dgausepohl's Xanga

Questing for Intimacy...Apart from Marriage

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 17:40:51 GMT

In Genesis we read God pronouncing that it is not good for man (a human) to be alone. Scripture also tells us that if we seek God's kingdom first, he will add to us all we need. Assuming this is true, and one is single, how does God go about meeting our need for intimacy, or "non-aloneness", outside of marriage? "Through relationship with others." is the simple answer. There's a lot of instruction in the bible about how to treat one another well; how to love well. Beyond laws that govern societal behavior, I believe God wants us to treat one another in loving ways for another reason - to ease the aloneness of one another. There will always be those among us who are not married. Even so, God does not want them to be alone, "It is not good..." So how does a single Christian alleviate their sense of aloneness? If they are primarily seeking God's kingdom, how does God meet their need for intimacy? Let's examine a few answers I've heard over the years.

In small groups. Truly in a healthy small group one has opportunity to experience biblical community. Small group involvement can help alleviate a sense of aloneness in a corporate way. But was corporate relating what God was referring to when he said it was not good for man to be alone?

Through friends. We all enjoy the friends God has brought into our life. Some of them are good friends. Some are close friends. A few we may consider intimate friends. With an intimate friend we have opportunity to make our self vulnerable, and be known in ways much closer to what I believe God intended in his pronouncement "It is not good for man to be alone..."

This begs the question (at least in my mind):
"Can a single man and a single woman be intimate friends, without romantic involvement, and thus still meet the need for intimacy in one another?"

I think it depends on the man and woman. I've known those who have tried and failed. One or the other became interested romantically in the other, but with no reciprocation. Eventually the relationship became painful to the otherwise interested one, and they were no longer willing to be friends, much to the chagrin of the friend.

However lofty it may seem for a man and woman to be friends and nothing else, I believe it is entirely possible, and even a healthy pursuit. Yes it takes maturity on both parties part, and lots of communication and fortitude. Of all places to work out such a thing, the community of faith, or the Church should be that place. With biblical instruction, and encouragement from those mature in faith and willing to mentor, nonromantic male/female relationships can be very fulfilling, even if they are challenging. I truly believe that men have much to learn from women, and women from men. I believe the complementarity that can be enjoyed, one gender to another, is mutually beneficial.

Furthermore, I believe the world is eager to see the Church model such relating, for it has rarely been seen, much less experienced. For a man and woman to relate to each other in a healthy intimate way, without emotional dependence, without objectification, without secret expectation, has yet to be seen by many, even in the church. Additionally, could we be missing God's efforts to meet our needs because we are not mature enough or brave enough to have close intimate friends with the opposite gender?

The dialog will be ongoing, but the subject does deserve open discussion. I myself am looking for those brave souls willing to risk the journey. Many who are perhaps still fearful and unsure are looking for the answers.

The Holy Practice of Shunning the Inconvenient

Wed, 06 Aug 2008 21:32:00 GMT

Part of Ireland's and the Roman church's history is the shameful practice of sending young girls thought to be immoral into servitude in the laundries of the country's convents. Mind you some of these were pregnant by their own fathers, brothers, uncles, even priests.

I hope we've come a long way from there, but I don't really think so. We as the church still shun those considered an embarrassment, not wanting to get our hands dirty in another's plight. Joni Mitchell put it well in the following lyrics.

Magdalene Laundries (Joni Mitchell)

I was an unmarried girl
I'd just turned twenty-seven
When they sent me to the sisters
For the way men looked at me
Branded as a jezebel
I knew I was not bound for Heaven
I'd be cast in shame
Into the Magdalene laundries

Most girls come here pregnant
Some by their own fathers
Bridget got that belly
By her parish priest
We're trying to get things white as snow
All of us woe-begotten-daughters
In the steaming stains
Of the Magdalene laundries

Prostitutes and destitutes
And temptresses like me--
Fallen women--
Sentenced into dreamless drudgery ...
Why do they call this heartless place
Our Lady of Charity?
Oh charity!

These bloodless brides of Jesus
If they had just once glimpsed their groom
Then they'd know, and they'd drop the stones
Concealed behind their rosaries
They wilt the grass they walk upon
They leech the light out of a room
They'd like to drive us down the drain
At the Magdalene laundries

Peg O'Connell died today
She was a cheeky girl
A flirt
They just stuffed her in a hole!
Surely to God you'd think at least some bells should ring!
One day I'm going to die here too
And they'll plant me in the dirt
Like some lame bulb
That never blooms come any spring
Not any spring
No, not any spring
Not any spring

TRIBUTE TO DAD

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 14:04:56 GMT

It's been awhile since I've posted, and a lot has happened during that while. Most notably, my father died on May 21st, 2008 after a year long battle with prostate cancer.

