is trying to provoke us. He wants a fight, wants to wrestle with us, and knows that a man must walk into his rage to get his heart. Not every struggle in life is His doing. We do have Satan as an enemy. But most assuredly, some of the struggles in your life come from God. He will trash your life to get to your heart.

A few years ago, while in grad school, I had a string of car problems over a few month period that totaled over $5000. It was terrible. One day during this time, I noticed my muffler was growing especially loud. My heart sank. Here we go again, I thought. I half heartedly turned to prayer, asking God to take care of it, to get me through this, to fix my car. I kid you not, right in the middle of my prayer, my muffler fell completely off. I saw it skid along the road in my rearview mirror. I was enraged. I cussed. I yelled at God. And then the shock of what had just happened actually made me listen to God. He had my attention. And what did I hear?

“I’m trying to get to your heart.”

Next time your world as a man does not work out, next time something on the car breaks or you have some crisis with your wife, and the “I’m not enough” futility gnaws your insides, may you hear God’s invitation back into relationship.

The Art of Counseling

2008-04-16T09:55:00.004-06:00

“How did you do that?” I exclaimed to my counselor, Peter, as we got up to end our session. About an hour ago, I walked into his office a mess inside, feeling like a ball of tangled kite string. And in an hour he had helped me unravel some of those messy feelings, see my life differently, shed tears, and leave more hopeful, more connected to my heart. It amazed me. So how did he do that? “It’s an art,” he replied.

Art? Can counseling be an art? I thought. And hey, wait a minute, wasn’t that my messy, broken life he was talking about. That borders on being insulting. Engaging my pain and brokenness is a form of art for him. Do I like that? I’ve had a few years to think about his comment. Now as a therapist myself, I’ve come to believe more and more the truth of Peter’s statement. Counseling is an art.

That’s Biblical by the way – consistent with the Christian story. If we look back at Genesis 1, to God’s work of creation, his artist studio, we find that God began his masterpiece with a mess.

Genesis 1:2
“Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

Formless and empty, covered in darkness. Others have used words like chaos. Yep, that sounds like my life sometimes. And it was within this chaos that the Spirit of God did his creative work, his art. He spoke into this mess. He filled the emptiness with life. He created a universe of order and beauty out of the formless mess. He brought light to bear on the darkness.

The story doesn’t end here, though. We do not live with the beautiful, ordered, living world created in Eden by God. When Adam and Eve sinned, the world fell again into chaos, mess intermingled with vestiges of God’s creative touch. The world became like a bombed out art museum. We have breath-taking sunsets amidst terrorist bomb threats and global warming. We, too, are a mess now, though we all bear the original glorious creative design of God.

But... when we pursue any growth, change, healing in our lives, we mimic God’s original work of creation. Eden's glory returns in a way. Our emptiness, mess, darkness become filled with life, order, beauty, and light. We recover our artistic glory.

Recently I heard the story of some local artists in Mozambique that inspired the pants off me. You may remember that Mozambique suffered for 17 years under a brutal civil war. The country has been working with programs that allow folks to trade weapons for farm implements. A group of artists have taken these collected weapons – ak-47’s and grenade launchers – and welded them together in the shape of the Tree of Life. The same weapons that literally took life now stand as a symbol of life. It’s such a moving picture of art birthed out of pain.

Counseling can offer a process of turning our chaos and pain into art. You may or may not ever produce actual art from your healing journey, like these African artists. Either way, your life can be a work of art again. Beauty and glory can be birthed form your broken life.

Our Love of Shame

2008-03-27T13:30:00.006-06:00

“Their rulers dearly love shame.” Hosea 4:18

In college, I struggled with using pornography. It was an accessible, covert drug for me. I used it to cope with stress, depression, and pain. But it was not pornography alone that I used as a medication. I loved the shame that came afterward. Yeah, you heard me right. I loved the shame. Now, if you asked me, I would have told you I hated shame. Its nasty stuff, like black tar that gets stuck to your insides and will not wash off. Or a stomach ache after too much candy. Only much worse and much more spiritual. Its more like your soul has a hangover.

