The God Particle

by Joanie Butman

You’ve probably heard the recent announcement that Francois Englert and Peter Higgs were awarded the Nobel Prize for their discovery of the sub-atomic Higgs boson, more commonly referred to as the‘God Particle.’ I have little interest (or understanding) in advanced science, but the name intrigued me given the usual disdain many scientists have towards the possibility of a divine creator. Apparently, the religious and scientific communities are finally in agreement about something: their dislike for the nickname. God Particle is certainly a misleading name, but it has done its job by sensationalizing the discovery and attracting the attention of the general public to the Higgs boson, what it is, how it ‘matters’ and the enormous amount of work and money dedicated over the past 50 years to prove its existence. Think about it: Unless you’re into science, would you really be enticed by an article about the discovery of a sub-atomic particle? I know I wouldn’t have given it a second glance.

The moniker was coined by another Nobel prize-winning physicist, Leon Lederman, as a title to his 1993 book, The God Particle: If the Universe Is the Answer, What Is the Question?When questioned about his choice of title, he answered, “Why God Particle? Two reasons. One, the publisher wouldn’t let us call it TheGoddamn Particle, given its villainous nature and the expense it is causing. And two, there is a connection, of sorts, to another book, a much older one. . . ”  There’s a cliff hanger. Higgs is particularly unhappy with Lederman’s designation. He is quoted as saying “I’m an atheist, but I have an uneasy feeling that playing around with names like that could be unnecessarily offensive to people who are religious.” I thought his statement showed an enormous amount of grace and sensitivity. Frankly, I was more impressed with that then his Higgs boson.

In Hebrews 11:1 the Bible says that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” While Higgs may claim to be an atheist, it’s obvious he has faith – science is his god. I suppose that’s as good a starting point as any because I believe at the end of science is where he will make his ultimate discovery. Scientists spend their entire lives trying to solve mysteries whose solutions just lead to more mysteries. The same can be said of the Christian journey. It is like peeling an onion one layer at a time. For me each layer reveals another facet of the divine. For physicists each layer reveals another facet of His creation to be unraveled.

I can think of a better reason for christening this newfound particle the God Particle. You can’t see it. Yet, not only does it exist, but it is the basis on which all mass and matter are formed. That sounds eerily similar to a supreme being regardless of what name you assign. I can’t prove the existence of God anymore than Higgs could prove the existence of the sub-atomic particle bearing his name 50 years ago. On the flipside, no one can prove  He doesn't exist either. The object of my faith is a personal God that defies scientific explanation. He is meant to be experienced, not explained. Faith requires a certain comfort with mystery. Still, a changed heart is all the proof I will ever need to know that God is real, God is good, God is with me.

After reading a little about the God Particle, it wasn’t long before I remembered why science was my least favorite subject in school. However, while viewing a clip of the Nobel announcement, I watched with interest as Higgs wiped a tear from his eye. I smiled because I truly believe when you discover the God Particle, which resides in the deepest recesses of your soul, you can’t help but be moved to tears. How utterly incredible that the Creator of all that is, chooses to dwell within His children and partner with us as we travel through life.

Contrary to what many believe, I’ve never felt that science and spirituality need to be mutually exclusive.Historically, there have been plenty of famous scientists who believed in the existence of a supreme being. As a Christian, I’ve always considered science as simply the study of HOW God does things. I study the Creator, scientists study creation. What amazes me is how anyone can study science and not believe in a creator. Albert Einstein is a perfect example of a man of science with a healthy appreciation for spirituality as his statement reveals: "Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind."

Another interesting thing I discovered in my reading is the amount of people involved in the Higgs boson discovery beginning with Englert and Higgs’ original group of six physicists that proposed the theory in 1964. Over the next fifty years, billions of dollars and hundreds of people were involved in proving its existence. Regardless, the Nobel Prize can only be awarded to individuals not groups. And so it is with salvation. As I half-jokingly tell my family every time I leave for church, “Remember, God doesn’t offer a family plan. You can’t get in by proxy.”

