This blog is my blog, these stories are my stories. While memories that include my family will obviously be written on this page because, hello; I am who and what I am because of who and what I come from; these words are about my experiences. Just mine.
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| That look on my face...why, tho? |
That said, I
am the daughter and the daughter-in-law of ministers. My dad pastored
in many different churches and communities over his years of service:
he was a Southern Baptist preacher, a giant of a leader in an
international campus ministry, a pioneer of the Jesus People
movement, a well known House Church starter, and a convert to
Orthodox Christianity in which he was ordained and served as an
archpriest for almost 30 years by the time he passed away 3 1/2 years
ago. My father-in-law has a very similar story, except he wasn’t a
Baptist minister; he was first ordained in the Covenant church. He is
the only remaining grandparent to my children, and we are so glad he
is still with us.
I am sure that my parents and my husband’s parents did the very best they could, and I know they loved their families very much. I’m not telling their stories, I’m telling mine. In telling my stories, if I’m going to be honest, I have to write about them.
When I was three years old, my dad was in a terrible plane crash. I grew up hearing the story of how my mother begged him not to go on that particular trip, and in fact she was pleading and crying so hard about it, even hanging onto him physically and trying to stop him from walking out the door, that he reprimanded her and chastised her for being a hysterical woman. About an hour later, the private plane he was a passenger in crashed on takeoff, and my dad was severely injured, almost killed. I actually do remember my mother praying and pleading with God to protect him after he walked out the door. And He did. My dad should have died on impact. For the rest of his life when he retold this story, my dad would laugh and say that after that event, he never doubted “women’s intuition” again. (Not true, by the way. He continued to doubt.)
A number of years later when I was a teenager, my dad was working in the yard when he suddenly dropped his tools and jumped in the car and took off. I wasn’t home when this happened, but I later heard the story many times. He drove to the house of a woman we knew, and he found her in time to save her life. She had attempted suicide, but due to my dad’s timely intervention, she lived. He said later, when he frequently retold this story, that he felt a strong urging from the Holy Spirit to GO to this woman’s house NOW. Because he obeyed the voice of God, her life was spared.
Isn’t it interesting that when my mom had a premonition of danger, he called it “women’s intuition “, but when my dad had a similar premonition, he said it was the “Holy Spirit speaking” to him? Hmmm... That makes me wonder about intuition and the Holy Spirit, and about a woman’s experience that is discredited, and a man’s experience that is elevated. The words used to describe almost identical events changed the story about them. Because, after all, intuition is not holy, but listening to God’s voice is. Right?
Wrong.
I don’t like that distinction at all.
So let’s talk about intuition.
I remember attending teachings and meetings as a child and later as a young adult where I was actually taught by my father, and also by the man who later became my father-in-law, that I could not listen to nor trust the voice inside of me. I was told that Jiminy Cricket was a liar, and that if you let your conscience be your guide, it would lead you to unholy, ungodly, sinful and evil places.
Really?
The conscience, the inner voice, the intuition that God built into us is inherently evil?
I bought into this “truth” as a kid, and for way too many years after I grew up. I don’t buy into it any more. I know I was taught those things in good faith (at least I hope so), but I now see that narrative as being just another way of keeping me and my unruly spirit controlled. I actually spent way too many years believing that there were a few “godly men” who could hear God’s “true voice”. I couldn’t and didn’t trust myself.
That makes me sad now. And not just a little mad.
The truth is that I’ve got buckets of intuition and spiritual insight. I am filled to the brim with it! My bullshit meter is finely tuned. I can actually read the energy of and hear and feel the emotions of people around me. I “know” things that I “shouldn’t know”. During the many years that I worked in the world of modern medicine, I often knew immediately what a patient needed before a doctor even walked onto the floor. I just thought I was a really good educated guesser.
I told myself that I was a good guesser because to even begin to look at the possibility that I might just “know things” because my intuition (or the Holy Spirit?) was telling me these things meant I had to admit that my head and my heart were open to the spirit world, and that meant I was perilously close to falling into the occult...can you see how ridiculous this line of thinking is? Just writing it now embarrasses me a little. But I was so convinced that I couldn’t trust what was in me, because if I did I was “opening my heart to the devil”, that I grasped onto the “really good educated guesser” excuse like a lifeline.
Things are different now. I don’t believe any of that BS. But it took me more than 5 decades to come to realize that I am a talented and gifted child of God. My gifts are FROM God. My spirit is pure. And as long as I wrap myself in the arms and protective Light of Christ, I am in a good place. Always.
And there is great relief, and joy, to know this is the truth. The. Truth.
Opening myself up to my intuition and the gifts and talents that come with it has been life affirming. I’m so grateful for the healing of this part of my soul.
Some years ago I was introduced to a beautiful Orthodox prayer service known as the “Akathist of Thanksgiving”. It is so lovely, and it gives me so much comfort. Part of one of the verses in it goes like this:
“My God , Who knows the fall of the proud angel, save me through the power of Your grace, do not let me fall away from You, do not allow me to doubt You. Sharpen my hearing so that every minute of my life I can hear Your mysterious voice and call to You Who are everywhere present:
Glory to You for Providential coincidences,
Glory to You for the gift of premonitions,
Glory to You for the guidance of a secret inner voice,
Glory to You for revelations in dreams and when awake...”