But I got a lot out of shame. Shame was so motivating to me. When I felt so terrible and despicable inside, I got a lot done. I used to wash my car, organize my finances, read, call old friends, go exercise, go to church consistently. Anything I could do to clean up or bring order to my external life, I did. These were my self directed acts of penance. Before I turned to God, I felt like I needed to make myself decent, clean up my act, get my appearance right, get some control. As much as I loved the temporary relief that pornography gave me, I loved the motivation and pseudo energy that shame gave me just as much. It seemed to give me the kick in the butt I needed to reorder my life. And this motivated me about as long as a sugar rush.

And all of this kept me from God. Yeah, I hid in it. I did not want to really admit to myself or to God that I needed love, that I needed help, that I felt like a mess. I did not let myself risk being loved.

Of course, I’m not talking about real shame. Real shame, or true guilt, is meant to show up when we do something wrong. It invites us be loved, to be vulnerable, to be sorrowful for what we did. And it produces life. Listen to the fruit of such guilt as described by the ancient Biblical sage Paul:

“You're more alive, more concerned, more sensitive, more reverent, more human, more passionate, more responsible.” 2 Corinthians 7:11 (the Message)

When we really see what we did wrong, how we’ve hurt others, offended God, true guilt invites us back to life, back into being loved. Yes, through sorrow, maybe even tears, we get our human dignity back. It draws us into relationship rather than turning us back in on ourselves.

And that’s the result of false shame – the black tar stuff. It turns us on ourselves, to hate ourselves. “How could you be so stupid!” says false shame. “You idiot!” This is the self contempt that made me so productive at cleaning up my life. I worked really hard to feel loved again, driven by the whip of my own inner hatred. Sadly, precisely when we hate ourselves, we cannot receive love. And in part, this is what we get from turning to our shame; we do not have to risk receiving love.

Let me say that again. That is what we love about shame! We do not have to risk being loved.

If we punish ourselves with contempt, we do not really have to be vulnerable to others or to God. We are afraid of God’s angry back handed slap across the face. I have a friend who used to think he would lose his job or get in a car accident or be robbed for the 24 hours after he looked at porn. Another friend admitted he feared God would keep him from getting married or make him marry someone ugly. I’m guessing here, but I bet the rumor that masturbation leads to blindness was started by someone struggling with the fear of what God would do to him.

If Adam and Eve had listened to their real guilt, they would have gone to find God. Seriously. That sounds crazy doesn’t it?! They would have gone naked to God and asked for mercy. Instead, God had to find them hidden in the shrubbery of the Garden of Eden.

I know we do not normally think of shame as something we enjoy. Why would anyone want to embrace something like this? But shame is so much easier to handle than love. Oh, yes, love is what we need. But true love as C.S. Lewis says, is more stern and splendid than mere kindness.

What does shame tempt you to do? How does it keep you from love?

Drink Your Masculinity

2008-03-09T15:33:00.019-06:00

If you want to sell something forget the scantily clad blond bombshell draped over the car hood. Go right to the father hunger in every man. Show pictures of fathers doing things that seem masculine. And confident. Point out their virility and adventurousness! No man wants an insecure metrosexual, gelding for a dad. That just will not sell. He's gotta score with chicks and mock the insecure. And then talk about them passing on a legacy or blessing to their sons. Insert your product at this point so that men think affirmation comes in a bottle. You've heard of Liquid Courage, right? Well, now we have Liquid Fathering. Your dad consumed our product and look what kind of man he became. And aren’t you his son? Swell your chest and drink up, man, for you too are cut from his stock. We’re not selling whisky. We’re selling masculinity!

My wife found one of these ads in an outdoor magazine. I was drawn to the statement it makes about a sons desire to take pride in his father. But the types of fathers these ads speak about are repulsive. What a powerful revelation about the reality of men in our culture. We can now sell products drawing solely on men's hunger to be fathered. When sex no longer sells, try fathering. They obviously are on to what we thirst for, but are clueless how to quench it.

Makes me think of a quote a friend sent me recently.

"They speak only of my drinking,
But never think of my thirst."

Scottish Proverb

Male Friendship

2008-02-28T10:04:00.003-07:00

My wife taught junior high for several years. She chose this job, felt called to it. Believe it or not, she even loved it. She especially enjoyed observing these adults in training and had an insightful eye on their wild and weird stage of development.

