The bear and the monkey.

Posted on November 19, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

There is a part of the Hindu epic Ramayana that I like very much. Rama, the blue-skinned human incarnation of the god Vishnu is searching for Sita, his wife. She has been kidnapped by the demon Ravana. On his quest he comes across a white monkey named Hanuman and a black bear named Jambavan.

The two animals join in the quest and they enlist the aid of the entire monkey and bear clans. After a month of searching they still haven’t found Ravana’s lair or Sita, and they are at the end of the Indian continent.

Jambavan knows a secret about Hanuman that he himself does not know. Hanuman is the son of the wind god and has immense powers. This information was hidden from him to keep him from annoying the meditating sages. Jambavan breaks his promise to the gods and Hanuman wakes up to his true self, grows immense and is able to see the island where Ravana’s fortress is, thus leading the group of searchers in Sita’s rescue.

How many years did Hanuman go before he was told of his birthright and his power?

How many of us are similarly asleep?

I am that bear.

I am here to tell you a secret.

You are more powerful than you know.
You have within you the light of God.
You are made from stardust.
You were put here because you are needed and necessary.

You are beautiful.
You are powerful.
You are eternal.

Act accordingly.
Use your powers for good.

(If you are interested in an especially readable and enjoyable version of this tale, please go to your library and get “Ramayana: Divine Loophole” by Sanjay Patel. It is illustrated in “Samurai Jack” style.)

Bonsai Betsy

Posted on September 23, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I found out today that I have scoliosis. This is why the disc in my back slipped out of place last week. The bend in my back isn’t so bad that I’d noticed anything wrong before now. Now that I know, I can see the signs. The wear pattern on my shoes is a pretty good clue.

My chiropractor says I need three adjustments every week for about a month, then it will taper off and I won’t have to go as often. Even with insurance this will cost me $45 a visit. This is a lot of money, especially after all the other expenses I’ve had recently.

I’m not happy about having to spend more money right now. We’ve got money in savings but I like having more of a cushion for emergencies. I’ve got plenty of sick time and there are extra people in my department right now so I can take time for appointments. It is doable, but I’m not happy about it.

But I need my back. If my car didn’t work I could figure something out. I could get a ride to work, or I could borrow my husband’s car and he could take the bus to work. There are ways. But there is no getting around needing a spine that works correctly.

It isn’t like having crooked teeth and getting braces. Well, kind of it is. That too takes a long time and isn’t cheap, and it hurts. I had braces. I remember. But surgery isn’t recommended for what I have now, just adjustments. That alone is something to be thankful for.

Essentially the doctor is doing body-shop work on me. Essentially my body was in a very slow collision with life and gravity and possibly genetics. I need a front-end alignment on my back end. I’m a bonsai tree that hasn’t been tended properly.

I never knew I could amuse myself so much talking about my deformity.

I have a feeling that there is a punch line coming up. I have a feeling that there is a plan for all of this. I trust God. I know that everything has a reason, and everything happens because it is part of God’s plan.

I also know that sometimes we don’t get to see that reason, and sometimes we are the collateral damage.

People like resolutions. We like to know what the ending is. We like to know that the guy gets the girl and they both ride off into the sunset together. But God doesn’t work that way. God works in God’s time and in God’s ways and there is just no getting around that.

God isn’t in the storm. God is the still, small voice.

God never said this journey of life would be easy, but instead promised to always be with us.

This is really important to remember. Trusting God, loving God, serving God isn’t about everything being awesome all the time. In fact it can be pretty awful. But part of it means trusting that God is in charge, and God has a plan, and that everything will work out the way it needs to work out.

We often can’t see around the corner. We often live with uncertainty. We often don’t know what to do. So we pray, and God tells us, one instruction at a time.

Stay here. Move forward one step. Go this way. Stop. Wait. Move back one. Wait.

When Abraham started listening to that still, small voice, he did that in faith. When Noah built that ark and gathered up all the animals, he did that in faith. When Peter walked out on that water towards Jesus, he did that in faith.

This is what we do, when we walk with God. It isn’t easy. It is pretty scary sometimes. It is like walking on a tightrope, with our eyes closed, with no net.

Snake handling 2 (how memorizing some Irish saved the day)

Posted on June 22, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

About twenty years ago I was walking at night in downtown Chattanooga with a friend named John and came to a restaurant/bar called the Pickle Barrel. This was a common place among my friends to hang out. It was/is a ramshackle building set in a triangle bit of property at an odd intersection. They serve sandwiches that go well with beer, which is their main trade.

We saw another friend, named Malcolm there, who was with a stranger. I don’t remember much about how the stranger looked. I think he was skinny and had stringy hair. I think he was wearing the standard college student uniform of a worn t-shirt and Goodwill-bought pants. I probably wouldn’t even have looked at him twice if he wasn’t sitting with a friend of mine.

The stranger was sitting across from me at the round wooden table and we started talking. I got a sense from him that he wasn’t exactly what he appeared to be. I can’t explain how I came to this conclusion. Suffice it to say my “spidey sense” was tingling. He then started talking about magic. I don’t know what got in to me, but I “pushed” a little and said “Don’t talk about magic unless you talk about real, true magic.”

