This Post Has No Intrinsic Value

I had a very interesting experience last night.  (Notice the word “interesting” does not connotate “good” here).  After dinner, Chris went upstairs to take a short nap, and after awhile, I went upstairs also.  I was going to put on my swimsuit to work on cleaning the pool filter, then take a swim.

When I went into the bedroom, Chris was awake, so I lay down with him for a moment, just being silly and a little bit annoying.  A little tickling, a little giggling, you know.  Well, Smokey (Jacob’s dog), who always wants to be in the middle of all the action, came bounding up onto the bed, barking and licking.

Now this is not a problem when my 15-lb Charlie does this.  But Smokey is 60 pounds.  And he has a realllly long tongue.  So when he began jumping on us, it pretty much broke up the party.

I sat up, and as I did, I noticed blood on my arm.  “I’m bleeding!”  I said to Chris (I know, I've got a way with words...).  I wiped the sizable amount of blood off my arm to discover the type of wound below, thinking perhaps Smokey’s toenail had scratched me.  Then I noticed there was blood all over my arm and leg.  My stomach did flip-flops.  Eew.

Chris was sitting up by this time, too.  “There’s blood all over the bed!” he exclaimed, and I looked up to see that the bed was indeed covered in splatters of blood. 

I felt like we were in one of those B-rated horror movies where the teenagers are making out, getting all hot and bothered, then suddenly the guy says, “What’s that dripping on my head?”  And the girl turns on the light, and her BEST FRIEND is impaled on the ceiling above them.

Don’t worry, no dead bodies over here. 

Chris, always the doctor, quickly figured out it was Smokey that was bleeding (the trail of blood on the carpet leading to the dog was a fairly telling clue), but considering Smokey is black, it took a moment to figure out where to blood was coming from.  Meanwhile, the blood was literally splashing off his body, hitting the floor, the banisters, ME…

“Must’ve hit an artery…” Chris commented as I found a puncture on his ear where apparently Cocoa had bit him during one of their “disagreements”.  Applying pressure, I called for Carina to come help.  She looked at me rather funny when I asked her to hold Smokey; “Mom, you’ve got blood all over your face.”  Eeew. 

Here's Smokey with his freakish bi-colored eyes...

...and here's a dingo.  See the similarities?

 And then I had another movie flashback.  A Cry in the Dark, with Meryl Streep yelling out “The dingo ate my baby!”  Which may sound like a really strange flashback, but if you read the book (and of course, being the nerd that I am, I did), the court case centered all around this “arterial spray” that was supposedly found in the family’s car.  That phrase, "arterial spray", has haunted me ever since I read it.  (And, freakishly enough, the baby died in 1980, and her death certificate was issued just two weeks ago.) So I was thinking that I had my very own arterial spray going on from my dog’s ear.  Have I said eeew yet?

Fortunately, dogs are hardy creatures, the blood clotted on its own, and Smokey was quickly distracted with the sound of food hitting his bowl downstairs.  Cocoa looked rather sheepish, sniffing his ear and moping around as if she knew she’d been bad.  But, on the other hand, she always mopes around. 

"Look at me.  I'm so sad."

Fifty Shades of Grey--I Jump into the Fray

Okay, I’m a little hesitant about this, especially because it reminds me of the whole Harry Potter debacle, back in the day.  But I feel compelled to speak my mind about this book, Fifty Shades of Grey, because I haven’t heard or seen my viewpoint out there yet.  Not that I think I’m all that; but because this perspective came to me during a time of prayer, I believe it’s important and relevant and God wants me to tell it.

First, I have to say that I haven’t read Fifty Shades of Grey.  I know that puts me at a disadvantage in a blog dedicated to discussing the book.  I’ve read as many “Surprise Me!” sections that Amazon would let me without actually buying the book, plus the Wikipedia entry (and you know that Wikipedia knows all!), along with a few fan sites.  I wanted to understand the book without actually ingesting the sex scenes that I’ve heard so much about, and I think I managed to get a flavor of the book without the smut.

Okay, I know that sounded judgmental, but I assure you, that’s not where I’m going.  I’ve seen the opinions where the book and its readers are judged as sinful, lustful pornography addicts.  And I’ve seen the opinions that praise the book for its sexual freedoms.  And I’ve seen the opinions that say the book is a lousy piece of crap that never should have been published.