I found one of her observations about the junior high boys absolutely stunning. “The boys touch each other all the time. I notice how often in the halls they wrestle or give each other head locks or push each other a little. Its like they need all kinds of physical touch with each other.” That fascinated me. And being a man, once a puberty laden young lad myself, I did think back on how often we did the same as guys. In 8th grade, my friend Dan invited a group of us guys to his house for a sleepover dedicated to wrestling. We threw his bed comforter on the floor as the ring and went man on man for hours! I even remember sharing a bed with all the guys at the end of the night. Yeah, six of us guys in one king size bed with no shame whatsoever. And of course! We had just wrestled for hours together.

What is it about us guys that longs to be tested against another man’s strength? Why do we seek out masculine contact like this? We innately love a fight. If there’s a chance we could win, we’d love to jump in the fray!

Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” I think the author of Proverbs is referring to and even affirming this desire to rub with other men. Note that Proverbs was written by a father for his son. It certainly has implications for men and women, but it was originally written as a means for a father to bestow masculine love and wisdom to his son.

God seems to have intended for this competitive deal within the world of men. When we are tested against another man, we get the close male rub we need to become men. As my wife had an eye to see, during all the pushing and wrestling and headlocks, these young men were getting a lot of physical close contact. And we men need that physical and emotional contact. We need other friends, close friends to survive the world and keep heart as men.

I find this at work in my relationships with my friends. We may not wrestle physically a lot (although that does happen and probably needs to happen more), but we do relationally go toe to toe quite a bit. Just today a friend and I had a messy confrontational conversation about our friendship. It was powerful and frustrating all at the same time. I felt the masculine rub, the strength on strength, man to man of it. We could have been two linebackers pushing on each other at the snap.

If my observations are correct, then it seems most guys are also threatened by male intimacy, going deep with other guys. Why is that?

This male contact can obviously go very bad, very fast. As with all things God created, the power something has for our good can be twisted for equally powerful harm. Sex is the climax of marital intimacy, but sexual abuse can devastate someone a whole life long. Masculine testing with other men can give us the rub we need, the closeness we crave with other guys, the development we need. But it can also shut men down, cause them to retreat from any male engagement in order to stay safe, if another man uses his power to try and dominate another man. Strength on strength to a very insecure man may become threatening and turn for him into a chance to take strength over another man.

Fathers and elders make the difference. A den of young wolf pups will wrestle and play and even bite at each other under the supervision of the elder wolves. But the bite is playful, like you get form a young puppy. A pack of wolves without an alpha male will tear at each other, fighting to the death, vying for the top position.

I played soccer as a freshman in high school. My gifts are not in the realm of athletics, but I loved the physical play with other guys, the relationships I made with my friends on the team. One day, a junior named Mike came over to a group of us during practice and commented that next year we better work really hard and pull our weight on the team or the upper classmen would haze us. Later that year, we saw a sophomore get thrown in the swamp behind near our soccer field for this reason. After that season, I quit. I was not about to test my strength against this guy where I was sure to lose.

This upperclassman needed the coach to put him in his place. I needed the coach to put him in his place. He had too much power over the team for his age. If you’ve ever read Lord of the Flies, you will know exactly what I’m talking about. A group of young civilized boys become stranded on an island without any older men around. They soon form factions that war against each other. The weakest boy is killed; anarchy reigns. Sounds like the Middle East – fatherless men scrapping constantly for power. Sounds like most junior highs. We need fathers or elders to help us know how to handle power and male affection.

For male friendship to allow for good masculine rub, iron sharpening iron, each man must have a strong awareness of his continued need for fathering. Unfathered men who do not acknowledge they are unfathered make terrible friends. Avoid them like the plague. You will notice that most arrogant types are lonely men. They may seem powerful and impressive at work or on the basketball court or on stage, but no one really wants to hang out with them for long. You just cannot get close. They are really too threatened by intimacy, not realizing that being vulnerable in male friendships gives us a safe place to discover what we are made of, even discover and connect to our need for more fathering.

