Teapot's New In-Laws, Part One

 Some of my actual ancestors.

I almost went a month without posting, but I have much on my heart, and mind that I want to share. One of things I've realized lately comes with the desire to tell my story to anyone who will listen or read in the hopes that I can give them some encouragement and edification. God expects us to use our talents, and I stand rebuked for not having done that. I cannot change anything in the past, but I can certainly change my future with His help.

March 2018 goes down in family history as a great and wonderful mile marker. As promised to some of you, this is the story of how Ancestry.com and Facebook brought together siblings that had never before talked or met.

Little Mike

My husband, Mike, grew up with loving, adopted parents that welcomed him into their hearts on Christmas Eve 1960. He was only a few days old, and even though he grew up knowing he was adopted, his adopted parents were Mom and Dad. The few details he knew about his birth mother satisfied his curiosity until around the spring of 2012. At that point, I shared with him a few pictures of his birth mother, and three of his siblings along with letters that his birth mother sent to his adopted mom. The two mothers shared correspondence until Mike turned 18. After that all communication from the birth mother ceased. 

Meanwhile, I had been asking my father about family ties and names, and found that he did not know his grandparent's names. He was the youngest of eight children with a wide spread of years between the oldest sibling and himself. That spring of 2012, I joined Ancestry.com and began to build our family tree. After asking permission, I also started a tree for Mike with the bit of information his mom had left with me. I had the birth date and name of his birth mother, and a rough idea of where she had lived.

Thanksgiving that year brought a huge and wonderful surprise. I received a message from a lady saying that the name I had for Mike's mother was the same as her mother's name. I wrote back telling her that I might have an unexpected surprise for her. I scanned and sent her one of the pictures of Mike's birth mom and siblings. Her reply was an thrilling "That's me, and my brother and my sister, and my MOM! I've found Mama's lost son! Finally!" They had been searching for Mike, and neither he nor I had a clue. 

We connected on Facebook and chatted back and forth through FB messenger, and became a little acquainted. But matters like this can be awkward, and both sides approached each other slowly. But this past March, things leapt forward in the best of ways. I'll share the rest of this saga in my next post.                                       

Serve God and love others,

Teapotjan

Southern Teapot- Recent FB post

As most of you know, I am deeply proud of my Southern heritage. The words "y'all" and "yonder" are as sweet to my ears as the tea I drink is to my tongue. I fiercely support my local BBQ place as the best. And I can cook a pot of grits, buttermilk biscuits, and a pan of cornbread with my eyes closed.

My family on both sides has been here since the late 1600's. And many of them fought in the Revolutionary War, and then their prodigy fought for the Confederacy. A few of them owned slaves. Others fought in the war to preserve their way of life, and maintain state's rights. But most were the product of their time, I'm sure, and they viewed black slavery as a good use for an "lesser, and ignorant race of human."

The South was, and is still strong. We will not lose that strength by "giving in to the liberals" that want the Confederate flag removed from the state house grounds. We will gain strength by uniting with those that are not just offended, but hurt by the sight of it. Their family stories still echo with the sounds of a whip, and the cry of their great grandparents. Their picture albums contain scenes of a relative hanging by the neck from a tree. How many of us white Southern folks have the emotions those memories evoke each time we see the Rebel flag?

No, we can't give in to everyone's offenses. We will cave as a society. Maybe that is coming. Maybe this is a precedent. But, I'm not will to support anything that hurts my fellow Americans as much as the Confederate Flag's presence on SC State House grounds hurts so many. It's time to take it down, and put it in a museum as a dark reminder of a dark practice. 

The South is strong, but we used our strength to hurt. We shouldn't forget that, so do not banish that flag to obscurity. Put it on display in museums. Teach our children about it and speak of it as symbol of what misplaced loyalties and misused strength can do. Show all of our children, black and white and all other shades, that respect of all human life is part of God's commandment: Love one another.