But here’s what bothers me:  The book is about, essentially, a rapist and his victim.  Sure, he’s all “gentlemanly” about it with his “contract”, but it’s emotional manipulation.  She is held captive by him and abused.  And it makes me wonder why women are eating this up.  Why they are turned on by this.  And instead of judging, I wonder if there is something deeper going on.

One thing that comes to mind is the statistic that one in three women has been sexually abused in their lives.  I used to disbelieve this statistic, until recently.  It appears to be true.  Could it be that this book has gone viral simply because of the number of emotionally and sexually scarred women there are out there?

If you were abused, wouldn’t you want to read the story of an innocent woman who was victimized, soiled, cruelly tortured, but somehow brought out the goodness in her abuser?  Wouldn’t you desperately want to believe that, deep within yourself, you had been special, that, just like the protagonist, you could have found the deep scars within the man and turned him into a loving creature?  Wouldn’t you want to believe that goodness and love could come out of an abusive situation?

Or maybe you are stuck in a relationship that simply isn’t doing it for you anymore sexually.  And it’s easier to imagine sex with someone else through fantasy.  Rape fantasies take away the guilt because it’s not your fault that you’re having sex with someone else (or so some wise counselor once told me), so you enjoy this book with its BDSM elements.

Either way, or perhaps neither way, I believe the reasoning behind why you are reading a book is as important as what you are reading.  It may be painful, and it may expose some truths about yourself that you’d rather not explore, but dealing with the issues brings relief and satisfaction far beyond the temporary thrill of an erotic novel.

If you’re married, and need a little spice, why look for fantasy when you can have the real thing?  Are you waiting for him to make the first move?  Do you lack ideas?  Try reading Sheet Music by Kevin Lehman instead.  It might get your blood pumping with something that you can actually do something about.  Or if you have abuse in your past, you may prefer Real Marriage by Mark and Grace Driscoll (although it’s good for the average marriage, too).  These books incite you to think about hot, spicy Godly sex with your husband.

And if there’s something massively wrong with your sex life, don’t bury it.  Get help.  Get medical help, spiritual help, counseling, whatever it is that you personally need.  But hiding in a fantasy isn’t going to improve anything.  Finding out why it’s more interesting to you to read about other people having sex than actually having sex is probably important for your marriage.  Talk.

If you’re single or divorced, and a Christian, then why are you tempting yourself with thoughts that you can’t fulfill?  As the bride of Christ, it is a privilege to remain pure for Him, both in body and in mind.  Perhaps you need to begin or increase your exercise regimen or use this time to increase your intimacy with the Lover of your soul.  I know, easy to say, not easy to do.  But also consider the possibility of a future spouse.  You don’t want him to be clouding his mind with pornography, do you?  Written sex scenes are just as potent as visual ones, especially for women.  There’s a reason Fifty Shades of Grey has been dubbed “Mommy Porn”. 

Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.  Philippians 4:8(MSG)

I’m hoping I don’t sound judgmental.  I wrote what I did, not because I’m such a spiritual giant (because I most certainly am NOT), but because my sin has convicted me and because I’ve seen what damage sexual sin can do to people.  I want the best for you, the best that God has planned for you.

OCD Top Ten, Part 2

Top Ten Things I Like About My OCD:

1.        My alphabetized spice rack.  I love to see my spices all lined up in a neat row.  It only includes the glass McCormick spices (the plastic ones are shunned and placed in a cabinet).  It did throw me when they started changing the lid colors, and at first I replaced the new, black lids with the older, green ones.  Then I learned that the purpose of the lid change was to help you realize the age of your spices, so I allowed it.

2.       My rainbow, color-coded closet.  As with the spices, it just makes me happy to see such organization.  It takes little effort to keep up, and it makes coordination a snap!

3.       There is always something entertaining to do.  Compulsive counting can occupy hours of time.

4.       The dentist has never needed to grind my teeth down to make them even.  I’ve done that for him.  Not that they usually do that sort of thing on humans, but I recently saw a vet do that to some horses, and it didn’t look fun.

5.       I have an uncanny knack for locating anything the family needs, anywhere in the house, since I’ve memorized where it all belongs, and where it all is, plus usually the process it took to get there.

6.       I know where everyone has been, what they’ve done, and how much they’ve eaten, just by walking into the room.  It makes the children paranoid, and that’s fun.