Stephen Ambrose, in his book Comrades, notes that Richard Nixon lived with no friends whatsoever. He never trusted another man and thought it was weak even though he could acknowledge how other men found it therapeutic to have close friends. In his own words, “the minute you start getting familiar with people, they start taking advantage… I believe you should keep your troubles to yourself.” Ambrose points out that the biographies of Nixon are filled with the theme of him being an unloved boy in his family and ridiculed by his peers at a young age. He was unwilling to look at this pain and find the freedom to trust other friends. A sad story.

May you find good men to get close to and be tested against. And when you feel threatened, may the love of God your Father help you drop your fists, open your heart, and receive ever more fathering.

The Wild Wonders

2008-01-31T09:53:00.000-07:00

Golden Retriever oblivious to the world of men
Cocks his head trying to understand,
How we have no fun as often as we can,
And with a tail wag he darts off again,
To find another stick and leave our world to mend
And so the wild wonders and awaits the man.

It was Saturday. I caught a glimpse of a neighbors dog playing whole heartedly with a stick, while I sat inside being productive. Yes, on a Saturday. I felt so ashamed of myself when I saw this. A feeling like I had let myself go. Not gaining weight, but letting some part of me atrophe, my masculine play.

I don't believe in the rugged male trumps soft male dichotomy in the world of men. I believe instead that being a rugged, adventurous male should make me more of a soft male... and vice versa. Moutain biking will help me weep with a friend. Snowboarding can draw out the risk I need to be close to my wife and talk late into the night. True wildness is soft and rugged... weird as that sounds.

And through my neighbors dog, God reminded me that the offer still stands to be a truly wild man.

The Human Hunger for Words

2008-01-25T14:39:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed I now have an endorsements page on my website. Asking for those endorsements was quite a journey for me, more than I anticipated, putting me face to face with just how powerful words can be in my own life. So I’ve been meditating on the human hunger for words lately and thought I'd share a few things I'm learning.

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Remember that playground rebuttal? I remember reciting it to my boyhood antagonists. Oh, did it ever feel so clever, so poetic, so battle worthy. And oh, what a terrible lie, about as useful as a rubber sword. Words hurt and injury much deeper, for much longer than sticks and stones. They just aren’t that easy to forget. In fact, we are designed to be impacted by words. The need for affirmation and blessing is fundamental to being human.

Author Leanne Payne says of us as humans, “We are dialogical beings. We become in dialogue with others.” Let me say that a little bit differently. To be human is to hunger for words. As our lungs breath air and our stomach digests food, so our hearts crave affirmation and absorb blessing. From birth to death, at every age in between, we need dialogue with others. And its this meaningful conversation that shapes our development. We become the words we receive. Our hearts are nourished on them or famished if we do not get them. If we stop receiving these words we stop growing.

Okay, so its not just words alone that do it. The words must come from people with power to bless, from people we want to receive from, from people we trust and let in to our hearts. For children, our parents are the primary place we receive dialogue. Our parents help us learn who we are. Parents rarely realize the power of words. “Good job, son!” or “You’re such a princess, sweety!” can be water on thirsty ground in a child’s heart. Coaches, mentors, close friends also feed our needs. As adults, we listen to spouses and friends and mentors. Yet, this dialogue primarily must come from God if we want to live out our true selves. Through his intimate personal words to us, as we wait in silence for him, we grow up even as adults. As Lottie Hillard has said, “We get snacks from other people. The feast is with God.”

If we do not get nourishing dialogue, or deny our need for it, we will inevitably be susceptible to other voices. A criticism from someone at work will set you spinning. Or that off handed comment you received in high school from a bully will define you years later. Even just the absence of words can echo in your soul their cry of invalidation. We all live in the words we receive from our lives. Our hearts can’t help but ingest them… good or bad.

This is why counseling works so powerfully, by the way. Counseling can be a place to receive nourishing, healing dialogue, a place to find a different voice from all those other “sentences” you’ve lived under your whole life.

So what words, whose words are you growing up into these days?

Subscribe to my Blog Letter

2008-01-01T20:16:00.006-07:00

Receive my blog posts by email as a Newsletter. Just submit your email address below. Posts are emailed monthly and you may unsubscribe anytime.

