Tag Archives: mental-health

On being woke

I’ve mostly blocked all those who cause me unrest or threaten me. But every once in a while I hear something like, “All my friends say you went woke.”

To me, that’s the strangest insult a professing believer can hurl at someone since “a friend of sinners”.

To be woke is to be awake. And it is the best thing that has happened to me, even though it often makes me want to rise with the roosters and scream at the new day.

I used to sleep through the abuse, the degradation, the sexual harassment, the racism, the horrors of American History –

Is it better being awake? I see the horrors. I feel deeply the hundreds of years of hopelessness degradation and pain inflicted on image-bearers of God in the cotton fields. I can’t even imagine the trauma. I can’t imagine being forced at gunpoint in the middle of the night to cross a river with your small children, watching them drown behind you with nothing you can do about it.

I can’t imagine watching drunken white men with rifles rape your wives and daughters and then kill them in front of you for fun.

And I can’t imagine whitewashing it, as if it didn’t happen. To repent means to fully acknowledge the pain you have caused and turn from it.

So yes, being awake hurts. It feels deep and cutting.

But I can’t sleep again. To be asleep to it is to be dead. To be alive and to love, and to feel brings pain, but also brings longing and hope and the eyes to look for a new day when justice rains down like water on a dusty land. How do you long for justice when you are dead?

I wish that everyone would wake up. I pray that the light of Christ would fill the soul with the same tears that fall over Jerusalem.

O, Evangelical Church in America! How often would Jesus have lifted you up in his loving arms and taught you love and mercy and grace and peace! How often would he have exchanged your nuclear weapons for joy! How often would he have torn down your walls and given you goodness and faith and love! But you would not. You exchanged it for pride and money and sex and entitlement and power. You found another way to break your own heart.

My tears are falling, but I’ll never be asleep again.

Arise, you who sleep, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light (Paul the apostle, from his letter to the Ephesians.)

4 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Zero Tolerance

When Dear Leader bemoaned domestic assault as a little fight that is bringing down his crime statistics, most of the world was appalled.

But I’ve been hearing that for decades in the church. I’ve heard the same sentiment from so many pastors and elders I’ve lost track. Here are just a few:

“He just knocked her around a little. It wasn’t real abuse.”

“He just gets frustrated sometimes and mouths off. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Sometimes she just pushes his buttons and he loses control.”

Most of you have heard all of this before.

My view hasn’t changed. I’ve been speaking against the epidemic of abuse in the church since 2012. I’ve heard so many pastors and elders tell me that they hate abuse, they are against abuse, they appreciate abuse – they’ve just never seen abuse.

One man (an elder) told me that “everyone knew that she would wear long sleeves to cover the bruises, and sometimes her eyes would be black. But what can you do? We spoke to him and he apologized. Eventually we had to excommunicate her because she wouldn’t forgive.”

So in the Reformed and Evangelical churches it isn’t that they don’t believe the women. They just don’t care.

When Donald Tr#mp won the primary in 2016, I changed my political party. It was a very difficult thing to get used to. Up until then, I thought abuse, degradation, racism, misogyny and rape were fringe and we stood a chance fighting against it.

When he won, my heart sank and all the spirit went out of me. The spirit of abuse and assault that I had been speaking out against for years became incarnate in an ugly, despicable orange ball of sleaze and won the votes of millions. Even those who had been allies and friends in standing against abuse – they turned their backs on everything they stood for, knowing full well what a troll they were putting in office.

It was as if every child rapist, and every abusive husband, and every covenant-breaking cheat, and every thief and con man became one man – and he painted himself orange and hated everyone.

And all of my friends ate it up. I’ve spent more nights awake than I care to remember.

And it didn’t stop. He stopped even pretending to be anything remotely moral in 2024 and ran on a platform of revenge and spite – and everyone still voted for him.

And now, even if he dies tomorrow, we have a far larger problem in America. The millions that knowingly drank the orange Kool-Aid are still there.

But I think that even worse than Donald being Donald is the spirit that just refuses to see it, refuses to stand up, refuses to say enough.

I don’t want war. I don’t want tanks in the cities. I don’t want violence. Becoming like the Religious Right isn’t the solution.

So how can we, who are disgusted by the whole thing, fight back in a way that is honoring to God?

And I think it is here: Zero tolerance.

We have sat too long in sermons where teenage girls are portrayed as sex object, and didn’t object. Where women are objectified. Where foreigners are mocked.

We have spent too much money on the big evangelical machine that put that same money into electing an evil, twisted human.

We have put too much money in the pockets of James Dobson and followers of Wilson. We have tolerated racial slurs, degradation of humans. We have sat quietly while members of our church talk loudly about F*gg*ts, libtards, feminazis.