7.       Certainly, I must have excellent powers of concentration to focus on one thing, to the exclusion of all others, for hours on end.

8.       It makes disciplining the children easier, because whining has no effect on obsessive-compulsive thinking.  Some things must be done, and the precious-moments eyes don’t work on me.

9.       The opportunity to conquer something bigger than me.  I may sound crazy, (but, hey, that’s an established fact anyway…) but there’s something wonderful about overcoming something that I had considered to be desperately hopeless.  Even when there’s a whole lot of failure involved in the process of succeeding.  And I’m not there yet.  I’m just learning that the journey often becomes more important than the destination.

10.   Finding the scandalous love of my Savior in the middle of my journey.  Because there is no way to conquer something bigger than yourself without learning to lean on the strength of the One bigger than your problems.  Sometimes I love my OCD simply because it forces me to my knees in desperation, to cry out, to listen to the call of my Father who loves me more than He loved His own life.

…Those who enter into Christ’s being-here-for-us no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud.  A new power is in operation.  The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death….Those who think they can do it on their own end up obsessed with measuring their own moral muscle but never get around to exercising it in real life.  Those who trust God’s action in them find that God’s Spirit is in them—living and breathing God!...It stands to reason, doesn’t it, that if the alive-and-present God who raised Jesus from the dead moves into your life, he’ll do the same thing in you that he did in Jesus, bringing you alive to himself?  When God lives and breathes in you (and he does, as surely as he did in Jesus), you are delivered from that dead life.  With his Spirit living in you, your body will be as alive as Christ’s!

This resurrection life you received from God is…adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?”  God’s Spirit touches our sprits and confirms who we really are.  We know who he is, and we know who we are:  Father and children.  And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance!

So, what do you think?  With God on our side like this, how can we lose?  If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us?...The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us….I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.  Romans 8(MSG)

Above all, beyond my disorders and pain, I am a daughter of the King!

OCD Top Ten

Top Ten Things I Hate About My OCD:

1.        When people (insert “family” here) don’t put things back where they belong (and there is a place for everything, and everything belongs in its place), I go completely bonkers.

2.        Trying to hold a coherent conversation with a person while feeling compelled to count the number of buttons on their shirt, patterns on their clothing, ceiling tiles in the room, etc.  And then they ask me a question, and I nearly answer with “469!” or whatever number I’m on instead of the appropriate response.

3.       Having to wear a mouth guard when my teeth grinding gets out of control.  It’s soooo un-cool.

4.       The particular order that I am compelled to clean my house in.  It starts in the most remote area of the house and moves outward.  So people are most likely to think I’m a slob because the neat areas are rarely seen.  And since I am compelled to start the cleaning order over every day, I rarely get to certain areas in the house.

5.       Obsessing about relatively useless things, like how many cotton balls are in the jar.  Instead, I could be spending my time obsessing over thermonuclear engineering, then I could get a job with one of these new private companies making manned rocket ships, and take a trip to the space station.  Although they probably wouldn’t let someone with an anxiety disorder who has a tendency to hyperventilate to go into outer space.  (“Why are the oxygen levels being depleted so fast…hey, what’s all that heavy breathing I’m hearing over my ‘com?”).

6.       Being inflexible.  Making other people behave a certain way so that I’m comfortable.

7.       Every time I back out of the garage, I have this fear that I’m going to hit someone that may have been lying behind my car or in the driveway, and I didn’t see them.  It’s a moment of panic every time I leave the house.

8.       Did I leave the oven on?  Or is it off?  Should I go back home and check?  The house could burn down if I don’t go back home…I think I’ll just run home and check.

9.       Light switches that point in the wrong direction.  You know, the kind where there are two switches, one on each side of the room, and the on/off gets messed up.  Then “up” is off and “down” is on, and the world is just crazy!  It’s wrong.

10.   Checking things.  Is the bathroom clean?  I'm not sure.  The bathroom "fairies" may have come and dirtied it since I last cleaned it.  I'd better go check.  Oh no, they WERE here.  Better clean it again.  (Okay, I don't believe in fairies, but somehow, something made the room dirty, and I feel compelled to clean again.)

Sometimes it's easier to poke a little fun at the pain.  Later, I'll post my top ten reasons why I like my OCD.