Stop Working On Your Marriage

2007-12-04T11:06:00.001-07:00

Recently, my wife and I started reading a marriage book together. After we finished the first chapter, my wife polled me for my reaction. I sat speechless for a bit and struggled to answer. Why? Because I was bugged! Irritated! And that felt wrong. I mean, this is important stuff right? Working on your marriage is a big deal, of huge importance, a necessity one might say. And so a wave of shame came about as soon as I admitted to myself this frustration with working on our marriage. Shame screamed, "What kind of man are you that you'd NOT want to work on your marriage?? Don't you love your wife!"

I turned my distant gaze back to Amanda. She was still waiting for my answer. As my eyes met hers, I realized I really DO love this woman. She's so much fun, deep hearted, beautiful, the woman in college that I harbored a crush on for a whole year. Our relationship had its struggles, has its struggles, but at the heart of relationship is this wonderful passion I really enjoy. So maybe I'm not a jerk who does not want to engage his wife. Maybe something else is bugging me.

As I gave my irritation more of a voice I discovered that I am bugged, not by the effort of growing more in love with my wife, but by the concept of "working on my marriage." It sounds more like a Saturday morning chore. Take out the trash. Clean the garage. Work on my marriage. How did this concept ever creep in? I seem to hear it a lot in marriage books. Its almost as if we could work on marriage and never actually enjoy any of it or delight in the person we've married. A duty divorced from desire. What a tragedy! Its got things turned upside down, out of place. As Mike Mason, author of the Mystery of Marriage, writes, "I... had never considered that in getting married one espouses not an institution but a person."

So as a marriage therapist, and a man married himself, I want to encourage you to stop working on your marriage. And "work" instead at enjoying your wife or husband again.

300 Movie Review: Initiation by Violence?

2007-10-10T17:02:00.001-06:00

How does a boy become a man? Does puberty usher him in? What about a first kiss or that first time behind the wheel? If you're at all familiar with the masculine journey, you'll know that a much deeper, more deliberate process is required to grow boys into men. We've named it initiation. With the help of older men, especially a father, a boy's awkward cumbersome adolscent strength is tested and affirmed and ultimately blessed within him. Through this process, his young boy heart stretches and grows and swells to fill out his new man-size body. This makes him into a man... those really good men we all need and want, those who love sacrificially and risk and cry. Men with a heart.

We've lost this concept, this ritual amongst men. So most men are trying to find it, even if they don't know it by name. We're all trying to become courageous men. I too am searching for initiation. I recently watched the movie "300" for that reason, knowing it deals with initiation. And it does... in terrrible ways.

The movie begins by walking through the story of how Spartan boys are intiated. 7 year old youths are violently ripped away from their mothers by the fathers. Thus inagurates many years of testing by violence. Fathers brutalize sons until they can fight back with strength. Sword training involves fathers bringing fists to the face of their sons. Even the boys themselves must attack each other to the point of murder to be blessed as real men. The use of wilderness - sending boys to the God given masculine training ground - involves starvation, brutal cold, and terror. Boys are trained to hate and kill. No place is given for mercy or love. Masculinity, in the Spartan eyes, is a hard steel coated thing, as inpenetrable as their molten shields.

It's easy to write off this masculine ritual by such portrayals. I myself sighed, "Good God, is this what men need? Is that how I become a man?" In ways, we do need male intervention with mom. We do need to be invited into the world of men, deliberately. We do need hardship and suffering to grow up. We do need wilderness to find life, to be tested, to rub with something more powerful than ourselves. But we need the kindness of men just as much. We need to learn how to weep as much as we need to learn how to shoot a shot gun.

Thank God his fathering is neither passive nor brutal. "Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father?... No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12). We have a Father who disciplines his sons and lavishes his love.

The Dwellings of Authentic Men

2007-07-09T11:30:00.000-06:00

No hook or rack can e'er be found
In the dwellings of authentic men
On which to hang the coats and cloaks
Of title, fame, and position

But once inside you'll here men chide
"Drop coat and stay awhile.
No need to cover and encumber your soul
With a thing so heavy and vile."

"For the heat and kindle of manly strength,"
Will pipe another from a bearded grin,
"Comes not from the garb one wears about,
but from the heart within."