I’ll back up a little, here. We have in my family something I call “the push.” It isn’t something we talk about. If you have it, you know, and if you don’t, you’ll never know. The only time it is mentioned is if you figure out you have it and you start asking around. It makes it very confusing, because you feel like you are alone and strange. I’ve discovered other people who have it who aren’t in my family. People who have it generate a sort of magnetism. The idea of The Force also resonates with this concept.

I call it “the push” because that is what it feels like. It has the same feeling that a physical push has, but no muscles are used. It is mental/spiritual. Just like the Force, it can be used for good or bad. I use it when assisting others when there are language or processing problems. It can be a way to bridge communication gaps. It is helpful when communicating with people who are mentally disabled, or very young. However, I’ve seen one family member use it to get people to do what he wants them to do, rather than what is best for them. I’ve seen people use it to play people like puppets. I’ve seen people think that they are special, and the power goes to their heads.

So, back to the story. The stranger took my hands and started chanting something, in some language I don’t know. This may sound strange but it felt as if time slowed down and everything centered around us. It appeared that the lights and colors got much brighter and more intense. No – I wasn’t high or drunk. I asked Malcolm and John later if they saw him take my hands and start chanting and they both said no. Nothing different happened for them.

Everything different happened for me. I felt trapped. I felt that this guy meant nothing but harm for me. I felt the same kind of terror I would suspect I’d feel if a person had a gun up against my head and I was forced up against a wall. I was alone. I didn’t know what to do.

Fortunately I have a habit of memorizing things. I’d memorized the bit of Irish from Sinead O’Connor’s first album, from the song “Never Get Old”. Enya speaks it. It starts with the sounds “oh rourk she or du dein, gol et toe hue.” This is as close as I can approximate it. It takes about a minute to say. It sounds pretty cool. I’d memorized it pretty well, and can still recite it today.

He dropped my hands, stopped chanting, and cowered.

Everything went back to normal, of a sort. Time resumed its normal pace, and the lights and colors stopped being so intense. Our friends rejoined the conversation, and I looked at the guy warily. Not long later I got up to go to the bathroom and he followed me. He crouched down and held out his hand in supplication, and asked me to teach him what I knew.

I refused to touch his hand, partly in fear for what that contact would do this time.

I replied that how dare he attack me. I had not done anything to him. I had not provoked an attack. I had not deserved such behavior.

I replied that I am a servant of God, and that any of my power comes from serving God. I assured him that God is more powerful than anything he could dream up. I advised he follow God, and know that true power comes from being in His service.

Later I reflected on the words I’d used. I realized that the words were from Psalm 91, lines 11-13. I’ve Included 9-10 for background.

9 Because you have made the LORD your refuge,
the Most High your dwelling place,
10 no evil shall befall you,
no scourge come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
12 On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread on the lion and the adder,
the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.

I’ve since found a version of it in Irish. It looks like this –

11 Óir thug sé ordú da aingil i do thaobh
tú a chosaint i do shlite go léir:
12 Iompróidh siad thú lena lámha
sula mbuailfí do chos in aghaidh chloiche.
13 Satlóidh tú ar an leon is ar an nathair:
gheobhaidh tú de chosa sa leon óg is a dragan.*

This was the most appropriate thing I could have said at the moment. I give thanks to God that He gave me the mind and the will to memorize something so useful, and the ability to recall it at the right time.

We may not be able to see the angels God sends us, but they are still there.
It is also helpful to know that sometimes we are the angels. God works through us to help others.
Our calling is to align ourselves with God, and let the healing of the world happen through us. We are the bridge for God’s love.

We are told that we are the ones we have been waiting for. We are told that we are Christ’s hands and feet in this world.

Perhaps I read fantasy and science fiction because I want to find similar stories to explain these kinds of experiences I’ve had. Perhaps I’m sharing these stories to tell you that you aren’t alone. This sounds like a crazy story, but it is true. May it be of help to you.

Snake handling 1 (walks with God)

Posted on June 13, 2013 by betsybeadhead | Leave a comment

I’m going to start sharing stories of when God has called me with the hope that these stories resonate with you. I want to inspire you to be able to answer the call. It is hard to hear, and hard to understand. Perhaps we can muddle through together.

I consider this like “Post Secret” but for hearing from God. Or maybe it is like AA. I’m admitting that God talks to me. I think God talks to everybody, but they just don’t have their radio receivers tuned clearly. Maybe if I share some of what I’ve experienced you’ll realize that you have been through similar experiences. The purpose of AA is to let others know that they aren’t alone, and to give them strength on their journey. I have the same goal.

So I’ll start with this story, and add more later.

Many years ago I was walking with friends in downtown Chattanooga. It was late, probably 10 pm. We were walking to our favorite hangout, The Pickle Barrel. It was mid-November, and chilly enough for a jacket, but otherwise pleasant. This was not uncommon to walk at night in downtown Chattanooga. It was a safe town.