We have tolerated Doug Wilson’s books in our book tables. We have filled conferences with the worst sort of people.

We allowed MacArthur and Piper to thrive while our wives and daughters shriveled and died. We gave our money to the worst sorts of humans because they pretended to have a holy calling. We were duped. No more.

We listened to our friends tell us how George Floyd and Emmitt Till should have listened to their betters. We have forgotten about Central Park, Oscarville, Tulsa, Clearlake, Trail of Tears, so many others.

We quit talking about justice for black and brown neighbors. We listen to our friends do their locker talk and pretend it is normal.

We listen quietly disapproving while our colleagues mock the disabled, mock the weak, mock the poor. We listen to the blowhard gripe about the women using SNAP to buy a birthday cake while pouring the concrete for his new summer patio.

I think enough is enough, don’t you?

Zero tolerance. Write your checks to women’s shelters instead of big ticket conference tickets. Let’s put an end to the big evangelical machine. Enough is enough and it isn’t even Christian anyway. Give your money to food banks, sexual assault advocates, domestic violence advocates – but not if they have a fish on their advertisements. Only give if they serve all humans as humans.

When your pastor objectifies his wife, or speaks of teenage girls showing shoulders, walk out. Any mention of hemlines, or clavicles, or purity rings, or tempting men…walk out. We know where it leads now. A little leaven leavens the whole lump. Purge it out.

When he talks about “leadership roles for men” get up and leave. We know where it leads now.

When he values women only because of their ability to make babies, walk out.

If you are able, bring a charge. It won’t go anywhere. Patriarchy is too enmeshed. But don’t tolerate that leaven for another second. It leavens everything.

Remember Phillies Karen? I wish we had the same energy when it came to alienating and exposing the worst men among us. The CEO at the Coldplay concert? That’s what I’m talking about. Zero tolerance.

Expose the darkness. The crude, racist jokes; the sexual innuendo; the misogynistic banter; the “boys will be boys” talk. The ridicule of the poor; the rounding up of the foreigner, the chaining of the Asians – if you are going to support that, I’m going to call you on it. I’m done.

Say out loud – Enough. You won’t talk like that around me. You won’t call your wife that around me. You won’t joke about how that black man deserved what he got around me. You won’t degrade or contemn someone’s humanity around me. You won’t involve yourself in their sexual or gender choices. You won’t use slurs in the line and the grocery store. I’m done. If you want to act like a horrible person, I’m going to call you on it. You can call me woke, SJW, or whatever you want. I’ve been called worse.

But it ends here. No more.

If you want to fight back with whatever power you have, join me. Make it really uncomfortable for people

to be horrible around you.

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

Leave a comment

Filed under Abuse, Anxiety, assault

On learning to love myself

Healing takes place when stories are told in safe places. I don’t know who said that, but I think it is time to take it seriously.

My mom passed away. Her funeral was the day after my heart attack so I couldn’t attend. I had already said goodbye and wasn’t planning on going anyway. I had already made peace with it.

I can’t carry this shame anymore and I need to speak.

Saying things in a family where saying things is never done takes a lot out of me. But I’m tired of carrying it.

Mom, I’m sad that you couldn’t love me.

I’m sad that I don’t know what a gentle hug or loving caress from a mother feels like. I’m sad that I knew your fists and your paddle more intimately than words of love. I’m sad that I knew your words of contempt or anger and never knew words of intimacy or love.

I know I was a child, and lots of parents wish they had done differently. But I wish that when I was an adult you would have loved me enough to listen. I wish that you could have loved (or at least, liked) the man I became. But I was always a little bit short of whatever made people acceptable. I never knew what that was. And even into my senior years, you carried your belief that I was weird, unacceptable, unlikeable.

I love you, but I wish you had loved me. I’m sad that I wasn’t able to be whatever you were looking for. I’m sad that I was a disappointment to you.

I’m sad of hearing all the stories from friends and relatives that were told about me and how weird I was and how I was just “funny” and not quite up to whatever standard you had for me.

I’m sad that your rejection had ripple effects that I couldn’t foresee, and couldn’t fix. I was just…different. I was just…weird….

I’m sad that your friends gave me a wide berth when I visited and treated me like something was wrong with me. But that is what you believed. I just never knew what that was.

I was just “Well, you know how Sam is…”

I’m sad that you called my mother in law before I got married and told her that my wife should rethink things because I am so weird.

I’m sad that you told me that any girl I might be interested in college couldn’t possibly be interested in me. And that I still didn’t know why. It was such a heavy burden to carry.

I’m sad that I had no one to turn to when I was a child, that the little boy that was me had to try to figure out life by himself. He did it mostly by trying to imitate those who were acceptable.

