694

I was blown out of the water this morning.  As I opened up my other blog page, wanderingsthroughtheword.com the statistics on the home page surprised me.  Over 700 page views this week.  A little research and I discovered that 694 of those were from the nation of Israel.  

I had written a post about Psalm 137.  Perhaps that's what stimulated the surge in readers.  I don't know.  I wonder though.  My mind races.  And I am ever conscious of my own manic tendency toward a 'savior' mentality, and/or 'grandiose' thoughts.  

This is the way that works.  A simple fact that there were 694 page views from Israel.  It could be that something I wrote simply was picked up by the Google search engine, and resulted in the hits.  Did 694 people in Israel do a Google search on Psalm 137 and my post came up?  Could be that simple.  

But then I begin to wonder who those 694 people are.  Are they Christians, Jewish, or Muslim?  And is what I'm writing resonating with them.  From that my mind moves toward the question of ministry.  Have I stumbled into a new calling?  Has my blog become a platform for my own foreign missionary work?  Most of my page views come from the USA.  A sizable amount have come from Israel, and almost as many have come from the Ukraine.  
And then I wonder how I might make a significant difference.  My mind races. . .

Rein it in, Dave, rein it in.

I am not Israel's savior.  I am not destined to be the next Billy Graham.  

And then the verses come to mind, shared with me many years ago by a patient I came to know when I was serving as a hospital chaplain:

So shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:11

This is the thing.  Amid all the concerns that I might be headed in the direction of mania, there is this hope that to the extent I am a minister of the Gospel, God's Word, not mine, might have an impact in the lives of those who hear it.  I am not the savior (as my manic side would like to believe), but at the same time there is a Savior, and of him we bear witness.  

One final thought:  Could it be that God harnesses and uses the gifts of bipolar people for the sake of a bold witness to the world?  Can it be that this disease that could destroy me, might also be a gift to empower me?

A second 'final' thought:  Coming out of depression does not necessarily mean that a manic episode is imminent.  It's quite possible that an extended period of mood stability and a healthy balance is actually what is being experienced.  That would be alright.

Daring to have Joy

When mood swings are the problem, then one's tendency is to be concerned when one experiences either the highs or the lows associated with this disease, bipolar disorder.  Treating depression is a no brainer.  No one wants to feel that way.

But the struggle is what do you do at the other end of the spectrum?  

Currently, I am not depressed.  There is part of me that believes that thanks to the effectiveness of my medications I am at a point of a healthy balance.  I feel joy, yes joy, pure joy, in a way I haven't for years.  I catch myself smiling.  And wonder what's up.  Its been a while.  

Our lives are changing.  Over the last few years I've been limited in my ability to work and earn a livable wage.  We've been dependent on my wife's paycheck and my disability benefits.  Those stopped last year at this time, and a job opportunity opened up for me at a cabinet shop.  Today, I am anticipating resuming my pastoral ministry.  In addition to my work as a cabinet maker I will be serving a small congregation on a half time basis.  

This is a Godsend for us for it comes at a time when due to a variety of circumstances my wife chose to resign her position and is now unemployed.  For the time being I am the sole breadwinner in the house-- and it feels good for my ego.  Not that I delight in my wife's situation, but just to be here, once again, where I am earning enough to support my family is a good feeling.  Joyful, even.  

Energy is bubbling up inside of me.  I am planning on working close to full time at the cabinet shop, and half time in ministry.  Sounds like a lot, but the actual hours will be similar to what I often worked in ministry alone.  Most notably, as opposed to when I was disabled by depression, unable to even shower without effort, I now am quite convinced that I can do this.  And enjoy this.

The problem is that highs can be too high.  I have to be careful.  I have to monitor myself.  The call to return to ministry is neither a call to be a savior, nor to grandiose endeavors and quests.  Mania feels good,  too good, and one must guard against it and be wary of it.  

But what becomes of joy in living?

Exuberance.  Can we experience that without fear that it will give way to mania?  

One of the concerns I have is that fear of mania will deprive me of the opportunity to enjoy normal states of joy and delight.  I am convinced that I need to overcome that fear.  There are things that one can enjoy, without reservation, even if one is bipolar.  