You don’t need to be a scientist to discover the true God Particle. Even Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz eventually learned that: “the next time I go looking for my heart’s desire, I won't look any further than my own backyard.” God yearns to be your heart’s desire. He is waiting in the backyard of your heart, but it is your choice whether or not to begin your own journey of discovery. That road isn’t always easy; it is fraught with just as many dangers and mishaps as Dorothy’s yellow brick road, but you won't be traveling it alone. I can tell you from personal experience it’swell worth the effort and is far more valuable than anything you can hope to gain in this world.

I choose to savor the mystery of God. The following poem may give you some insight as to why.

Do you need Me ? 

I am there.

You cannot see Me, yet I am the light you see by. 

You cannot hear Me, yet I speak through your voice. 

You cannot feel Me, yet I am the power at work in your hands.

I am at work, though you do not understand My ways. 

I am at work, though you do not understand My works. 

I am not strange visions. I am not mysteries.

Only in absolute stillness, beyond self, can you know Me 

as I AM, and then but as a feeling and a faith.

Yet I am here. Yet I hear. Yet I answer. 

When you need ME, I am there. 

Even if you deny Me, I am there. 

Even when you feel most alone, I am there. 

Even in your fears, I am there. 

Even in your pain, I am there.

I am there when you pray and when you do not pray. 

I am in you, and you are in Me. 

Only in your mind can you feel separate from Me, for 

only in your mind are the mists of "yours" and "mine". 

Yet only with your mind can you know Me and experience Me.

Empty your heart of empty fears. 

When you get yourself out of the way, I am there. 

You can of yourself do nothing, but I can do all. 

And I AM in all.

Though you may not see the good, good is there, for 

I am there. I am there because I have to be, because I AM.

Only in Me does the world have meaning; only out of Me does the world take form; only because of ME does the world go forward. 

I am the law on which the movement of the stars and the growth of living cells are founded.

I am the love that is the law's fulfilling. I am assurance. 

I am peace. I am oneness.  I am the law that you can live by. 

I am the love that you can cling to. I am your assurance. 

I am your peace. I am ONE with you. I am.

Though you fail to find ME, I do not fail you. 

Though your faith in Me is unsure, My faith in you never 

wavers, because I know you, because I love you.

Beloved, I AM there.

                                                                            James Dillet Freeman

The HeBGB Factor

by Joanie Butman

I have a new male friend. I don’t know what it is about me – the little guys like me, the old guys like me, the ones in the middle I’ve never had much success with until I met my husband. My new friend is my parents’ neighbor at 'The Farm.' He likes assisted living about as much as they do, which is probably why they get along so well.

The best thing about young (really young) and older men is that it is the only time you can have a male friend without anyone making it into something it’s not. I’m no creeper and I already have a sugar daddy named Bob. No, Sam (my 4-yr-old friend) and now Norman (my 96-yr-old friend) and I just enjoy each other’s company – at least from my point of view. Truthfully, Norman just celebrated his 86th birthday, but he likes to say he’s 96 so people will tell him how great he looks for his age – a strategy I’ve also employed when needing a boost. Norman is not my first octogenarian buddy. There is Mr. C., my children’s old soccer coach, and sadly a John and a Jack who are no longer with us. I hope Norman doesn’t panic when he hears my track record.

It’s early in the ‘relationship,’ but I look forward to many more marathon breakfasts with him where the conversations are lively and long. Not many people have the luxury of having a two-hour breakfast, nor are there many who would take the time even if they could. That’s the beauty of the very young and the very old – they’ve got nothing but time on their hands. The fact that Sam or Norman would choose to spend it with me is an honor.

During those breakfast conversations we’ve discussed books, politics, aging, families and a glut of other topics. Spirituality has come up quite a bit. Norman doesn’t share my faith, but he graciously read a book I gave him about how different people face death. I’m now struggling through a 900+ page book he recommended. Forget about Norman, I might be dead before I finish it.