 Love y'all! Teapot

Treasured Teapots and Filthy Rags

Looking back on some of the attitudes and teaching from my fundamental past, one in particular keeps popping up in my thoughts lately. I sat through many sermons about the sinful nature of the human race and a Christian's own futile attempt to be anything but a filthy rag. I and the others in the congregation were call "vile," "wretched," "putrid," and "useless."  This often threw me into a fit of guilt and hopelessness, especially when I battled depression. Isaiah 64:6 was the usual text for this teaching: 

But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousness is as filthy rags;and we do all fade as a leaf; and our iniquities, like the wind, have taken us away.

Please don't mistake what I am saying as heresy. Every human carries the burden of sin. All of us. Every. Single. One. From Adam to the newest child born seconds ago, not one of us can meet the requirements of perfection demanded by a Holy and Righteous Creator. We must look to Christ and His sacrifice to cover our sins and pay that debt. If you are reading this and don't understand what I'm saying, contact me and I'll be more than happy to explain.

But the consideration of that sacrifice started me thinking. Why would an omnipotent God make such a tremendous sacrifice for a bunch of throw away filthy, putrid, wretched, vile, useless beings? Then, I thought about the loveliness of my own children and how (on most days) it was hard to see them as "wretched.
I would do anything for these fellow sinners, and I am a mortal, imperfect human with a limited ability to love. How much more can God feel and do?
As I have often done in this journey, I turned to Scripture, and studied for myself, no longer dependent on man's interpretation, and I realized that the filthy rags mentioned in Isaiah do not refer to me, but to my feeble attempts to live up to His standards. If we attempt to do so, we fail miserably, and those attempts dry up and blow away like the leaves mentioned in Isaiah.

And another question popped up. If God sees our works as filthy rags, why do we even bother doing them? Back to Scripture:

Psalm 149:4

For the Lord takes pleasure in His people; he adorns the humble with salvation.

Also, as Genesis gives the account of Creation, we find that we were made in His image, and that He called His creation "good." The advent of sin did not diminish His pleasure in his creation. We are His jewels, His treasure, His delight, and He actively pursues ALL of us to join in fellowship with Him. It occurred me to at this point, that ALL of us must actively choose to either accept or to not accept His plan for eternal fellowship. And when we do accept this gift, and give Him praise, He receives pleasure and honor and love. He delights in our worship and works in His name.

Treasured, and protected by God. Loved in spite of failings. Sought after by the Most High. I will praise Him and He will be delighted!

Teapotjan

Serve God, Love others.

Teapot's Resolution

The Place I Should Stand

Janet Lindsey O'Brien

Grasping an arm. 

Clutching a hand. 

But still being pulled from the place I should stand. 

Being pushed by the longings that tear at my heart,

and the knowledge that leaving could be a new start. 

I want that life. 

I want to be me. 

No voice to say "wait."

I want to be free. 

To live in the now, and learn from before, and look to tomorrow with promise of more. 

But…

The arm leads to shoulder, 

The hand wears a band. 

The voice calls "I love you" from the place I should stand. 

Promises made. Promises kept. 

The shoulder is wet, 

with the tears I have wept. 

I'll stay in the place I promised to be. 

But that pulling and pushing shook something big free. 

I'll stay in this place, but I can't be the same. 

There'll be no more waiting. 

I won't play that game. 

I want the support of that arm, hand and voice. 

But if it's not there, I chosen my choice. 

I'll act on my own while I stand in my place, 

And I'll fight to be me and set my own pace. 

Squeezing an arm. 

Holding a hand. 

Still staying put in the place I should stand. 

I can be me, and he can be he. 

And my pushing and pulling brings that new start to me!

With love,

Teapotjan

Hippy Teapots

I remember the shock wave that went through my small childhood church when they first walked in to the auditorium. If my mother had not made me turn around for the sake of politeness I would have stared at them as any fundamentalist nine year old child would at this embodiment of sin. The church members initial reactions ranged from looks of disgust to an actual withdrawing to other, safer pews. I snuck glances at them whenever mom wasn't looking at me. Sinners had entered the church! It was a young couple holding their beautiful little blonde-haired girl. He had hair down to his waist, and she had a dress halfway up her legs. I could only think "hippies!" It was 1970 after all.