I caught a glimpse of a guy sitting by himself in Miller Plaza. This is an open area where bands sometimes play on the weekends. He was sitting by a fountain that had been turned off because it was winter. Something about him caught me. I felt instantly that he needed help of some sort. I told my friends that I’d catch up with them in a little bit.

It was as if there was a hand on my head and it turned me in that direction. The entire time I was walking across the street I was arguing with God. What are you doing!? I don’t know this person. It is late at night. I am a small white woman!?

Chattanooga in general was safe to walk at night, but I’d been cautioned about strangers my whole life. My parents meant well with their concerns and fears, but they themselves were ruled by their fears. Fear is what killed them, ultimately. I wasn’t rebelling against them by doing this, but I knew that I had to do something. I had to get over my trained fear and listen to that voice that compelled me onward.

As I got closer to him, and saw that he was probably 6 feet tall, maybe 140 pounds. He was pale, and had dark hair. He also had a silver ring on his wedding finger that could have been a wedding ring.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have a script or training for this. I was terrified. But I felt like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I was there already. I was looking at him, and he was looking at me.

I asked him if he was OK. He said he was. I knew he wasn’t. I kept talking with him. I wasn’t prying, and I certainly didn’t tell him that God sent me over because something was wrong. I just made light conversation.

We exchanged phone numbers and parted for the evening. It was months later that he told me that he was going to kill himself that night.

It was because I came up to him and distracted him that he didn’t.

This story has stayed with me for over half my life.

I still feel that pull to go up to strangers and ask them if they are OK. I still don’t know what to say or do. I don’t always go up to them. I wait to see if the pull is really there or if I’m just imagining it.

I don’t want to seem crazy.

It isn’t normal in our society to go up to strangers and talk to them. We are told not to. We are cautioned daily about how dangerous it is.

And then I remember this story. Normally we are told we might die if we go talk to strangers. Yet in this story, the stranger would have died if I hadn’t gone up to him.

It was a weird feeling, this pull. It was as if I had no say in the matter. I was as if I was a puppet. It was kind of unpleasant. It certainly was going counter to anything I’d been told by my parents or priests.

Yet it is everything.

We are told that if we are acting in accordance in the will of God, we are safe.

This is what snake handlers do. You know, the ones you’ve heard about in rural parts of the South or in the mountains of North Carolina. The ones who use snakes as part of their worship service.

They take their lead from the words of Jesus in Mark 16:17-18 “17 And these signs will accompany those who believe: In My name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new languages; 18 they will pick up snakes; if they should drink anything deadly, it will never harm them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will get well.” And also these words from Jesus in Luke 10:19 “19 Look, I have given you the authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and over all the power of the enemy; nothing will ever harm you.”

I want to take that bravery out into the streets, into the market place. I want to take that and make it useful.

Snake handling done for the sake of snake handling is pointless.

But I also say communion for the sake of communion is pointless.

They both might make you feel closer to God. They both might make you feel connected, and may remind you of your covenant with God.

But they don’t mean anything if you can’t or won’t take that energy outside.

I don’t do this a lot. I saw a guy yesterday at my doctor’s office that I felt a small pull toward. I thought – what should I do? I walked out of the foyer, and I stopped for a moment, standing a few feet from the doors. I waited for the pull again. I waited for the hand on my head, directing me back.

It didn’t come. I don’t know if I missed it, or if it wasn’t something that I HAD to do.

I don’t know. I’ve not found books on this. I’ve not found a teacher.

Perhaps the experience itself is the teacher. Perhaps I need to just let God guide me through this. Sometimes this walk of faith feels like walking in darkness, with tiny pools of light to guide me. When I’m brave enough to step forward into the pool of light, another lights up before me. I don’t know where I’m headed, but I trust who is leading me.

I test everything. Does it feel crazy? That isn’t enough. Look at Moses – he talked to a burning bush. Look at Mary – she talked to angels who told her she was going to bring forth the Messiah.

Am I being asked to do something dangerous? That isn’t enough. Look at Peter – he walked on water. Look at Abraham – he was asked to sacrifice his son.

It is totally crazy to follow God. No wonder non-Christians feel like we are zombies. We pray about everything, asking God for guidance. We don’t rely on our own knowledge, because we realize that it isn’t enough. We are trying to tap into a bigger source. We aren’t lessening ourselves, we are plugging into Source. We are trying to upgrade from a 110 to a 220. We are trying to upgrade from a water hose to a garden hose. But it is hard, and confusing, and weird because there aren’t that many guides on this.

Here’s a test – is it for me? Or is it for others? Who will benefit from this action? If it is selfish, then run away. If it is self-less, then run towards it. If you are serving others, you are safe. Now, this doesn’t mean that nothing “bad” will happen – but it means that if it does, then it is also part of God’s will.

Confusing? Sure. But the Bible is full of stories that are confusing and yet many of us use them as the basis for our faith. I’m just bold enough to think there is some truth in these stories, and that it applies to us, right here and right now.