When I called my mother the other day, she told me she left one of my books by Norman’s door. It is the story of my journey with cancer and is allabout faith with my favorite scripture verses quoted throughout. Even though I appreciate her enthusiasm for my work, I thought, “Oh, geez. There goes my breakfast buddy. He’s going to think I’m one of those evangelists trying to convert him!” My first reaction? “Go get it back before he finds it!” Either Norman is a speed reader or it was a slow day, because she told me he was already half way through it. Oh well. I hope my book didn’t give him the heebeegeebees (HeBGB).

I am acutely aware of what my friend refers to as the ‘HeBGB Factor.’ I’ve been a victim of it and make every effort to avoid unleashing it on others. I wrote about this phenomenon in one of my books, but based on the sales, I think it’s safe to assume many of you haven’t read that essay. I will share some of the highlights.

We’ve all experienced the HeBGB factor in various forms. Personally, I don’t have to look far. I get a good dose of it from my own family. When I first mentioned to them I was writing a devotional book, their response, “You’re joking, right?” is just one example. If I remember correctly, I think it was followed by an exchange of knowing glances, raised eyebrows and facial expressions that left little to the imagination. I don’t want Norman sharing their belief that I’d drunk the proverbial Kool-Aid.

Verbal or not, you’d recognize the symptoms of the HeBGB factor anywhere:  a rolling of the eyes or maybe just a glazed over stare, a hand gesture (no, not that one or on second thought, I’ve seen that too) that says STOP! The HeBGB factor manifests itself in countless ways, but the message remains the same, “Ixnay on the preaching.”

As far as I’m concerned, there is nothing more offensive than an in-your-face Christian. And if you’re putting someone off, believe me, the possibility of drawing them back is extremely remote. In fact, they will devise ways to avoid you in the future if possible. Have you noticed people changing direction when they see you coming lately? My 35-year hiatus from Christianity illustrates my case perfectly.  Attending Catholic school and having the catechism shoved down my throat by some pretty scary nuns probably did more to contribute to my flight from Christianity than any other factor. 

Yes, Christ calls us to be ambassadors of His light in the world, but some people take this instruction a little too far. What comes to mind when you hear the word discipling? Jehovah Witnesses ringing your doorbell, street corner preachers, Jim and Tammy Faye, or is it a billboard sized picture of your face that some people see? Discipleship is a very real ministry in which we are called to participate. Still, we don’t all need to be Billy Grahams. Discipling doesn’t have to be a shout; sometimes a whisper is just as effective – especially at the breakfast table!

Positive modeling NOT necessarily words is how we’re supposed to witness for Christ. If you want to stick with the Light theme, we need to ‘lighten’ up in more ways than one. There’s nothing worse than an overbearing Christian! All we are asked to do is what we can, when we can, where we can, with whatever gifts God has given us; AND we don’t need to make those around us crazy in the process. In his book, Everybody’s Normal Till You Get to Know Them, John Ortberg remarks, “People who don’t take themselves too seriously give a great gift to those around them. In contrast, joy-challenged people face a serious handicap in trying to live in community.” I think we as Christians do others a great disservice when we take ourselves too seriously. Peace and joy is what we want to radiate because it is infectious. It attracts people because they’ll want the same thing. Do you remember the famous diner scene in When Harry Met Sally?  (weren’t they having breakfast too?) Without asking any questions, the woman at the next table says, “I’ll take whatever she’s having.”  Why?  Because she wants to experience the same, uh, joy! We need to shine first. There’s plenty of time for explanations later.

I choose to meet people where they are whether it’s at the playground or at the breakfast table. I choose to develop relationships because that’s really what Christianity is all about – our relationship with Christ bubbling over into the relationships we have with those around us. Finally, as Norman is now painfully aware, as a Christian I am instructed to “be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.” (1 Peter 3:15)  I hope Norman recognizes this as my goal when he’s reading my book just as I hope you do when you’re reading my blog. I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating. When I choose to share accounts of how God works in my life, it isn’t for the purpose of converting anyone. It is simply to reveal a facet of the Divine others may not have had the opportunity to see before thereby expressing 'the reason for the hope that I have.' Every reader chooses their own response – or not.