And so I will march onward.  One day at a time.  And simply be thankful that the clouds of depression have lifted.  And pray that the other extreme is not looming near on the horizon.

Journey into the Bottle

Its a very common problem that many people simply do not understand.  Why do people become dependent on alcohol, lose control of their lives, often coming face to face with death, and then, in spite of everything that would shout out "Stop!", find themselves quite incapable of stopping.  

My views on alcoholism, or as I prefer to call it, a chemical dependency on alcohol, are rooted in my own personal experience.  As opposed to some, who from the first drink on were out of control, I drank moderately, and sporadically for most of my adult life.  Specifically, I could have a beer or two at times when it seemed appropriate, and then not have any for significant periods of time.  Football season was a time I liked a beer.  Beer and pizza was good.  But then as the weather turned cold, I had no interest in a cold one.  It might be months before I'd have another.

I might drink heavily when I was away at the pastor's conference.  And then nothing.  I could take it or leave it.  This was my story from the first drink I took when I was 18, through about my 45th birthday.  

And then things changed.  

Two things, actually, impacted my journey into the bottle.  First, I was prescribed Ativan as part of my medication in treatment of my depression and anxiety.  Ativan (lorazipam) is a drug that works in your brain in a similar way as alcohol, same receptors, so I am told.  It is highly addictive.  I decided to go off of Ativan and did so, virtually cold turkey.  Almost to the day, without realizing what I was doing, I substituted a couple of drinks a day for the Ativan I was taking.  This is classic "cross addiction".  I simply changed substances.

The second major contributing factor in my drinking, was that I began to drink for effect.  I needed it to sleep, to ease my tension and anxiety, and to relax from a day's work and stress.

The net result is that I went from an average of one or two drinks per week, to consuming 6 to 7 fluid ounces of Scotch a night, and this change happened almost immediately.  It didn't happen over the course of years, or months, but within days.  

There are three stages of addiction.  

When one first introduces alcohol into your system the body reacts negatively to it as a foreign substance.  Intoxication is the result.  This negative reaction of the body is found to be repulsive by some, and enjoyable by others.  My wife has never been able to tolerate even the smallest amount of intoxication.  I rather enjoyed the "buzz".  But whether one finds intoxication to be repulsive or enjoyable, it is the body's profoundly negative reaction to alcohol in the system.

When alcohol is consumed regularly, in sufficient quantities, the body does its best to adapt.  This is called "habituation" or building up a tolerance to alcohol..  The body re-regulates itself to adjust to the presence of alcohol, with the net result that alcohol begins to lose its intoxicating properties.  For those who desire the effect of intoxication, they must drink more to achieve the same results.  And the body continues to adapt, and more is still needed.  An advanced alcoholic can consume an incredible amount of alcohol, and still function normally.  If you have to ride in a car with a driver that has been drinking, pick the alcoholic.  

The third phase of alcoholism is that it becomes necessary to maintain a level of alcohol in the system to feel "normal".  I used to joke that it took two Scotch doubles just to feel sober.  It was no joke.  It actually did.  At this point in an alcoholic's life intoxication is no longer the problem.  The problem is detoxification.  The body has so adjusted to a constant presence of alcohol in the system that it now reacts negatively to the lack of alcohol.  Case in point:  As my drinking reached significant levels, I began to worry about my congregation smelling liquor on me Sunday morning, and so I decided not to drink on Saturday nights.  The result, which I did not recognize, was that Sunday mornings I began to shake uncontrollably, enough that I could not pour the wine during communion distribution anymore.  I thought to myself that this had nothing to do with drinking, because I hadn't had anything to drink.  My body, however, was detoxing.  It was having an adverse reaction to the lack of alcohol.  At this point, the addiction to alcohol is at its strongest.  One MUST drink to avoid the negative effects of detoxification.  Its a simple matter of pain avoidance.

But there are limits.  An alcoholic desires to feel that pleasant buzz, but now doesn't.  And so they drink more.  The "buzz" is gone.  On my last night drinking, I consumed over a fifth of Scotch, plus took Ativan, to calm my nerves and hopefully, experience the 'positive' feeling of intoxication.  It eluded me.  I nearly drank myself to death in the attempt.  