The last 2 months of this fight were tough on him, resulting in his death, and tough on us as well, as we struggled through still unfamiliar feelings of denial, loss, grief, and what I've come to call "diminished emotional capacities". I don't think anything can prepare you well for the death of a loved one, especially a parent, child, or sibling. I don't think I've handled it well. By that I mean I've been rather numb about it all, missing Dad of course, but feeling guilty that I'm not more broken up emotionally, like I've done him some sort of disservice or dishonor. Maybe it hasn't been long enough, and I'll get in touch with how I feel at a later date; I've heard of others who've experienced that, but I don't think so, if I know myself at all.

There's certainly plenty to miss about Dad though, and plenty to remind me of him. Mom seems to be adjusting alright, under the circumstances. She lives about a mile from me, and I see her often, helping with what Dad did for her before. We always recount what a good husband and father he was. Lately I find myself doing something, reading something, talking to someone, that I wish I could share with him, but alas, I cannot, for he no longer resides upon this earth. But I have no doubts that he does live someplace else, probably not very far away. There have been no doubts of his continuation.

Dad loved Jesus, being a disciplined man of personal integrity, faith, study, prayer, and service to this Savior of his that by his account had forgiven him of so much. He loved the Church and also those outside the Church, especially the common working man. No matter what he had ever accomplished personally, he always saw himself as connected to the blue collar working class, those who work hard for their living and their families. At a time when he was junior partner and vice president of a manufacturing plant in Houston he often spent his lunch hours playing cards or dominoes with the hourly employees in the shop.

His values, authenticity, and example permanently reside in me, challenging me away from the trappings of duplicity, and toward genuine faith in the Crucified One , and service for His Kingdom . At the end of my days may I have said about me half of what is said about him, for if so, it will have been a good life indeed.

Conversion...........................No not that Kind!!!

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 19:15:16 GMT

PROJECT In my last post I shared the hog hunting story, and what firearms I was using. This post is about customizing the handgun I spoke of in the last post. I had purchased the Ruger Super Blackhawk .44 magnum with the intention of doing some changes to it. I love this firearm as designed by Bill Ruger who singlehandedly brought back the single-action revolver that had all but passed into oblivion until Bill's design of his Blackhawk in the 1950's. But I've never liked the stock grip on the guns. I have however liked the 'Bisley' grip.

HISTORY With the invention of these repeating handguns (revolvers) in the 1800's by Webley, Colt, Smith and Wesson and the like, also came sporting events devised to showcase the new arms and the skills of those who wielded them. One such event was started in 1859 in Wimbledon (England); a target match replete with Queen Victoria firing the first round to start the event. It was moved to Bisley in 1890, where the National Shooting Centre remains till this day. For the competition, Colt firearms, at the request of their shooting team, altered it's single action revolver of the late 1800's to a target configuation, with special grip, sights, hammer, and trigger. They called the model the Colt Bisley in honor of the event in that English town.

CONVERSION I set out to alter the gun to my liking, and purchased the Bisley trigger, hammer, and grip frame, as well as matched black walnut grip panels. Mind you I have never disassembled this or any other revolver before, save the removal of the cylinder for the purpose of cleaning. I was a bit intimidated with all the pins, screws, springs, etc. that came apart in my hand. Thankfully the internet provided enough schematics and instruction to calm my nerves once again. Having taken the standard trigger, hammer, and grip frame off of the cylinder frame, I began reassembly with the new parts. I got one thing wrong after another, as it must go back together in a particular order. With great frustration and enough time I was successful.

FINISHING I headed to the range to verify I had indeed assembled it correctly as to still be able to ignite a live round. Yes, it still fired! Back to the bench. I say 'back to the bench' because I've only done the 'assembly part'; now the 'fitting & polishing' part must be done. I disassemble again. The grip frame and cylinder frame do not fit perfectly, with about 1/16" that needs to be taken off of the top of the grip frame to make it match. I secure the grip frame in my vise, and begin whittling with a flat file, rematching often so as to not remove too much metal. When each are just about matched I break out the Dremel and it's abrasive wheels. I polish out the file marks where I've been removing metal, as well as the sides of the grip frame that still have not been polished. I also employ the use of my wife's emery board for some hand work. The abrasive wheel and the emery board both produce a brushed finish on the stainless steel that resembles the finish on the rest of the gun. I now reassemble and install the black walnut grip panels. The project is complete. I am amazed with the difference this Bisley grip makes in accuracy and in controlling perceived recoil.

CARTRIDGES My attention will now turn to load development where I will assemble my own combination of brass, bullet, primer, and gun powder to produce custom .44 magnum cartridges for hunting. More to come...

