I know many of you have been concerned about Ann’s ommarichophobia – Fear of Eye brows about which I posted earlier. Read it HERE.
I am pleased to inform you that after many days of increasingly intense exposure therapy she is now cured. Thank you for your concern and prayers on her behalf.
As indicated by the title, this post is the second of two. If you have not read them first, you should do so. Click HERE to read.
In my previous post my salvation journey was described as amovement from “YES,but” to “YES”. In this post, I hope to flesh out the space between “YES,but” and “YES”.
Before addressing the space between, let me say that both “YES” are the same but very different. Each is a declaration that I am saved by the grace of God through Jesus the Christ. Perhaps that paradox is analogous to my marriage. At the conclusion of our vows 57 years ago; I could answer, Are you married? YES. Asked the that question today, my answer would be the same YES. I think you can understand how different the two “YES” are.
To fill the space between “YES,but” and “YES” I think it’s helpful to use the metaphor of “middle tint” I introduced in an earlier post. The source document is available HERE.
The landscape between “YES,but” and “YES” requires middle tint to assure an observer’s eyes are drawn to most important subject of the painting, salvation through Jesus Christ. Without middle tint any painting will be dull and flat, and lose it’s potential for dramatic impact.
The work of painting the expanse between my baptism and today has not been my mine but the hand of God working in my life. A work not yet complete. 
LoadIng her brush with color from the palette of God’s word, the Holy Spirit began to slowly but surely, build the middle tint of my landscape. With each stroke, salvation came into sharper relief, creating a more beautiful and profound image. First came the startling hues of grace, followed by the deep shades of incarnation, simultaneously blended with the tertiary color of Jesus’ life and teaching. Inevitably came the sharp hues of sanctification, soften by the reassuring tint of the Kingdom of God.
For me, the depths of salvation have not been plumbed but the transactional nature of salvation at my baptism has been transformed by God’s work as we have walked together these 50+ years. The following thoughts of Jason Zahariades express well the result of my transformation.
Salvation is the process of restoration to what humans were created to be. Rather than sin being the breaking of God’s Law, the root of sin is the movement from being to non-being. Sin is the distortion of our humanity, of who we are supposed to be as God’s image on earth. Rather than being truly human, sin makes us subhuman. So the problem of sin is much deadlier and sinister than mere guilt or disobedience. It is the warping, distortion and brokenness of who we are as human beings. It is the full corruption of my mind, heart, body, soul and relationships. In this light, I don’t just need to be forgiven. I need to be healed. I don’t just need assurance of admittance into heaven in the future. I need assurance that who I am in the present is being transformed out of my desperate and destructive subhuman existence and into the image and likeness of God as I was divinely intended to live.
So salvation isn’t primarily about guilt and forgiveness. It’s about brokenness and healing. It’s about delusion and illumination. It’s about distortion and transformation. It’s about death and life in the here and now. As a follower of Jesus, I truly cannot say, “I am saved.” I can only say, “I am being saved.”
The truth is that every theological system that allots to man some responsibility in the saving of his own soul inevitably ends up by making man his own savior.(Unknown)
Reviewing intersections in my life I have written about, I realized salvation was missing. Perhaps it should have been one of the first and I’m not quite sure why it wasn’t. Hopefully this writing will provide an answer.
If you stop to think about it, salvation is a big deal. It’s not unusual for someone to celebrate their heavenly birthday, marking the occasion of their salvation. “Have you been saved?” “Are you saved?” are go to conversation starters for evangelists. Pretty much everyone would say they want to be saved. In our western Christian context, generally, that would mean being saved from eternal punishment in hell.
That’s where my salvation story begins. I do not remember the exact date, but I was twelve years old and my family was living in Paducah, Kentucky. It was a Sunday morning worship service at the Broadway Church of Christ. The preacher was Brother H. A. Dixon. For reasons you might imagine for a twelve year old boy, I had been thinking a lot about my sinfulness and the prospects of hell should I die. As usual, the sermon concluded with an invitation to come forward and be baptized by immersion for the forgiveness of your sins and salvation from eternal punishment in hell and eternal life in heaven with God and Jesus. It was an uncomplicated and elegant solution to my angst. As the invitation song, probably “Just as I Am”, was being sung a cappella by the congregation, I made my way from the balcony to the front of the auditorium. I was greeted by Bro. Dixon and, to my great surprise, my mother joined me to be baptized (that’s another story for another time). I was properly baptized “I now baptize you In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of your sins” and completely immersed. I recall the elation and relief I felt being saved. At least I thought I was.
Salvation, as I soon came to understand and, for most of my life believed, was “YES, BUT “. I could confidently say “Yes, I am saved” because I was baptized. However,that confidence was quickly mitigated by, “BUT”.
The list of “BUTS” was long: Consider a few of the “You are saved as long as …”
Those are just a few of a much longer list. Any thought that salvation meant eternal security, better known as “once saved, always saved” , would be rejected immediately. I was never quite sure if that rejection came because of biblical/doctrinal understandings or because it was what the Baptists believed. I lean to the latter. The bottom line is, salvation was tenuous at best, always depending upon my continued measuring up. Rather than something received, salvation was a carrot on the end of a stick God continually dangled in front of me to assure my faithful obedience. Maybe that explains why I don’t celebrate a ” heavenly birthday”.
As I stated at the onset, salvation is a big deal, a really big deal. How one understand their salvation or lack of it, shapes the whole landscape of their life, as it did for me.
This post is not the end of the story. The occasion of my baptism was a memorable event that is the Ebenezer of my salvation. It began a spiritual journey that continues as I write. The path from that day to today has been long, seldom straight and often difficult. My journey has brought from “YES, BUT” to “YES”.