I believe that this cycle of intoxication, habituation, and detoxification is a pattern that anyone will experience given the consumption of enough alcohol on a regular basis.  No one is immune.  Some  people may be more prone to alcoholism than others, for a variety of reasons.  But I believe that no one is immune.  No, not even one.  Be aware of that the next time you think to yourself that you can really 'handle your booze'.  That may be a sign that you've just advanced to the second stage of alcoholism, and what I can tell you from personal experience is that it does not get better from there.

Sifting through Advice

Having received the report of the psychologist that recently evaluated me, I find myself seeking discernment.  What do I make of it all, and how can I best utilize the advice offered there.  I've already shared that there are some things that came out of this process that I am, oh shall I say, humored by.  That my number one vocational choice, according to one test, is to be a librarian floored me.  Not on the radar screen.  Nope, no way, no how.  

There are other suggestions within the final report that seem good on the surface but which are easier said than done.  Re-evaluate the condition of my knees, considering a second opinion, to the end that I might pursue an intentional exercise program to reduce stress.  OK, so that sounds good enough, but a psychologist's opinion about the state of my knees pales in comparison to the agreement of two orthopedic surgeons, one of whom operated on me.  I have a degenerative condition.  The old knees are going to continue to get worse.  The menisci are wasting away.  Eventually it will be bone on bone.  In the mean time I've been told to hold off as long as possible, and then will come the process of injections, followed by knee replacement.  It makes extensive exercise a challenge.

Its not that I'm adverse to exercise as a means of dealing with stress, cardiovascular health, or even my depression and insomnia.  I used to walk hours at night to unwind.  Just ask the people in Baker and Thompson Falls, some of whom called the police to report the "prowler" walking the streets late at night.  I probably logged ten miles a night during those times, even in the dead of winter.  

The struggle now is that I have a choice.  If I exert myself with exercise, my knees are so sore that it is difficult to make it through the next day's work.  One activity pays the bills, the other doesn't.  You choose. . .

I will have to admit that I also take the importance of intentional exercise with a grain of salt.  You see, when I was working a desk job, the importance of physical exercise was pretty straight forward.  Today, I'm putting in 10 hour days doing physically demanding labor.  I may not be "exercising" but I'm quite physically active.  

The importance of reducing stress is not lost on me though.  Its just that there is more than one way to skin a cat.  Walking may help cope with it, but I've found getting at the root of it is even more important.

One development that I wouldn't have predicted is the effect of "diversifying my portfolio", to coin a phrase.  Necessity required that following my resignation from my last call, I find ways to survive financially.  For a while I had disability benefits, I was working at my own business, and thankfully, Karla had a good job.  When disability benefits stopped, I was able to find a job in a cabinet shop, which together with the business and Karla's work, met our needs.  And currently, I have also received an offer to re-enter ministry on a part time basis.

The net result is that our livelihood is no longer dependent on any one thing.  Our eggs are no longer all in one basket.  I am amazed at how much that has reduced the stress that I experience.  There will be something to fall back on if changes should occur.  

All this is to say, that some very good goals came out of the evaluation (being a librarian, excepted!!), but how I pursue those goals may be different than suggested.  But then, that's what discernment is all about.

Resilience

"Well, Dave, you certainly get the "land on your feet" award for the year!"

These were the words of my colleague back in '99 when having been just terminated from a call in SE Montana, I received a call to serve in Sandpoint, ID.  It could have been so much worse.  And over the next 13 years I was to experience what will likely be the highlight of my career in the ministry, though I hesitate to say that because who knows what is yet to come.

More recently, my bishop said "I continue to be amazed at your resilience."  I like that word, resilience.  Life presents no small amount of challenges.  In the midst of those challenges we are invited to live by faith, believing that God will deliver us.  We will not be spared difficult times-- into every life there will come challenges, many of which might defeat us, if we let them.  What God promises, though, is to deliver us, not spare us.  Resilience is a gift of the Spirit I believe.  And it is  rooted in the promises of God.

When the prophets speak about the remnant that shall return, they speak about the resilience of God's people.  That though the nation was destroyed, nevertheless, God will preserve a remnant, and from that remnant a renewed and restored nation will arise.  A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse.  Resilience.