Discipling is a very personal thing, just as Christianity is meant to be. How, where, when and with whom you choose to do it is up to you. There is no minimum hourly requirement, no secret language and no manual to follow. There is no God Squad patrolling to enforce discipling rules from some prescribed handbook. If you’re at a loss for words, maybe you’re not supposed to be using any. Personally, I choose to rely on the Holy Spirit to guide me with wisdom, gentleness and love so that I, in turn, can do the same for others with none of the HeBGB factor in tow.

The Great Physician

by Joanie Butman

Fall is when I do my annual physical maintenance: checkups, mammogram, dentist, eye doctor, etc. It’s easier to keep everyone on the same schedule, confined to a brief period of time. Sadly, the older I get, the more maintenance I need, and the longer it takes. Don’t you wish there was a one-stop approach where you could just schedule a tune-up like with your car? “Hi, I’d like to schedule my 100,000 mile service appointment.” Unfortunately, you don’t get to upgrade to a new model when your body stops performing at peak performance or starts sagging from overuse.

The appointment at Sloane I discussed last week was just the first of a number of healthcare visits. Something new was added into the rotation this year.  A friend recommended including a spiritual ‘cleanse’ to my list. That’s not what she called it, but it certainly describes the inner healing service I experienced. It may sound crass, but it was what I refer to as a ‘spiritual colonoscopy.’

Thankfully, a traditional colonoscopy is only needed every ten years because it’s going to take that long for the anesthesiologist from my last one to forget me. I’m beginning to see a pattern here. I don’t seem to have a good track record with doctors. First of all, as they were ready to put me under, I turned to everyone in the room and pleaded, “Please, no jokes about my last name while you’re working.” After the procedure, the anesthesiologist came in to wake me up. I awoke to him tapping my face softly saying, “Joan, it’s over. You can wake up now.” I have no defense for my response other than I must have been giddy from the drugs. I giggled and said, “Oh, that’s what my husband says after we have sex!” He ran out with me calling after him, “Wait. It was just a joke.” No one appreciates my humor.

At any rate, despite many entreaties over the years from well-meaning friends to attend a variety of healing services to address the ‘tribble,’ I’ve never felt so inclined. Honestly, it kind of weirded me out. As I mentioned recently, I’m a ‘no touch’ kind of gal. Plus, I’ve always felt if God wanted to heal me, He could and would accomplish His will whether I was in a healing service, in quiet prayer, or in a hospital bed. Just because a healing occurs within the medical realm doesn’t make it any less of a miracle. You can ask any doctor who has witnessed occasions when patients have survived against all medical certainties with no scientific explanation.

While the new targeted drug therapy I mentioned last week may treat my cancer, I’ve always been more concerned with the condition of my soul than of my body. Eventually, I will have no need for this creaky, old body, but my soul is going to be around a lo-o-n-n-g-g-g time. It would behoove me to make sure it is in peak condition. My surgeon is a talented man, but he couldn’t heal my heart issues anymore than he could ‘cure’ my cancer. For that, I had to consult the Great Physician.

I can’t tell you why I waited so long to schedule a much-needed appointment to mend my world-weary soul. Perhaps it is as Dr. Henry Cloud suggests that “only when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change” will you take the necessary steps to address the issues needing adjustment. The cancer wasn’t what was eating away at me, my ‘issues’ were. “What issues?” you might ask. How about making inappropriate comments to medical professionals? Let’s face it, we all have issues. If you don’t think you do, then you’ve just discovered one of yours. I stole that line from one of my books, The Issue Room. Believe me, anyone who writes a book with that title does so from a deep reservoir of her own issues.