A Recent Read

2007-06-27T15:20:00.001-06:00

Shame, according to C.S. Lewis, is like a warm liquid too hot to touch, but not to drink. "If you will accept it - if you will drink the cup to the bottom - you will find it very nourishing: but try to do anything else with it and it scalds." Our guilt or true shame can change us, nourish us, bring us healing if we accept it as honestly and as fully as we can. God created it to initiate healing and restoration. Try and dismiss it, minimize it, act like it never happened and you only get burned. Out of the Shadows, by Patrick Carnes, emphasized this reality all the more in the life of those impacted by sexual addiction.

From the addicts ritual of "acting out" to the belief system that drives addiction to the impact on the entire family, Dr. Carnes exposes with every page turn the pervasive destructive impact of sexual addiction. He also dismantles the false belief that secret sexual struggles, like a little pornography use, do not hurt anyone. In reality, no level of addiction is victimless. All addiction impacts how we relate with others and develops a pattern of manipulation, deception, and abuse. Add to this the fact that it keeps the addict from real relationships, those that could meet his or her real needs. And as Dr. Carnes says, "it can destroy a persons life in less than two years." In some example stories, suicide or murder did take the addicts life.

I was sobered up by reading this book. I got that sick gut feeling that comes when hearing about an atrocious evil, like the deliberate destruction of 911 or the horrors of the Holocaust. This is sinister stuff, my friends, a weapon of the Kingdom of Darkness.

What is the hope? That sexual addiction, if faced with courage and brutal honesty, can be defeated. A person can change. God does forgive and heal. God is slow to anger and lavish in his love. Remember, Jesus always met the sexually broken with immense mercy. The Cross of Christ dethroned the forces of evil and the resurrection brings the promise of new life. A person can heal from the pain that the addiction numbed. Love and trust in relationships can be found.

Don't go take a cold shower. Read this book instead.

Tall Oak Counseling Center

2007-06-11T15:36:00.001-06:00

Come later this summer, I will be joining Tall Oak Counseling Center.

I am very excited about this new venture! The counselors at Tall Oak are exceptional and they strive to do counseling in community, treating the whole family system and not one person. They also walk with God very closely as they guide people in the whole counseling/healing process. This way of doing counseling so much resonates with my heart. Being a lone range counselor has never been my dream. So I am very grateful to God that He opened up this opportunity for me to join these kindred hearts.

And, as you know from my website, trees are close to my heart. My love for trees was born out of my boyhood adventures climbing high up in their branches. God uses that image still, of being nestled in big wooden 'limbs', to remind me what it feels like to trust the strong arms of a Father.

Tall Oak is located behind Woodmen Valley Chapel, a short drive from I-25 on Woodmen. All current clients will be able to make the move with me. I'll let you know well in advance when the move will take place. My website will continue to be used for my practice even after the move, too. So stay tuned!

Mothers and Sons

2007-06-04T13:57:00.000-06:00

Last week, I got to teach on Mothers and Sons to a group of college age men attending the summer session of Training Ground (see my links). It was a great experience! These are some amazing guys. And we had a deep, intense but incredible time together.

Its becoming more well accepted that a father plays a huge role in a sons life, in his masculine journey, his becoming a man. But what about mom? What part does she play if any? That was the question we discussed. What does a man's journey look like with his mother? And how does that change as he gets older, moves out, gets married?

With the use of children's stories, movie clips, and the stuff of these guys stories, we talked through when we need our mothers immensely close, in infancy, and how we leave mom gradually throughout boyhood to explore the world beyond. We talked about the initiation years, how a man leaves his mom forever as a boy and returns to her to be respected as a man. And of, course we talked through how this all can go wrong... a father not coming to initation, a mother not letting go, or never nurturing in the first place, what a son does with his anger.

These guys were brave to shed tears, share honestly from their stories, and take another step in becoming all that their Father wants them to be as men. A beautiful time...

Welcome!

2007-06-01T10:34:00.001-06:00

Hey Folks! Welcome to my News and Reflections blog.

This will be a place to hear what's happening in my counseling practice and some reflections on the journey. I hope to update it bi-weekly or more. So come back when you can.