I mentioned in my last post that the congregation where I've been serving as a supply pastor was voting on offering me the position of interim/transitional minister.  Yet to be determined is whether the position will be an interim, or transitional ministry, the difference being that a transitional pastor may in time be offered a regular call to serve the congregation.  But that's a question for tomorrow.  

What I am well aware of today is that it's been nearly four years since my health required that I leave the ministry, and now today, I have been asked once again to serve under call.  There have been times in the last four years that I thought this day would never come.  I imagined that my being bipolar would make it all but impossible to serve again.  But today, the people of Peace Lutheran will call me "Pastor Dave".  Bouncing back, resilience, a spiritual gift.

I have been amazed at how this has happened.  Sometimes, God's timing is impeccable.  When I was being terminated from my call in eastern Montana, back in 1999, there were two council meetings that were pivotal.  At the first, a report was received from the Synod that stated that I should not be terminated.  The next night, the council rejected that report, and voted to move forward with the termination process.  In between those two meetings, I received a phone call, out of the blue, from a woman in Sandpoint asking if she could nominate me to be their next pastor.  I subsequently received that call.  

Over the last few years, we have been deeply dependent on my wife's job, and those benefits.  Currently, there is a change of leadership at her place of employment, and with that changing of the guard there are new expectations and there is significant uncertainty how she will fit into the new leadership team.  The security blanket which has sustained us throughout these last four years is now in question.  The only thing that is certain is that things are changing.

What amazes me is that even before those matters are resolved plan "B" (or is it plan C, D, or E) is in place.  I have been asked to serve Peace Lutheran on a half time basis, and my employer at the cabinet shop has consented to the change of schedule necessary so that I might work there as well, with the net result that my income will now be sufficient to maintain our household.  Resilience.

Again, I am convinced that resilience is not a personal ability, but a gift of the Spirit.  It is by the grace of God that we are able to come out on the other side of life's challenges, living to see another day.  And as the old adage says, "if it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger."

Having said that, there is one thing I would like to say to God.  I think I'm strong enough, now.  Let's take a break from all the adversity for a while and settle into a stable new "normal".  It would be appreciated.

"And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us."

Resilience.

Sufficiency, Stability, and the Grace of God

There is a fear that has accompanied the experiences of the last few years.  We have experienced on challenge after another.  None of them have proven to be insurmountable.  We gotten through them.  For example, on numerous occasions I've been overwhelmed with the implications of my income taking one hit after another.  Financial ruin has seemed to loom on the horizon.  But those fears never materialized.  However, even as I have experienced this good fortune, I've continued to fear that sooner or later the other shoe will drop.

Yet, to date, our experience has been that with each challenge there have been the resources to deal with that.  Case in point, earlier this year I had to have a hernia repair.  Surgery is a major expense even with insurance.  And yet, we were able to pay cash for the deductible and co-pay.  And now, it seems as though the other shoe has dropped.  My wife requires surgery and it is scheduled for  tomorrow.  Yet once again, we have the resources to pay cash for the deductible and co-pay.  Two surgeries in one year.  Fears abound and yet are unfounded.

Sufficiency is what I'm learning.  I may not always have what I want, but what I have will be sufficient.  

And then, there is stability.  The meds seem to be working.  Life happens.  Sometimes shit happens.  But those things that at one point would have thrown me into mania or depression are not having that effect now.  One response to that is to wonder why I'm not more excited or depressed about life events.  For better or worse, what I've been accustomed to is fairly major responses to this experiences.  That's the nature of being bipolar.  Mood swings exceed the normal.  And yet, I'm getting used to a new normal.  And that takes some getting used to.  

Through it all, with every passing day, I am becoming more and more aware of the Grace of God.  Not only that, but learning anew the art of living one day at a time.  You see, by God's grace I have come to believe that I will have enough to meet the needs of today.  I may not have enough to 'guarantee' that tomorrow's needs will be met.  But for today, we're good.