When you first consult any doctor you begin by explaining your symptoms, then listen for his advice to determine the proper course of treatment. A spiritual colonoscopy is no different. You pour out your heart to Him, then sit, rest, and wait for His response. It’s much more involved than that; but like any God moment, I don’t believe it’s meant to be explained but experienced.What I can tell you is that the process produced an inner peace that flowed through me, cleansing my soul more thoroughly than a 10-oz bottle of magnesium citrate does your colon. How else can you describe the process of a divine presence reaching into the deepest, darkest depths of your soul to expose and extract bitter roots which were cleverly disguising themselves in a variety of symptoms subtly sabotaging any effort towards change?

God’s surgical skill in removing years of regrets, resentments, bitterness, anger, pride, selfishness and overwhelming guilt was swift and thorough. Intuitively, I knew the removal of these malignancies was more vital to my future than any tumor because their continued growth was choking out my ability to see or fulfill God’s purpose for me. Cancer and I can coexist, but the continuous tape playing in my mind had to go, whether I live five years or thirty-five years. The length of one’s life isn’t as important as how you choose to live it. I was tired of being tethered to the past and lugging around more baggage than I realized.

Suddenly, I felt ten pounds lighter. I didn’t realize the heft of the issues I kept recycling. It wasn’t a matter of forgiveness on God’s part. I had that long ago. It was forgiving myself. It was as if God’s hand pressed the stop button on the incessant self-flagellation tape that has haunted me all my life. He not only stopped the tape; He rewound it so that I could record over all those false accusations I had been using to flog myself. Now it is a daily exercise to choose to create a new tape of affirmation not degradation, of choosing to see myself through His eyes and listening to His words to remind myself that I am meant to be a light in the world empowered by choice. So, today I choose “to live with gratitude for the love that fills my heart, the peace that rests within my spirit, and the voice of hope that says…all things are possible.”

How are you going to choose to live today?

Miracle Moments

by Joanie Butman

Do you believe in miracles? I do as I witness them everyday. Just this week my 19-yr-old daughter called me from college for advice – THAT is a miracle, and I’m not being facetious. I just had to smile and offer up my thanks for an obvious answer to an on-going prayer since my cancer diagnosis five years ago: “Please just let me live long enough to get my children settled in college and for them to realize: 

• I’m not as stupid as they originally thought
• I’m not an embarrassment (that might be a stretch)
• I’m not the enemy

The first part of that prayer He answered as my son will be graduating high school this year. The cancer may not have killed me, but going through the college application process with a 17-yr-old boy nearly did! The latter items may take another ten years, but I saw a glimmer of hope in my heartfelt conversations with my daughter this week.

I think the reason most people don’t believe in miracles is because they don’t recognize them. I’ve heard ministers preach that miracles no longer exist. Are they blind or just too jaded to see what’s right in front of them? Witnesses abound that can testify as to how God worked miracles in their lives - miracles of healing, reconciliation, restoration, redemption, transformation. Here’s a funny thing about miracles. If you don’t expect one, chances are you won’t recognize it when it arrives. Being open to the possibility of divine intervention is the key to recognizing God’s handiwork. That being said, just because you believe they exist doesn’t guarantee one will be forthcoming. No one knows the why, when or how they are divvied up. Furthermore, when the miracle is not the one you were praying for, it may only become obvious in hindsight or if someone else points it out.

The second miracle I experienced was last week at my biannual checkup at Sloane Kettering where we monitor the progress of a slow-growing recurrent liposarcoma. My pet name for it is a “tribble.” It’s so much easier to pronounce than the long scientific term. It is the offspring of two larger, more aggressive tumors I evicted five years ago and one smaller one a year later. This one is a clingy thing that refuses to leave the nest. I have a chart plotting its progression that reminds me of the doorjamb where I marked the growth of my two children. I even have a pictorial album not unlike the sonograms of my kids in utero. Given that the original tumor was the weight of a newborn, I often think of the tribble as my third child. And just like all children, it has provided blessings I never imagined and a certain amount of pain.