Hoggin'

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 21:46:22 GMT

WARNING - THIS POST MAY BE OFFENSIVE TO CITY DWELLERS!

In the fall and early winter whitetail deer, goose, duck, and turkey are hunted. But feral hog can be hunted year round. This is because feral hog are plentiful as well as downright destructive to crops and wildlife habitat. Feral hog are simply domestic hogs that have escaped and bred with European wild hog.

A month ago now a friend and I were hunting for hog in 38 degree rainy weather, and he was fortunate enough to bag a 300 lbs. boar. We had to track him into heavy brush in the dark after he was shot, which was scary, but found him within 100 yards. He was a tremendous animal! He was covered with course black hair which also stood straight up on the back of his neck. He had razor sharp tusks (Texas ivory) that were 3 inches in length, making me glad that my friend had not just wounded him. We about wore ourselves out getting him to a place that we could access by truck, but with a little sweat and quite a bit of grunting we got him into the back of it.

Gutting, skinning, and quartering a 300 lbs. animal was a new experience for me and I learned a lot. Unlike domestic pork a feral hog eats acorns and various roots as his primary diet. Therefore there was little to no fat on him. Afterwards we could still hardly lift the ice chest. We carted the quartered hog to the meat processor where my friend gave instructions for the cuts he wanted.

Before you get too put off by all of this remember that this is similar to how all meat was come by back in bible days (but with arrows and spears instead of bullets). Though you might have sheep, goats, or cattle in your backyard, the processing would be about the same. Esau preferred the wild game to domestic.

I hunt with a Marlin 336 lever action rifle in .35 Remington caliber with a 2-7X32 scope.

My back up handgun is a stainless Ruger Super Blackhawk with 4 5/8" barrel in .44 magnum.

Always Changing Roles

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 19:48:37 GMT

During our LifeGroup gathering last night M. Lenert led us in a discussion regarding "OUR CALLING". We discussed how calling was different from career, but that our careers could reflect our calling. We discussed how we have these inherent longings/interests/passions within each of us, sometimes even from early childhood, wanting to be fulfilled. These are sometimes even obscured by our parents wishes for us, or the track they might have us on.

B. Hoover added that in times past she mistakenly took her sense of calling from whatever role she found herself playing out at the time; roles like wife, mother, manager, pastor's wife, etc., but that she is looking more to who she IS, rather than what she DOES to figure out her calling.

We had a time of prayer afterward that God would indeed lead us each according to his dreams for our lives, and help us discover and be commissioned to fulfill our calling. During this prayer time T. Herren described a scene running through her head during prayer.

It was a panorama of a battlefield, with some on the front lines fighting, but with many others doing various and a sundry tasks to support those on the front. Some made ammo, some transported various supplies, some cared for the wounded, etc. Additionally, roles changed, with some behind the lines going to the front, and those on the front lines coming back to fill various supply roles. So no one took their sense of calling from what they were currently doing, because what they were doing could change; but all were soldiers nonetheless.

This perspective was helpful for all of us, as we all participate in a very production oriented culture, especially here in the big city.

My sense of calling goes back to when I was 21 years of age, sleeping on a garage floor in east New Orleans, and trying to build relationships nightly in the French Quarter. I had gotten to know a lot of the street people, prostitutes, and dancers from the clubs in the Quarter since me and some colleagues were there nightly for months on end. My head was reeling from all that I had been learning on the streets and from the bible, simultaneously. I knew one thing for certain - that all I was learning in scripture had vast implications for me and every person I was attempting to share the gospel with...........................................and I still do.

That sense of being called to affect others with the truths, implications, and applications of scripture has never left me, no matter what roles I have played since then, whether husband, father, employee, manager, employer, LifeGroup leader, pastoral council member, cluster leader, or pastor.

So, what calling is always with you, compelling you to do things differently, stirring your passion for God and others in whatever roles you find yourself in?

More Shooting Fun

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 17:35:40 GMT

Well, again I went to the range on Friday, this time with Jay Young in tow. Now some could have misgivings about putting a loaded firearm into the hands of Wild Jayman, but having spent quite a bit of time with Jay I knew I was up for it. Jay actually had a knack for punching holes in targets with lead slung at high velocities (target shooting), with both the 9mm Glock and the .22 caliber Ruger rifle. It was a great day to be in the outdoors, and I hope that more of you can join me soon. You're next Geneva!

Epics and Why They are So

Thu, 18 Oct 2007 17:28:43 GMT

I am a great fan of epic movies. Some that readily pop to mind are Dances with Wolves, Out of Africa, Legends of the Fall, even the mini-series Lonesome Dove.