My wife asked a couple days ago a question about this.  Namely, "Why us?"  There have been many people who have experienced financial hardships that have resulted in their losing their home.  Does it make sense to talk about the grace of God allowing us to keep ours, while others lose theirs?  Well, the truth is that losing our home may be another issue that we have to face sometime in the future.  I don't know.  There are no guarantees.

What I do believe is that if we are not able to keep this home, if we have to sell, we will still have enough.  I don't fear ending up living in the WalMart parking lot.  

And  yet there is another dimension.  That whether we have much, or little, what we have is and always will be, a gift from God.  And I guess that is what I've learned through all of this.

And one final word.  Today the congregation I serve will be voting to extend an offer to me to serve as their pastor.  What the future is in all this, I do not know.  But for today, it seems right.

And today is all we've got.

"Marian, Madam Librarian:"

Ah, the testing.  Insightful at times.  Questionable at times.  Humorous at times.

On Wednesday of this week I went and met with the psychologist that the synod had selected to review my readiness to resume pastoral ministry.  It was a marathon session, lasting from 11 in the morning to nearly 4 in the afternoon.  In addition to a lot of conversation with the psychologist and another mental health professional she had present, there was the MMPI to take.  The strongest result of the MMPI was that I was an introvert.  OK, I knew that.  Roughly 2/3 of all pastors are likewise introverts.  

What was most interesting was getting the results of the Strong Interest Inventory, a test aimed at getting at your ideal vocations.  At first glance the results seemed to be what I'd anticipate.  My five top interest areas were:

1. Religion and Spirituality
2. Counseling and Helping
3. Writing and Mass Communication
4. Performing Arts
5. Mechanics and Construction

Now, my immediate reaction was that for someone with  28 years of pastoral ministry experience, who is also an accomplished musician and furniture builder, these made a lot of sense.  Yep, that's who I am.

And then came the recommendation.  

The top ten occupations suggested were:

1. Librarian
2. Rehabilitation Counselor
3. Urban and Regional Planner
4. Architect
5. Editor
6. Training and Developmental Specialist
7. Musician
8. Human Resources Manager
9. Translator
10. Arts/Entertainment Manager

Librarian?  What?  Where did that come from?  Religious leader did show up on the list but it didn't make the top ten.  Librarian?

As I shared with the psychologist, there is nothing remotely interesting to me, at all, not the slightest bit, about being a librarian, at least as I understand that vocation, and I'll admit, that my understanding of it is limited.  Some of the suggested vocations make sense, though I'd question whether they were my top interests.  An editor, for example, would make sense if it involved writing editorials.  On the other hand, as someone who struggled more with foreign language classes than any other course work, translator seems a bit of a stretch.  Were I to change vocations, I could very much see myself as a chemical dependency counselor due to my background.  And at one point in my life, I was intent on becoming a professional tuba player, so that too makes sense.  

All that said, at the age of 59, all this talk of "preferred vocations", given my interests, is a bit of a moot point.  To retrain at this point (getting a degree in the library sciences, for example .  .  . ugh, the very thought makes me cringe,) would take a significant amount of time, money, and would not likely pay off in the long run.  I really would enjoy being an architect, true.  But I'm not about to go back to college, earn that degree, and then at the age of 63 or 64 try and break into a new career.  Not likely to become the next Frank Lloyd Wright.  

We did talk a lot about ministry.  I haven't seen her final report, yet, though I did press her for an initial reaction to our conversation.  Her primary concern that she shared was that I not relocate at this time.  It is essential that I be able to continue my relationship with my health care team as I'm still quite new at this business of living with a bipolar diagnosis.  That I would agree with 100%.  

Another reaction that came about in the conversation, was in response to my sharing that my wife has been concerned that reentry into ministry might trigger a relapse of the bipolar symptoms.  "What guarantees could you offer her?"  "In life, there are no guarantees." was my response.  I think that the best that I can offer, is that I now know how to respond should symptoms of mania or depression resurface.  That is helpful, regardless of what occupation I pursue.

A final thought:  The question came up about what precautions I might take to protect the congregation I serve from becoming a 'victim' of my manic impulses, should they arise.  My response-- I'll inform them that if I put any proposal on the council's agenda that involves spending more than a million dollars, they should check with the bishop first.  

Sound advice.