The young couple came to church because they were scared and needed help. Their daughter showed adverse signs from their use of drugs and they wanted to change whatever they could to help her. Many of the church members truly would have nothing to do with them. Nothing. They raced by them avoiding all eye contact as if a glance would send them into drug-induced hallucinations. Thinking back, I am amazed that this couple didn't turn away from church and God completely. But the concern for how their lifestyle could hurt their child had drawn them in and their love for her kept them there long enough to meet one of the few people in that church that knew how to act. It was my mom. 

She and my dad invited them to dinner, cooed and cuddled their little girl, and led them to Jesus. For several years, that couple and their children were frequent guests in our home. They grew in the Lord, completely left behind all use of drugs, and raised lovely, healthy children. I haven't heard from them in decades, but I'm sure I'll get to see them again in Heaven.

It may seem that this kind of thing wouldn't happen today, but it does. I've seen it. Big "F" fundamental folk still seem to expect the unsaved to act. . . well . . . . saved. Any difference in dress, appearance, and action warrants a withdrawal. A guy with hair over his ears, a girl with a pierced cartilage, clothing too casual, too denim, too short, too long are all deemed worldly. And the very people that should be reaching out, self-proclaimed Christians, instead pull back, hush their children and warn them to stay far away. Then place their children in Christian schools, Christian sports leagues, Christian clubs, and then wonder why they can't handle the real world when they get there.

Now, I don't think that there is anything wrong with any of the Christian things mentioned above. I'll get into some of that in another post. But I do take issue of the complete separation of Christians from everything and everyone in the world. It leads to the same wide-eyed shock I felt when that young couple walked into my church seeking help. I can't help but think that the drop in church attendance and the influence of God's people came from this "not of of any part of this world no way no how" mentality. 

Again, in the interest of keeping these entries short, I'll stop for now and write more tomorrow. Meanwhile, let's examine our reactions to those who are not like us in spiritual matters and compare them to Christ's reactions during His time on earth. And pray that God gives us the ability to reach out to Hippy Teapots.

The Broken Teapot, part one.

It is time. Time to talk about a very hard subject. Time to call out those who perpetuate the problem and then discuss it in whispered tones behind closed doors. It is time to lift up the broken, and punish those who broke them. It is time to bring abuse in the fundamentalist camp into the light of reality and deal with it in a Godly manner. Ignoring abuse will not make it go away, it will only make it worse. It is time. Now.

I have never been the victim of abuse. But, there are too many who cannot say the same. I have met some of them. They are often so broken that they can no longer function as a normal person. Their every thought and reaction is tainted with painful memories of abuse and neglect at the hands of the ones that should have protected them. Trust is a by-word, and guilt reigns their emotions.

As many of you know, abuse of any kind is about power. It is a selfish desire to lord over another being. The abused becomes less than a human and more of an object to be used. The point soon comes where the abused begins to believe   that they themselves are worthless, and they see no way out of the situation. This is the exact opposite of how Christ views them, and the exact opposite of how we should view them and treat them.

If a victim of abuse reaches out for help, it does not matter what we think about the truthfulness of the claim at that point. We have a person who has asked for help. Our initial response must be one of love, not accusation. Good, godly counseling will bring out the truth and the Holy Spirit will lead on how to deal with it. If approached by an abuse victim, procede prayerfully with love and kindness as Christ does when we come to Him. This stage is not one for any kind of judgement concerning the abused or the abuser.

The alarming trend in fundamental circles for the past several decades has been to sweep the entire issue of abuse in the church under the rug. I am not ashamed to say that those who claim that bringing it out in the open for full disclosure must not serve the same powerful God that I do. They do not need to "protect the cause of Christ" by hiding abuse and sin. Christ's cause is eternal and I think He can protect it all on His own. Sheltering the abuser, and blaming the abused protects nothing righteous. Call out the abuser, find out the facts, and let God take care of the rest!