Back to my appointment. First off, I got the harmonica-playing conductor on the train into the city. I always seem to get him on my way to Sloane. In fact, I’ve never seen him any other time. The appointment offered no surprises as the tribble seems to be on a predictable growth pattern. Unless something changes, I am going to be around a long time. It will involve more surgery at some point, but I will die of something else long before this is allowed to become life threatening.

As I’ve mentioned before, the wait-and-see approach to my cancer (and many others) can be excruciating, but waiting on God’s timing frequently is. When I used to pepper the doctor with my irritating “How long, low long, how long?” he finally got exasperated and said, “You should know better than anyone that only God knows how long. Just go live your life!” Wise words, and ones I remind myself of frequently. By its very nature, life itself is a terminal disease. No one else knows how long either!!

Since my first diagnosis, I have never prayed for healing. In addition to the one I already mentioned, I’ve prayed for: 

• Strength, wisdom, guidance and peace
• Patience as I wait for His timing to unfold
• Opportunities to use my situation to glorify Him

This first one is the most important as the wise choice in deciding on treatment is not always black and white but can also determine your outcome. Steve Jobs didn’t have to die. By choosing not to have the initial surgery, he sealed his fate. There was no going back. If I had listened to the doctors that second time, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing.

Though the medical community has made enormous strides in the cancer world, what they don’t know still far outweighs what they do – especially with sarcomas, as drug companies have no economic incentive to fund studies to treat them because they are considered rare diseases. If you have to get cancer, this is one instance where you definitely want to be in the ‘popular’ group. True to form, even with cancer, I ended up an outlier.

Regardless, answers to my prayers came and continue to come in abundance. This week’s development is that I have finally been given the opportunity to take a more proactive role by joining a trial. This provides two things: 

• Satisfies the urge to be DOING something without having to undergo an invasive surgery, which is always an option.
• Provides the privilege and honor of being part of the creative process, and by doing so, providing hope for who knows how many.

When I wrote to my family explaining the results of the appointment, my mom responded, “We can live with the diagnoses even though it’s not the miracle I was hoping for.  We will just keep on praying.” It may not be the one she was looking for but that doesn’t make it any less of a miracle. Targeted Drug Therapy offers new hope and a new direction for cancer treatment. Not too far in the future many cancers will no longer come with a death sentence but will be considered a chronic condition such as diabetes or high blood pressure, which can be controlled simply by taking a pill. THAT is a miracle.

The other aspect is one that answers my frequently asked question, ”Why am I still here when so many other cancer patients are not?” Mark Twain once said, "The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why." It may not be why I was born.I’m still trying to figure out my purpose in life, but being part of this trial is definitely the tribble’s purpose. I’m no scientist, but from what I’ve been able to determine, this rare tumor has a genetic makeup which makes it the perfect specimen on which to experiment with these new drugs. Plus, aside from getting funding for research on something so rare, one of the roadblocks to the study is recruiting enough patients to participate in a larger trial.

I am a creative person. God knows that. As such, I feel closest to Him in the midst of any creative process, whether it be writing, designing, gardening or crafting, so it’s a perfect fit for me. What a gift He’s given me to be part of this exciting and promising trial. I don’t have the smarts to find a cure for cancer; that’s not my gift. However, I can be a willing lab rat.

Ironically, the person involved in the development of this new drug is the fellow* of the oncologist I sat across from five years ago who predicted my impending death. In fact, he was sitting next to him at the time. Won’t he be surprised when I walk into his office next week? I have to laugh and think of another of Mark Twain’s witticisms, “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” Perhaps I will greet him with that line.

There is another reason he may remember me. Following my visit with Dr. Doom, I wrote a scathing letter to him regarding his lack of compassion and his flippant attitude in meting out my death sentence. I sent a copy to his fellow, the doctor conducting the test in which I am about to participate. I ended the letter with this comment, “Despite your brilliance, if the fellow in that room learned anything, I hope it was how not to treat someone facing a life-threatening disease.” Oh yeah, I think my name might ring a bell.