The little boy didn’t know why mom didn’t love him. He just knew that maybe if he was more like the twins or more like his older brother, she might like him more. So that’s what he tried.

And it was exhausting. I quit trying to be someone else years ago, and had to just settle for never being enough. But I never really learned how to ask for help. I just learned that family didn’t have my back.

My kids weren’t enough. My wife wasn’t enough. I’m sorry that deep down you really believed that we just made up health issues for some reason or another. And I’m really sad that you told all your friends that. And I was really tired of trying to prove to you that we were struggling with severe health issues. So I quit talking about it.

I’m sad that you believed that I wasn’t qualified to be a minister because of….something lacking, I guess.

And I’m sad that you couldn’t love me. I’m sad that you couldn’t like me. And I’m sad that you taught me not to like myself.

So here is what I’m going to start doing, and wish I had done it years ago. I am going to try to give that little boy that you taught me to hate a little love.

He wasn’t weird. He was just trying to figure things out. He was just trying to be loved, safe, and protected.

I’m going to be who I am and stop carrying those things that don’t belong to me. I’m going to try to give myself a break. I’m not going to carry shame and guilt anymore.

I’m not going to listen to that voice that tells me that if I only had more…something…then maybe I’ll be worth loving, and maybe even worth liking a little bit.

But I will still be sad about it. I wish we could have had a relationship that wasn’t based on how much I’ve disappointed you, or disappointed the family, or disappointed people I haven’t even met.

I wish I knew what unconditional love from a mom looked like.

And so I will spend my life giving and receiving love, where I didn’t have it. I will love the little boy that was me (at least try to). And I will try to learn that there are a lot of pretty good things about me.

And I’m sorry that you didn’t see me. Some people say I’m a pretty lovable guy.

And I’m saying this because I love you. But I’m also very tired of living a lie. It isn’t good for anyone.

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

6 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

On Getting Old

I don’t understand what happened. Yesterday, I was doing the Bird with Morris Day and the Time and all of the sudden I got old.

Thank you all for the birthday greetings. I truly love my birthday because of the greetings. There are some that I am like “Hey, they haven’t unfriended me yet!” and that makes me smile a little.

And then a lot of new faces. I love my new friends, my new community. I feel safe for the first time. I love my new church family. I can’t describe to you what it feels like to be safe to grow, to examine theology, to have deep thoughts without fear.

I never had that. Ridicule or anger from my father, or contempt, plotting and hatred from those who vowed to partner with me in ministry. Safety is a new feeling – psychological safety to question, to wonder, to learn and to grow.

And meeting new friends! It is so wonderful to see things from new perspectives and meet people from new backgrounds. I am beginning to understand the holy, catholic church in new ways, and it is truly liberating.

But now I get tired when I do the Bird and my joints ache.

My memories collide with my shame and all of the things I tried to use to hide behind.

I figured that if I acted a certain way, maybe then I can hide from the faces of people and try to pretend that their judgment doesn’t bother me. Maybe then my family of origin would welcome me into their circle. I got so tired of being on the outside wondering what it was like to be acceptable.

But that just dug the hole deeper and deeper

And I am so glad to be learning to be free from the shame of my existence. I won’t go back. I’m tired of hiding who I am.

I have anxiety. I am not at all sure of myself in most situations. I spend a lot of time wondering about things.

Today I wondered what would happen if I tried to play a digeridoo at my cat. My cat did not approve, but it was pretty funny.

I know, this is not appropriate behavior for a man over sixty.

Sigh.

I don’t want to be elderly. I want to listen to 21 pilots with my grandkids, smile at all the ways they want to make the world a little better. I want new legislation, I want everyone to be able to access healthcare; I want everyone in my community to be able to eat healthy food if they want to. And I want them to be able to afford cake and ice cream if they want to.

I don’t ever want to fall into the trap of saying, “Back when I was a kid, things we a ton better” – because they weren’t.

Abuse was rampant, racism wasn’t even hidden, women couldn’t buy houses or have credit cards, and if you had nothing, you starved outside.

I thank God for all of those who had the courage to say “Enough” – And I want to always have that courage. The courage to look at the world and say, “NO. I’m not happy with how we turned out. I’m not happy with our kids being addicted to drugs and violence and porn and alcohol. I’m NOT happy with turning our backs on people with disabilities. I’m not happy with unequal pay and gender bias. I am not happy when LGBTQ kids are kicked out of homes and schools and workplaces. We can do better.”

I’m old. But I’m not dead. And I’m not deceived into thinking that “we had it made back in our day.”

We are better than this. To my kids, I am so ashamed that my generation left you with this. Be better.

As for me, I still love to learn. I still love new ideas. I love listening to Taylor Swift’s new albums and don’t ever think that back in my day we had real music. Get real. We had “Abracadbra. I want to reach out and grab ya.”