I’m OK. I’m better than OK.
I am sure that my parents and my husband’s parents did the very best they could, and I know they loved their families very much. I’m not telling their stories, I’m telling mine. In telling my stories, if I’m going to be honest, I have to write about them.
When I was three years old, my dad was in a terrible plane crash. I grew up hearing the story of how my mother begged him not to go on that particular trip, and in fact she was pleading and crying so hard about it, even hanging onto him physically and trying to stop him from walking out the door, that he reprimanded her and chastised her for being a hysterical woman. About an hour later, the private plane he was a passenger in crashed on takeoff, and my dad was severely injured, almost killed. I actually do remember my mother praying and pleading with God to protect him after he walked out the door. And He did. My dad should have died on impact. For the rest of his life when he retold this story, my dad would laugh and say that after that event, he never doubted “women’s intuition” again. (Not true, by the way. He continued to doubt.)
A number of years later when I was a teenager, my dad was working in the yard when he suddenly dropped his tools and jumped in the car and took off. I wasn’t home when this happened, but I later heard the story many times. He drove to the house of a woman we knew, and he found her in time to save her life. She had attempted suicide, but due to my dad’s timely intervention, she lived. He said later, when he frequently retold this story, that he felt a strong urging from the Holy Spirit to GO to this woman’s house NOW. Because he obeyed the voice of God, her life was spared.
Isn’t it interesting that when my mom had a premonition of danger, he called it “women’s intuition “, but when my dad had a similar premonition, he said it was the “Holy Spirit speaking” to him? Hmmm... That makes me wonder about intuition and the Holy Spirit, and about a woman’s experience that is discredited, and a man’s experience that is elevated. The words used to describe almost identical events changed the story about them. Because, after all, intuition is not holy, but listening to God’s voice is. Right?
Wrong.
I don’t like that distinction at all.
So let’s talk about intuition.
I remember attending teachings and meetings as a child and later as a young adult where I was actually taught by my father, and also by the man who later became my father-in-law, that I could not listen to nor trust the voice inside of me. I was told that Jiminy Cricket was a liar, and that if you let your conscience be your guide, it would lead you to unholy, ungodly, sinful and evil places.
Really?
The conscience, the inner voice, the intuition that God built into us is inherently evil?
I bought into this “truth” as a kid, and for way too many years after I grew up. I don’t buy into it any more. I know I was taught those things in good faith (at least I hope so), but I now see that narrative as being just another way of keeping me and my unruly spirit controlled. I actually spent way too many years believing that there were a few “godly men” who could hear God’s “true voice”. I couldn’t and didn’t trust myself.
That makes me sad now. And not just a little mad.
The truth is that I’ve got buckets of intuition and spiritual insight. I am filled to the brim with it! My bullshit meter is finely tuned. I can actually read the energy of and hear and feel the emotions of people around me. I “know” things that I “shouldn’t know”. During the many years that I worked in the world of modern medicine, I often knew immediately what a patient needed before a doctor even walked onto the floor. I just thought I was a really good educated guesser.
I told myself that I was a good guesser because to even begin to look at the possibility that I might just “know things” because my intuition (or the Holy Spirit?) was telling me these things meant I had to admit that my head and my heart were open to the spirit world, and that meant I was perilously close to falling into the occult...can you see how ridiculous this line of thinking is? Just writing it now embarrasses me a little. But I was so convinced that I couldn’t trust what was in me, because if I did I was “opening my heart to the devil”, that I grasped onto the “really good educated guesser” excuse like a lifeline.
Things are different now. I don’t believe any of that BS. But it took me more than 5 decades to come to realize that I am a talented and gifted child of God. My gifts are FROM God. My spirit is pure. And as long as I wrap myself in the arms and protective Light of Christ, I am in a good place. Always.
And there is great relief, and joy, to know this is the truth. The. Truth.
Opening myself up to my intuition and the gifts and talents that come with it has been life affirming. I’m so grateful for the healing of this part of my soul.
Some years ago I was introduced to a beautiful Orthodox prayer service known as the “Akathist of Thanksgiving”. It is so lovely, and it gives me so much comfort. Part of one of the verses in it goes like this:
“My God , Who knows the fall of the proud angel, save me through the power of Your grace, do not let me fall away from You, do not allow me to doubt You. Sharpen my hearing so that every minute of my life I can hear Your mysterious voice and call to You Who are everywhere present:
Glory to You for Providential coincidences,
Glory to You for the gift of premonitions,
Glory to You for the guidance of a secret inner voice,
Glory to You for revelations in dreams and when awake...”
I’m OK. I’m better than OK.
I am
blessed.
Thank you so very much for writing these words! I have been through similar upbringing with similar protestant teachings about the Holy Spirit and I am very grateful to read your experience here. I am also grateful to be Orthodox Christian now and for the last 13 years with my family part of that gratitude also comes from your reference to the Akathist of Thanksgiving and inherent message of my unique self worth as child of God. God bless you!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! I really appreciate your feedback. So many things I’ve learned and experienced since becoming Orthodox have been so healing to me. I’m grateful.
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