That letter is a perfect example of choosing wisely and of God saving me from myself. It wouldn’t be the first time He used the Holy Spirit to intervene on my behalf. It is the only explanation I can think of as I know the way my brain works. Not that I’ve ever needed an excuse to speak my mind; but if I didn’t think I had long to live, you can bet I would have used that as a license to let loose on that arrogant, condescending oncologist (not the word that comes to mind whenever I think of him, but I'm trying to choose my words wisely). At any rate, I can’t explain why, but at the time I made an extremelyuncharacteristic choice to wait until I calmed down to revise the first version of the letter, tone it down, remove all the expletives and confirm I did not employ any ‘christianese.’ For those of you who have never been privy to this particular form of aggression, it is an extremely ‘unholy’ method of passing along gossip or couching an insult as a prayer offered up on someone’s behalf: “Dear God, please help Dr. Doom stop being such a pompous ass.” I hadn’t, but I did end the letter with an offer to pray for him. Surprisingly, it was sincere and heartfelt. "Since you already have the wisdom, I will pray that you be renewed with patience and compassion for your patients." Thank goodness for divine intervention, as I will now be putting myself in the hands of one of the recipients of that letter.

When I was researching the trial and read the name of the doctor, I knew it would behoove me to go into the file and review what I wrote before my meeting with him. It was firm but much gentler and more mature than my standard tirades. Honestly, it didn't sound like me at all - probably because it wasn't. Thank you, God.

As I have often mentioned, it’s nothing short of a miracle I survived my youth – never mind the cancer. Regardless of what anyone claims, I am living proof that miracles still abound in life. If there is one thing I know, it’s that "What you cannot see in the world is far more powerful than anything you can see." T. Harv Eker  To whom or what you attribute that power is a choice that only you can make. I think it's obvious what my choice is. What's yours?

"Trusting God completely means having faith that

He knows what is best for your life.

You expect Him to keep His promises,

help you with problems,

and do the impossible when necessary."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Rick Warren

*Fellow: a young physician who has completed training as an intern and resident and has been granted a stipend and position allowing him or her to do further study or research in a specialty.

Girls in the 'Hood

by Joanie Butman

I am writing this while waiting for the women on my street to arrive for a neighborhood luncheon to introduce a couple of new residents, welcome another returning to the fold, and to catch up with some who live on the same street but who I can go months or even years with no contact other than a passing wave.

I also had a reunion this week with the girls in my other ‘neighborhood’ as the bible study I’ve been part of for years resumed following our summer sabbatical. Wikipedia defines a sabbatical as a “period of time during which someone does not work at his or her regular job and is able to rest, travel, do research, etc.” In reality, there is no sabbatical for devotees of the bible as our lives should be a reflection of that which we study. Sadly, during the summer that is certainly not true in my case. I find when I am away from the routine and fellowship of weekly bible study, I become the most undisciplined person in every area of my life. It’s similar to when I was freed from the tyranny of Catholic school – girl gone wild!! It is exactly this kind of behavior which makes fellowship so integral to anyone’s life regardless of where you find it. Can’t we all use a group of individuals for encouragement, support and to help keep us grounded? Mine just happens to choose to employ the bible to accomplish this connection.

The first day of bible study is reminiscent of a blind date. You go through the mandatory intros, “My name is Joan, I live in New Canaan, I am married to a wonderful man and have two amazing children. This is my 16th year of Community Bible Study.” Just once I want someone to start with, “My name is Joan, I am married to a great guy who drives me crazy.  I’d like to say I have two wonderful children, but the truth is, wonderful isn’t an adjective I’d ever use in the same sentence when describing teenagers. ” Sometimes honesty is not the best policy. I don’t know about you, but I would never reveal too much about myself on a blind date – at least not if I wanted to see the guy again.