Last week I re watched Legends Of the Fall with Patsy and a few friends. During this watching I realized why these movies move me so much emotionally. Yeah, sure the music is a big part; movie scores are an integral part of engaging and moving an audience emotionally. But primarily the congruous theme to these stories is "LOSS".

My mom is known to joke, "Of all the things I've lost in my life, I miss my mind the most." But in these stories-turned-epic-movies the loss seems to be that of things irretrievable.

In Dances with Wolves there is the loss of the hope that progressing civilization will stop long enough to understand and embrace the indigenous peoples of the North American continent.

In Out of Africa it is the loss of the beautiful and unspoiled wilderness of Africa, and the loss of hope in anything resembling romantic love, (along with the hope to understand and embrace the indigenous peoples of the African continent).

In Legends of the Fall it is the loss of hope that men and women could live in simplicity without being hastled by or exploited by men or women of power and prominence, the loss of hope in government being "for the people", (as well as the loss of the hope that progressing civilization will stop long enough to understand and embrace the indigenous peoples of the North American continent, and the loss of hope in anything resembling romantic love).

Are you starting to see a pattern here? Loss of hope, loss of security, loss of innocence, loss of love, the failings of ideals, i.e., the tragedy of life.

BTW, Lonesome Dove is brilliantly all of the above, but with a screw-'em-all response to it all, which is why I secretly wish to be a cowboy and ride into the sunset with Gus, my Colt SAA, my Winchester 1873, my best boots, my best hat, and my best gal, on my best horse, but those would be my issues and me and John Eldridge will get therapy and prayer for those soon.

The literary (and subsequent movie) critics will rightly criticize my shallowness and shortsightedness regarding these fine tales and their inner workings. But like it or not (and I don't), much of life is about loss. Patsy (my best gal) recently lost her father to what looks to be a blood clot to the lung; a quick death. Her sense of loosing her father is overwhelming, and she says she wants to awake each morning realizing it was but a bad dream. I've heard similar stories from others.

Some tell of the loss suffered by the infidelity of a spouse; the hole it leaves in you. Others tell of the abuse they suffered at the hands of an abusively broken, but stronger person, and the loss of safety, security, innocence, and sense of self, and of all they've missed of life as a result.

Like it or not, life contains disappointment, grief, hurt, death, tragedy, loss. It's not healthy to deny it. But it's hard to embrace it. I am joyous there is Someone who brings healing and redemption in His wings. We need it; the whole earth needs it. Even so, come quickly.

YIPPY-KI-YAY!

Wed, 05 Sep 2007 19:24:49 GMT

I enjoyed my trip to West Texas and the Davis Mountains. The wide open spaces just do something to (for) my soul.. It was me, Patsy, and Trisha Herren on the trip. We drove from Houston to San Antonio on I-10, then took US 90 the rest of the way, going through Uvalde, Del Rio, coming to Langtry just west of the Pecos River, and just north of the Rio Grande. This is where Judge Roy Bean dispensed his unique brand of justice for this wild territory in the 1800's. It's still no picnic spot, with a current population of 30.

We stayed the first night in Sanderson, Texas at the Outback Oasis Motel (circa 1945) with the owners, Ruth and Roy Engeldorf. When we asked Ruth if they grew up in Sanderson she said no, but they had moved there from Kansas City because Roy likes snakes. She then showed me the room that housed 40+ live specimens from the surrounding desert, including 10 different kinds of rattlesnakes. The girls did not venture a look. The rooms were $38 and $58 per night, and we and Trish opted for the "luxury suite" at the $58 price, though both had clean rooms and good beds. We ate dinner that night at Paddy's Restaurant. Though it took a while to get the food, we soon realized it was because everything was being prepared from scratch, and our food was delicious.

The next day we proceeded west on US 90, going through Marathon, Alpine, and Marfa, all of these just north of Big Bend. When we reached Marfa we turned north onto TX17 and in a few short miles arrived in Fort Davis. Now at 5,100 feet above sea level the temperatures were now 88 for a high and dipping to 60 at night, and unheard of in Texas during August. Here we stayed at the Limpia Hotel (circa 1912) for the next 2 nights. With a population of 1050, we found ourselves enjoying this quite, quaint, historical Texas town. The old frontier fort has been renovated, and one can start to imagine what life in West Texas in the mid-1800's might have been like.

The 75 mile scenic loop west of town offered incredible views of the Davis Mountain region, McDonald Observatory, and silence I've not experienced in years. We got out of the truck several times, and were afraid to speak for fear of breaking the silence. It was a privilege to witness the vastness of this region of our great state. I recommend you visit if you haven't, and pay homage in your own way to the brave men and women who got there before us, and settled this beautiful land. But if you do, don't forget your cowboy hat!