Every generation had things that were horrible, and things that we good. Hold fast to the good. Throw out the horrible.

Throw out the racism, misogyny, lust for power and control. Throw out Reaganomics. It’s a bust and a lie. Throw out the garbage you inherited.

Learn to love and to laugh and to stand up to masked thugs.

Let’s have a few more years on this earth.

But seriously, thanks for the Birthday greeting.
I feel like I’ve had to put up with myself for over 60 years now, so I’m going to need some pie.

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Engaging a Muscovite

My goal is to bring peace to the soul. So I offer this suggestion for the furtherance of a quiet and peaceful spirit.

If you try to reason with a Doug Wilson supporter, it is not possible for you to succeed. The evidence of his wickedness in thought, word and deed is so ponderous at this point that the only way someone would continue to support him is if there is something drastically wrong with his (or her) soul.

If you quote something horrendous that Wilson has said, they will tell you that you are quoting it out of context.

If you accuse him of racism, bigotry, supporting white supremacists and child molesters, they will demand proof.

If you supply proof in the form of 100 quotes, publications, videos and blogs, they will accuse you of being on a witch hunt.

If you point out the volumes of proof on his plagiarism, they will throw someone else under the bus and defend their pope at all cost, even though Pope Wilson’s name is on the books. It will always be “someone else’s fault”.

If you accuse his fanboys of adultery, child rape, domestic abuse, or any other horrendous crimes, no matter what proof you have, it will always be the fault of the woman, the child or the wife.

They seduced him, they flaunted themselves at him, they wouldn’t obey him quick enough…

If you state his positions in his own words, and then quote the hundreds of churches and centuries of church history that have declared him wrong, you will get demands to provide your prooftexts.

If you disengage at this point, you will be accused of cowardice and false witness, as if you are throwing out accusations without evidence.

If you decide to engage, it will not matter how many passages you cite, they will change the definitions of words, twist your words, invent new doctrines out of cloth, misdirect and finally accuse you of hating the bible and being a liberal and “what is wrong with America”. They will take “Gaslighting” to staggering new levels.

If you say that he publicly called two women “c***s” they will accuse you of slander.

If you provide the evidence where in his own words on his own blog he called two women a couple of “c***s” they will accuse you of taking it out of context, justifying the language because of “culture wars” and say that he is a little “salty” at times but that doesn’t take away all the good that he is doing…

You will also be accused of being effeminate, against the gospel, a feminist, a communist, a troublemaker, a sower of strife. If you are a woman, you will be called a Jezebel with a Jezebel spirit.

When you have members of your congregation who support Wilson, or refuse to acknowledge his wickedness, they will eventually destroy your congregation. They always do.

I am close to sixty years old now. 30 years ago, I decided foolishly to engage a Wilson supporter. I will never do so again.

Sometimes, they trick you into thinking that you are engaging with them in an honest discussion in a Christlike way. But the point is not truth or love. The point is to suck you in and destroy your peace. They are not interested in discovering the truth. They only want to destroy you.

They speak of warfare, and they mean every word.

There is only one way to engage a Wilsonite. Click on their profile. Go to where it says, “Friends”, and select “Block.”

This will need to be repeated on all of your social media channels.

Be careful on Messenger, because they often use their wife’s profile to suck you back in.

It is always a trap.

It is for this reason that I will never, under any circumstances, join any sort of discussion group with the word “Reformed” or “Presbyterian” or “Calvinist” or “pub” in the title. Those places are their hives. It’s where the hornets live. They will sniff you out in minutes and go after you, your family, your kids, your friends.

It’s a shame, really, because there is much in Reformed theology that I still find quite edifying. But now Reformed and Presbyterian churches have a fatal flaw.

They have never used hornet spray. Yes, they have said, “Now, don’t be nasty, hornets. Now stop being that way, hornets. But they have never gotten out the spray and run them out. They have sacrificed the people of God in order to provide a hive for the hornets. And now the nests have taken over and will destroy everything they touch.

And I know that now the hornets will come out demanding proof and scripture and writings, and hours and hours of work from me, which I will decline. It has been documented far, far more than anything Dahmer did, anything Bundy did, or anything that any criminal has done. The amount of documentation is staggering. The only way to pretend to not know it is to be purposefully closing your eyes. So excuse me if I don’t engage.

Again, only one way to further peace. “Block.” “Delete”; “repeat.”

I always imagined that the False Prophet would be way cooler and far more seductive than that guy.

 

If you have been stung one too many times by the hornets and don’t think you will ever find peace, book some time with me at www.sampowellministries.com

 

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make a one-time donation

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

4 Comments

Filed under Abuse, Anxiety