I’m not sure anyone else would admit it, but how can you not be sizing people up as you go around the room trying to imagine who will determine they aren’t coming back for a second date or maybe it will take three or four dates for them to determine they are not interested in a long-term relationship. Perhaps they will go to the ladies room and slip out quietly never to be seen again. I’ve never used this strategy on a blind date but do know people who have.

As in any new friendship, I am curious as to what will be revealed over the course of the year. After all this time, there are always a few familiar faces, but each new group brings many strangers and newcomers. Regardless, I know from experience I will be walking through whatever life throws us this year with them, and by May we will have forged bonds that won’t be quickly broken.

By yourself you’re unprotected.

With a friend you can face the worst.

Can you round up a third?

A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.

                               (Eccl 4:12 , The Message)

As we were introducing ourselves, someone commented, “I remember you. I was at a function at your house years ago. You’re the one with the bible verses on your wall.” I felt all eyes turn towards me and recognized a few looks that translated, “She’s one of those.” My first reaction was denial. That’s biblical isn’t it? I felt like Peter. Scripture on my walls? Even for me, that seemed a little over the top.

I’ve seen poetry or quotes used in decorating as a frieze but have never employed the technique, so I assumed she was mistaken. I had forgotten about the list I tacked below the family rules I posted in our kitchen a lifetime ago (or so it seems). I’m glad someone took note because I don’t think anyone in my own family ever did. It was entitled Christ’s Family Rules, and they are the basis of Christian fellowship. In fact, I’d say that even though these are bible verses, they illustrate how to live out The Golden Rule, which is the basis of all major world religions: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:31) In other words, “do unto others what you would have them do unto you.” (Matthew 7:21)

The next day while walking with a friend, she shared her own first-day awkward moment. She described how her new leader, whom she did not know, approached her for a hug – yikes. I can tell you right now my reaction would have been a simple, “I don’t kiss on the first date!” I know by May hugs will be second nature, but you have to ease into it – especially someone like me who has a firm ‘no touch’ policy. I visited a new church with my sister-in-law recently and our Catholicism became obvious when they asked everyone to reach out and touch the people next to them for the closing prayer. Catholics don’t do that. My sister-in-law did the one-finger ET touch to the man in front of her, and without thinking, I reached over and put my hand on the leg of the man to my right. I don’t know the etiquette about exactly where you’re supposed to touch someone in that situation, but it felt a little forward and judging from his reaction, so did he. Fellowship has its limits.

My husband has often asked whether I will ever ‘graduate’ from bible study. “You haven’t finished after 16 years?” “It’s a big book,” I reply, “And I’m a slow learner.” You don’t need to be part of a group to study the bible, but as I said, it keeps me disciplined. Plus, I find it more fun and more enlightening as you hear many different perspectives, and the homework forces you to think more deeply about what you read and often dig further as you consider answers. The reason I enjoy this particular bible study is because you are not allowed to discuss religion. How refreshing is that? The attendees are a cross-section of women from every walk of life offering unique insights and life experiences to enrich our study and conversations.

The importance of fellowship and community can never be underestimated, and I am reminded of its value every fall as my girls welcome me back into the hood. We were created to be in communion with one another, and its worth is magnified in times of distress. Together we raise each other up to a level we can’t achieve alone nor are we meant to. That’s why hearing the stories of others is so encouraging. The human condition hasn’t changed much since biblical times. We still struggle with the same issues. Apparently, I am not the only slow learner out there. There is immense healing power in shared suffering as well as shared praising. Isn’t that the foundation of every support group in existence?

Returning in September to Connecticut and to the CBS fellowship I enjoy during the school calendar are both a homecoming of sorts – a return to my girls in the hood on my street and in my heart. I will end with the words of a friend who opened Thursday’s session. She was discussing why she chose to come to CBS and why she continues to study the bible. She closed with this sentiment, which mirrors my own experience. “I chose to come to bible study to make friends, and what I found was my ultimate friend – Christ.”

A one-minute, light-hearted call to fellowship from a youth pastor.