In the interest of keeping each day's entry short, I'll continue on with this subject for most of this week. There is a lot to say, and my heart is burdened. I will leave you with a link to a letter written by my friend, Rebecca Davis: An Open Letter to Dr. Bob Wood, and another to a confidential survey from GRACE, i.e. Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment for those who have suffered abused. 

The teapot may be broken, but I know of a Great God who can make the very worst whole.

Tears in the Tea

Tears. I confess I'm a cryer. That fact intensified when I hit the wonder of the CHANGE OF LIFE. I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm angry, I cry when I'm proud, overwhelmed, sad, terrified and almost any other strong emotion a human can experience. I also cry when I am . . . depressed.

The "D" word. The boogeyman term that haunts christian counselors, and secular psychiatrists through their entire career. It turns good Christians into unsuitable servants, and shuts down amazing people just by showing its boogeyman face. It is blamed for suicide, pain, illness, apathy, weight gain, and the fall of mankind as we know it. Okay, that last one is a bit much, but if you've ever been depressed you know that's kind of how it can feel.

Back in my guilt-ridden days, I believed that any time depression came my way, that I was sinning and not trusting in the Lord as I should. I would cry and repent, and pray for help, and still feel depressed. This concept still reigns in many christian counseling and psychiatry classes. Those who hold that depression is merely a spiritual problem, mostly men, can go so far as to put PMS and post-partum blues in this same category. I cried ANGRY tears at that one. 

I wrote earlier that highly intelligent and creative people often suffer from depression more than other groups. It seems to go with the territory, though it's not exclusive. Depression can affect anyone. It can be crippling, especially when leaders like pastors, counselors, and teachers say it is a spiritual problem. That's just . . . well. . . depressing.

So my answer to all of this? Being depressed it not sinful. It is more often than not the result of an actual physical problem. Low levels of certain chemicals, genetics, stress, and several other medical issues can bring it on. Can it lead to sin and defeat? Why, of course it can. It can even kill us. 

Look at it this way. No normal person wants to be sick. if a person has a cold, they can self-medicate, rest and get over it. If they have a severe illness, like cancer, it needs to be treated by a medical professional.  The sick person leans on others for support. They go through therapy, if needed, and work at getting better. If they don't, they will die. It really doesn't help if the only thing the doctor says at the start is "You have cancer. You are going to be very sick."

Same with depression. No normal person wants to be sad but everyone gets the blues.There are those times when we are weepy, and sad for a short time and then it's over. But sometimes the blues get very dark very quickly and soon envelope those of us prone to depression in a dark, bleak cloud. As Christians, we must learn to recognize what is happening, reach out for help and work to get out of this cloud. If we don't, the depression will grow and we may not survive. Bless me, I don't think telling the person in the middle of a very dark cloud that it's all their fault and they should get out of it is really going to help. Do you?

Don't feel guilty about depression any more than you would feel guilty about getting cancer. Recognize it for what it is and find ways to treat it. I like the commercial that portrays depression as a dark blob that follows a person around. It's always there, but with work, prayer and treatment it can be controlled and made much less of a problem.

Here is a link to another blogger's solution to her battle with depression: My 21 Tips on Keeping It Together During Depression. The viewpoint is secular, but many of the principles are the same. Her original version was much-um-saltier. But at my request, she did what she called an "un-sweary" version. 
Thanks to Rosalind Robertson @www.diycouturier.com I really appreciate your gracious help.

This will not be my only post on depression, I'm sure. It's a battle I fight almost every day. And it is a huge subject worth revisiting. But now, living in grace, I know that I have a Creator who made me as I am. Funny, creative, intelligent, stubborn, and friendly, and prone to depression. He loves me. He understands how sad I am more than any human could. He loves ME. Since I am washed in His blood, He no longer judges me even while He longs for me to do right and serve Him. And He loves me. 

Don't let anyone condemn you for being depressed. If they aren't willing to lovingly help you, and they don't see depression for what it is, then get away from them, and find a loving Christian friend, pastor, counselor, friend who will guide you and show you how the light of Christ shines through the darkness of depression.

Seriously, if you already depressed how in the world is being told you're in sin going to help? Tears of laughter for that one. 

Questions? Comments? Please let me know.