The next post, Intersections – Salvation (2), will focus on my story of salvation between “Yes,But” and “YES”
Ommatrichophobia – Fear of Eyebrows
Our time in Florida’s has been exceptionally pleasant; sunny and warm weather, connections with friends and neighbors, good food, outdoor concerts, farmers market, entertaining movies, antique show, and beach time.
One special aspect of our annual Florida visits is the opportunity for time together as a couple. Although being retired naturally provides more together time, Florida time is different and a nice change of pace. However, this year we have encountered a new and unusual challenge which is the subject of this post: Ommatrichophobia – Fear of Eyebrows .
Ann and I have been married for 57 years and you would think there isn’t much we don’t know about one another.,but I have recently come to realize Ann suffers from Ommatrichophobia – fear of eyebrows. Do not brush this aside, phobias are serious.
Fear generated by phobias can produce physiological changes in the body, accelerating the breathing rate, heart rate, leading to blushing and increasing muscle tension causing “goose bumps”, sweating, increased alertness leading to sleep disturbance and “butterflies in the stomach”. Concerning as they are, it gets complicated when you realize they also symptoms of sexual arousal.
Ann’s condition, probably one she has suffered from quietly for many years, is not unheard of. In recent years, UK basketball star Anthony Davis, in a brilliant marketing ploy, trademarked “fear the Brow” preying on ommatrichophobia.
So you are probably wondering what precipitated Ann’s current ommatrichophobia episode. As best I can discern, it started when I decided to exercise my inalienable right as an old man to pursue happiness. Happiness, in this case being defined as the freedom from culturally imposed conventions, namely neatly trimmed eyebrows There is no need to provide further justification for my decision, but I will any way.
Besides Anthony Davis, numerous Famous personalities have sported bushy eyebrows. My favorite is John L. Lewis. He was a notoriously tough union leader. I have wondered if someone had trimmed his eyebrows, would he have become powerless like Samson? Could he have ever bullied and intimidated without them? I think not.
How could anyone possibly imagine Andy Rooney being an effective curmudgeon without his signature eyebrows?
Beyond selfish reasons, there are some natural factors involved. As men get older it is very common to find their eyebrows have suddenly taken on a new lease of life and grown wild, bushy and out of control The change in eyebrows is due to hormonal changes. For many their levels of testosterone remain at a good level or even continue to increase up to the age of around 70 and this can encourage vigorous hair growth particularly in areas that were perhaps not as robust in younger years – areas such as the nose, ears and eyebrows. I’m not sure about testosterone levels but I can attest to some robustness.
I am not unsympathetic to Ann.In fact, I have researched treatment options and have decided to initiate some exposure therapy (Exposure therapy involves exposing the target patient to the anxiety source or its context without the intention to cause any danger. Doing so is thought to help them overcome their anxiety or distress.) in hopes of resolving her ommatrichophobia. Basically, that involves continued growth of my eyebrows and regular, intense eye contact with Ann. I anticipate when my eyebrows achieve the stature of this gentleman, she will be cured.
Of course your your thoughts and prayers for Ann’s healing are welcome.
Enjoy your week.
No surprise.
That all too familiar realization, occurred again this week in conversation with my neighbor. Here’s the back story.
I walked next door to have conversation with our neighbors. They regularly sit on their lanai and I had not talked with them since our arrival. It was a good conversation. I was pleased to learn that Rick is a woodworker and turner. Even better, he turns segmented bowls. Finding common interest the conversation turned to the challenge creating segments for bowls. ( don’t want to get into the weeds here, so bear with me)
I mentioned that as long as you cut segments at 30 degrees, 12 piece rings work well. He immediately corrected me, saying no, they are cut at 15 degrees. My response was quick. No, it’s 30 degrees. I did not argue, but his qualifications became suspect. Convinced I was correct, I redirect the conversation and we talked for a while longer.
(Fast forward two days )
I admitted (to myself) that I was wrong.
What happened in the intervening days is the subject of this post. I believe My experience revealed some dynamics that fuel disagreement, division, discord, even hatred and violence in our society and can possibly be helpful.
Here is what happened after our first conversation. Some of you may recognize my commitment to my rightness. Rick’s assertion that I was wrong triggered a relentless mental turmoil for me. I searched the internet for confirmation of my position. Finding none, I was mildly encouraged that I didn’t find absolute proof I was wrong.
I know it’s weird, but I awoke during the night. Laying in bed, I searched my memory for confirmation of my position, working through the logic that I used to reach my conclusion. Given the subject, my discomfort was beyond any reasonable measure. Although I harbored doubts, I remained steadfast that I was correct. My morning began with another search for confirming information.
Later in the day while sitting on my lanai, another neighbor, Bill, stopped to visit. It seems that he had heard I am a wood turner and being one also, he wanted to meet me. We had a great conversation. He, too, makes segmented bowls. Bill went to his place and brought some of his work for me to see. He is an outstanding wood turner. His segmented pieces are beautiful. My other neighbor, Rick, joined the conversation and eventually we got to cutting segments. Looking for support in my 30 degree position, I was sure Bill, being an expert, would confirm I was correct. When I mentioned cutting at 30 degrees, he looked at me with such a way that it was clear he didn’t agree. Joining with Rick, they proceeded, in a gentlemanly manner to tell me I was wrong. Wisely, I changed the subject.
I believe the mental gymnastics I described, produced from those conversations, are not unlike most people’s reaction when told they are wrong. I know a lot of people (including myself) that are adamant they are not mistaken in their rightness. Somehow our belief that we are right trumps the truth that we are fallible beings.
Here are some takeaways from those conversations:
IF you are interested, here are a couple of earlier related posts: