warrensappcounseling journal

Mental Health and Politics -- irreconcilable?

2011-02-04T13:06:00.000-08:00

We would all do well to remember that there are millions and millions of dollars to be made by keeping all of us Americans all hissied up about politics. Some are daily encouraged to remain hysterical about our President or Nancy Pelosi. Some are daily encouraged to remain hysterical about Sarah Palin, John Boehner or whoever. They want our attention, our time, our money and especially, big ratings for their advertisers for their shows. But don't kid yourself; we pay a high price for that.

We would do well to remember that Paranoia is a highly communicable illness, and it is hardly exclusive to Schizophrenics. Hysterical mass paranoia is no respecter of party affiliation. It works both sides of the aisle.

And they're playing us. Playing us big time. All of us on both sides of those lines they draw for us. It's always good to know: 1) That you're being played; 2) Who's playing you; 3) How they're playing you 4) What the payoff is. Before you take back America, or whatever, you might want to think a while about taking back YOU. Stay close to YOUR center. Stay close to Jesus.

Quote from Wendell Berry

2010-06-17T14:20:00.000-07:00

"It may be the most significant irony in our history that racism, by dividing the two races, has made them not separate but in a fundamental way inseparable, not independent but dependent on each other, incomplete without each other, each needing desperately to understand and make use of the experience of the other. After so much time together we are one body, and the division between us is the disease of one body, not of two."
Wendell Berry
This comment by one of my "favs" touches me deeply. The only issue I would take with it is while Wendell sees two races divided/connected, there are many more... I believe his comment also applies remarkably well to the relationships of men and women as well.

Not exactly Cajun, but.....

2009-07-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

Becoming Cajun-ized, an ongoing theme of this blog, is a lifelong process which continues regardless of location and has varying pace depending on a multitude of factors.

I realized long ago that many things labeled "Cajun" -- aren't. An integral element of Cajunization is the development of faculties of discrimination necessary for separating the real from fake.

Several years ago, Chef Paul Prudhomme, whose true Cajun-ness is a matter of debate among some, achieved a stroke of culinary genius in his creation of "Blackened Redfish." Since Chef Paul hails from New Orleans, which is not really Cajun Country, but is nevertheless a place of considerable artistic creativity, whether Blackened Redfish is really Cajun or Creole is not really the issue; I love the stuff.

So it's been on my existential agenda for quite some time to learn to blacken Redfish myself. Tonight, with Betty's help, I brushed aside all timidity, hooked up the new outdoor burner, got out the essential cast iron skillet and went at it. I got burned. A little. But I also cooked up some FINE Redfish fillets. Voila! Tres bon! A very good beginning.

Knowing how to cook game, seafood included, is an essential component of Cajun manhood. I'd despaired on that point -- that I'd never really get that part of it. But in spite of me I'm learning that, too. I now have two ways of cooking fish, me.

Peace, W

A little part of the way.....

2009-01-20T12:43:00.000-08:00

I rose a little earlier this morning. Lit a candle in prayer. I sat at my computer and played, "This Land is Your Land," "We Shall Overcome," and "Lift Every Voice and Sing," from my itunes collection. I said some more prayers, of gratitude and for protection for our new president.

Then I folded some laundry and took it to the bedroom.

Then I/we turned on the TV and watched the goings on. I/we joined with millions of Americans and billions of world citizens as we celebrated democracy.

As the journalists queried many, they proclaimed Dr. King's Dream fulfilled. Nope. Not even close. Not even close.

Dr. King's dream was only a little tiny bit about getting a solitary, brilliant African-American elected to the presidency. His dream was about America -- then the world -- embracing the Way -- nonviolence -- the Way of Gandhi and of Christ. Electing a brilliant African-American president is the easy part. Nothing to it -- compared.... Nonviolence -- for me, for you, for all of us -- that's the hard part.

We've come a long way. And I'm truly joyful about this wonderful day.

But we've hardly started. Jesus. This Jesus is so radical, so subversive, we can hardly imagine it. I've a long, long way to go. We've a long, long way to go. A long way before The Dream is fulfilled.

Shalom,
Warren

Our Little Warriors

2009-01-19T13:03:00.000-08:00

I said to Betty, "It kind of weirds me out to think I'd spend good money to watch two little boys having a fight." She said, "Well yes. I'd be trying to get them to stop!" I was on my way to the Cliff Keen Tulsa Nationals -- (one of?) the biggest youth wrestling tournaments in the country. 2,400 (that's right) boys from ages 6 through 15 were entered. They came from Pennsylvania, Indiana, Ohio, Texas, Nebraska, Missouri, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Oklahoma, New Mexico and many other locations.

As I watched the combatants battle it out for a place on the podium, I observed a common phenomenon for those who lost: they did what comes normally and naturally in defeat: THEY CRIED. They'd given it their all, and it wasn't good enough. So THEY CRIED. And I was able to observe another, related, very interesting phenomenon: with the exception of a brief hug or pat on the shoulder, their coaches, their opponents, their parents pretty much ignored it; allowed it to happen. No child was shamed or scolded or admonished for their tears. Let them cry. No one was picked up and cuddled or soothed or offered sympathy. Just let them cry. Losing hurts.

But soon the tears were over, the child had pretty much soothed himself, and he went on with business.

Sometimes the winners cried, too. Sport can be stressful.

We see editorials about our youth being passive, lazy and out of shape. Not these kids. We see articles about our youth being coddled. Not these kids. We see some "helicopter parents" protecting their offspring from all emotional and physical risk. Let 'em take up wrestling.

I have an idea that when the time comes these young men will be adequately prepared and goal-directed for life's inevitable challenges.

Peace,
Warren

Born again....and again.....and again

2009-01-15T14:43:00.000-08:00

Many years ago, I don't even remember exactly when, on a cold, snowy January weekend like today, I made a spiritual retreat to Abbey Gethsemani, the Trappist monastery near Bardstown, Kentucky. I will spare you some of the lengthy details of the event, but I had a profound mystical experience during the retreat; in the language of some, I was "born again" -- again. Part of the provocation of that mystical experience was some statuary in the woods -- statues of the disciples, asleep at the edge of the Garden of Gethsemani, and of Jesus in his agony and torment, at the center of the Garden.

A part of what made the event so meaningful was the dedication of the statuary -- in memory of James Chaney, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman, the 3 civil rights workers who were slain in Mississippi while they were engaged in voter registration. They laid down their lives for freedom -- not their own, but for oppressed people they didn't even know.

As we approach an historic, pivotal moment in our history next Tuesday, many have remarked how they never believed they would live to see the day. And we remember many of those who did not live long enough to see this come to pass: Dr. King, Medgar Evers, Rosa Parks and many others. This week, I am remembering James Chaney, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman.

Yes YOU did. Yes WE did. Well done, good and faithful servants. Rest in peace.

Shalom,
Warren

2008-12-11T12:55:00.000-08:00

I ate too much at lunch -- again
Now I've gone and read too much poetry -- again
Gorged myself on delicious beef and words

But my 3:00 is coming any minute.
I'll ingest the thoughts of her mind, the longings of her heart,
a better excess, maybe the best of all.

To listen someone to wholeness
A treat, a joy above the others,
maybe the best of all.

perfect

2008-12-09T13:02:00.000-08:00

It was the perfect day for it: Cold, overcast, windy, rainy, wintry; the kind of day when sensible people stay inside. So it was also the perfect day for a run in the car to a quiet little cafe in a quiet little town in Kansas, where two old friends found a table by the window overlooking the barren garden and talked heart to heart -- of spirit life, elections bringing hope, family, church and opportunities to serve. Bodies and souls were nurtured by this good food and good friendship. Jesus said he would be with us in the breaking of bread. And he was.

Of course we've all but ruined the wonderful richness of the event by making it a restricted commodity to be passed out only to the deserving, only in special circumstances, only by the feeble-minded old men.

But my friend and I know better. He was with us, as he is with all of us, when bread is broken in the spirit of faith, hope and love.

Everything is Different/Everything is the same

2008-11-10T09:10:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, Nov 5:
The young man behind the counter at the tool store had a different complexion from mine. I wanted to say to him, "Isn't it wonderful!?" But I didn't. In a very businesslike and polite way, he served me, rang up my purchase and we were on our ways. Nothing is different. He still has to show up for work -- on time, etc. I still have to do the same. We have business to conduct and lives to live.

Yet from 11/5/08, everything is different. Nothing will ever be the same. People around the world are clamoring for Barack Obama to change this, change that. We are giddy with victory, and everything is different.

He will surely disappoint us. He is not the Messiah. He's said so repeatedly: this is not about HIM, it's about US. Not Yes HE can. It's YES WE CAN. And YES WE DID.

And he will surely disappoint THEM: neither is he the antichrist. Few of the dire predictions will come true -- except we will be more tolerant and inclusive to those unlike "us," and more respectful of our mother, the earth.

We are still racist, homophobic, spoiled rotten, wasteful of resources, self-indulgent, lazy. He cannot save us from ourselves. It's about US. Yes, we can. And yes, we'll have to.

When the eager student asked the wise master, "What did you do before you became enlightened?" he replied, "Chop wood, carry water." When the student then questioned, "What did you do after your enlightenment?" the master said, "Chop wood, carry water."

Everything is different now. Everything is the same.

Amen. Aho! Ashe, ashe!

Peace, Warren

update

2008-09-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

with my previous post, I was worrying myself sick -- and noting the presence of the divine in human form -- again -- in reference to Hurricane Gustav. My friends down da bayou have checked in, one by one, to tell me the mostly good news. Eventually ALL of them did evacuate. As they have returned, they've all found damage, sure, but a lot less of it than anticipated. My friend _______________, a man of prayer who would not ask of God that they be spared at the expense of others, and many others, have nonetheless been spared the worst. Resilient, all, they will clean up and fix up and go on. They, and I, are grateful.

The litter, everywhere after a hurricane, horribly ugly, will be cleaned up.

Peace, Warren

saints among us

2008-08-29T11:16:00.000-07:00

I called my friend down da bayou in lower Terrebonne parish, to see how they're doing re Hurricane Gustav. It looks like Terrebonne parish is dead center in the crosshairs of the storm.

"We're ok," he said. "We're making preparations and will evacuate in a day or two. If it's a category 3 it will do a lot of damage. It might destroy the house. And there'll be a lot of water in Houma. But the worst thing would be if it turns left and runs all the way down the coast. Then it would take everything for miles and miles. I'm not going to pray that it goes somewhere else. I wouldn't ask that it happen to someone else."

By this point, I'm crying. This great spirit, facing a terrible storm that might destroy his home, his village, his way of life, the whole city of Houma, will pray but will not ask to be spared -- at someone else's expense.

In another call, my friend "Elsie" said, "If I don't make it, I'll see you on the other side." As matter of fact as one can get.

There is a nobility, a courage and beauty of spirit among these simple, good people that humbles us all, that puts it all in perspective, that displays for all who wish to notice a wealth of the heart that few of us will know. Or maybe it's there in at least some of us, but rarely displayed -- which is as it should be.

But I, for one, know I have a long, long ways to go. And I know I've stood on holy ground in their presence.

Peace, Warren

The Gospel is Everywhere

2008-08-13T14:45:00.000-07:00

Sr. Corita Kent said years ago that the essence of the spiritual life is not to go looking for extraordinary events, but to learn to see the ordinary in an extraordinary way. The Buddha said, "I am awake!" Thich Nhat Hanh teaches "Mindfulness." One of the openings of consciousness is the arts, which invite us to wake up and "see" in new ways. One of these provocative media is film.

I've said to many that the movie "Big Fish" is the best movie about the Bible ever. This week I went to see Wall-E. It's a delightful action adventure/love story/comedy appropriate to children of all ages; a mix of 2001 Space Odyssey, Star Wars, An Inconvenient Truth, and tender robot love all stirred together.

If you're interested in the spiritual life, make sure you see both.

Yes We Can

Warren

Picher R.I.P.

2008-05-12T18:55:00.000-07:00

Some of you may be wondering -- Picher, OK is about an hour east of us, in Bartlesville. We drive through there every time we would go to Springfield/Ozark Mo to visit my mom and aunt. It was a raggedy old place, neglected and badly polluted (superfund site) from the lead mining there.

Based on my Louisiana and other experiences, I've been working, working, working to get churches better prepared for disaster response work. Mostly my audiences just stare at me with all the comprehension and excitement of Holsteins. Right now I want to grab somebody by the tie and shout, "Didn't I tell you!?"

Hurricanes, cyclones, tornadoes, earthquakes, floods aren't preventable. The damage and loss of life that they do often is. Please plan ahead.

'Easy, Warren. Just go back to your room and we'll order some medicine...'

Holy Moments

2008-05-06T14:15:00.000-07:00

She stood at the curb of the busiest 4-lane street in Bartlesville, with her baby in a stroller in front of her. The nearest traffic signal was at least a block away. I was turning into the street from a not-too-distant driveway. I have no idea how long she'd been standing there. A driver stopped his pickup in the curb lane in front of her. No one behind him got on their horn. They honored his action. Before long, another car stopped in the right center lane. The young mother dashed across the two lanes, to the narrow space in the middle.

A space opened in the traffic and I entered the traffic and went my way. I was unable to see behind me whether traffic stopped behind me to allow her to continue across.

I was also unable to jump out of my car to ask the religious or ethnic affiliation of the courteous drivers -- but I did note that the pickup driver who started it had black, straight hair, dark eyes and olive skin. In the eyes of many living here, such an act of kindness and consideration would be labeled "Christian," with the incredible blindness that says, Native Americans, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, secular humanists or pagans would never engage in such, as though kindness were exclusive to Christians.

Whoever -- the radiance of Christ shows through such acts, they are indeed tiny holy moments -- in America, anywhere, by anyone....

For those drivers, and for the universal love and kindness that prompted them, we bless them. O Lord....

...And for the safety of the young mother and her child, we pray, O Lord...

...and for us who are blind to the presence of Diving Compassion in all humanity, O Lord....

Peace, w

we are the leaders we've been waiting for...

2008-05-05T13:11:00.000-07:00

When they hear that I am clergy, people often ask of me my religious affiliation. I often tell them, "Bapholic." No one denomination meets my various needs (where is the Baptist contemplative/monastic tradition?), and I'm certainly not about to affiliate with a church by, for and about feeble-minded old men soaked in patriarchy. So I give myself (and you, if you need it) the freedom to pick and choose.

I'd mentioned a couple of blogs ago that I'd write from time to time about how I nurture my faith. One of the emails to which I subscribe comes to me through "National Catholic Reporter" online. The title is "El Rio Debajo El Rio" -- The River Beneath the River -- and the author is Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, PhD. Ms. Estes is a teller of stories, a keeper of the wisdom, a healer.

Her stories weave together the earthy with the mysterious, the prophetic ethical with the comic and the hysteric.

Find her work; you may be glad you did.... She has a quote (I believe) from her most recent blog: "We are the leaders we've been waiting for." See what I mean about "Bapholic?"

Pax, warren

When the teacher cannot learn....

2008-04-29T18:54:00.001-07:00

Rev Wright continues to rant in his oppositional, pugnacious, paranoid style. The media love it and go ga-ga over it, encouraging him to continue. Pundits get silly and blame all this on Obama, poor guy, who has to denounce it. Hillary and Bill stand aside and smile, as do all the Neo-Cons.

But some of us old, white men do get it. And a lot of post-moderns do get it. Rev. Wright's ego is all bound up in the old victim/perpetrator dyad -- he's hugely invested in that (as are countless counterfeit feminists and other "victims."), and he's not about to give it up. He's fighting fiercely for the old us-vs-them ego structures. Too much invested to let go of that now....

Obama keeps trying to lead us to a new paradigm, beyond victim/perpetrator, us-them, right/wrong oppositions. Blacks, Jews and women, especially, can continue to play the victim game for another several thousand years if they want. But if anybody wants to listen, we all know where that's going to get them -- and all of us. Obama wants to unify us beyond these oppositions.

But the old teacher is not yet ready to learn from his student. Sad. And tragic. It's time.

"Except as you become as little children...."

Peace, warren

When Jesus was a boy -- how a pastoral counselor reads the Bible

2008-04-07T15:36:00.000-07:00

When Jesus was a Boy

When Jesus was a boy, his life was very hard. He and his parents were refugees. Because they were foreigners, and his parents didn’t know the language very well (they had Egyptian as the official language legislation), his father had to take whatever odd jobs he could get; mostly as a gardener or as a farmworker, even though he was a skilled tradesman. His mom worked as a domestic and took in laundry. Some Egyptians hated them because they were foreigners. They said they came in and undermined the economy and put a burden on all the social services. They made fun of them and Jesus had to watch where he went because the local kids would beat him up.
Later, when they moved back to Palestine, life was better economically, but it was still hard. There were very few boys Jesus’ age to play with, because most of them had been killed. Some parents resented Joseph and Mary because they had a son. The only boys were half-breed shepherds, and they were mostly at work. Sometimes Jesus would go out into the hills and hang out with them, but Jesus also played with girls a lot.
Some of the local kids had heard their parents (mostly their moms) talk about how Jesus was illegitimate, so they made fun of him for that, too. You’d think people would just let that drop, but some don’t; they never forget. And they don’t let you forget, either.

©Warren Sapp
Revised 3/30/08

To nurture your spirit...

2008-04-02T07:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes people ask how I nurture my spirit -- or what resources are available for spiritual nurture outside the routines and programs of local parishes. I have a number of resources I stay in touch with daily online... Here are some suggestions for you to check out...
l. For scripture: check the daily lectionary readings for a Psalm, a Hebrew Scripture and a Gospel Reading each day, plus a possible New Testament reading. It works much better for me than trying to read the Bible straight through, and it puts you in touch with the millions of people within the liturgical traditions who are reflecting on the same passages today. Google: daily lectionary readings.
2 I also receive a daily email from Geranium Farm. Check www.geraniumfarm.org Barbara Crafton is a wonderful, wise Episcopal Priest who grounds spirituality in touching, down-to-earth ways. Check it out.

I'll share additional resources in future blogs...

Stay awake, Warren

Good old Mike

2008-03-31T13:36:00.000-07:00

This quote from Mike Huckabee deserves to be spread about...

As easy as it is for those of us who are white to look back and say, "That's a terrible statement," I grew up in a very segregated South, and I think that you have to cut some slack. And I'm going to be probably the only conservative in America who's going to say something like this, but I'm just telling you: We've got to cut some slack to people who grew up being called names, being told, "You have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie. You have to go to the back door to go into the restaurant. And you can't sit out there with everyone else. There's a separate waiting room in the doctor's office. Here's where you sit on the bus." And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and resentment. And you have to just say, I probably would too. I probably would too. In fact, I may have had ... more of a chip on my shoulder had it been me.
- Mike Huckabee, offering his perspective on the preaching of Rev. Jeremiah Wright. (Source: MSNBC)

Now I want to see the creeps on FoxPropoganda and the other commercial media obsess over that, and play it again and again, for hours on end...

Peace, Warren

Prayer?

2008-03-31T13:30:00.000-07:00

Now that Lent is over, it's a good time to talk about prayer (everybody talks about prayer during Lent). Now, everyone is talking about The Final Four or the start of baseball season, so I'll talk about prayer. We often understand prayer as telling God things He ought to know, pay more attention to or do. But prayer is just as much a listening to God. So here is a prayer I read just a little while ago which is God's prayer to us:

"Please, just start anywhere."

Amen

What we don't talk about....

2008-03-21T08:46:00.000-07:00

As a counselor, I'm trained to listen to what a family/couple/individual talks about; but I'm also listening to what they're NOT talking about. There is often a lot of important information in the latter.
We're in an ordeal of an extended presidential campaign and there are three things we're generally not talking about. We're not talking because they're the three biggest issues our country is facing and we have no answers. We simply have no answers.

Those issues are:
1 What to do with our appetite for drugs. Drugs are killing us.
2 What to do with our sexuality -- the crisis in masculinity and femininity, durable couples' relationships, workplace relationships, homosexuality, abortion, fidelity, pornography, tolerance, what to do with strong women leaders, incest and molestation, feminism -- the whole spectrum. Our sexism and sexual confusion is killing us.
3 Race. The legacy of our slavery, our imperialism toward Indians, our abuse and manipulation of poor whites and its ugly aftermath continues to this day -- not just in the South but everywhere in this country. A powerful spiritual lesson for anyone interested in learning about the enduring, violent consequences of trying to build wealth at the expense of others. This includes our pathetic and deplorable treatment of Hispanics. Our racial tensions are killing us.

We have no answers. We have jingoistic, silly slogans and simplistic, bigoted outbursts. But we have no answers. We tried, "Just Say No." Cheap and simple, it didn't work. We tried, "Christ is the answer." We've tried all manner of psychological fixes. None have shown good results.

The economy? No big deal. It will fix itself. Iraq? We'll muddle our way out somehow. Health care? Some structure will work a little better.

The ill-chosen outbursts of Barack Obama's former pastor forced Mr. Obama to address the issue of race head-on. So he did. It was an outstanding speech; thoughtful, understanding, fair and courageous. We need that. We need more of it. If Jeremiah Wright triggered that, then so be it. Again and again, we're hearing people say of Barack, "He spoke to us as an adult to adults." Remarkable. Unheard of in presidential politics. I hope you will find Barack Obama's speech on the internet and listen attentively, or find the entire text and read it carefully.

I'm not looking for a president who has all the answers. I don't trust anyone who claims to have all the answers. I'm not looking for a president who says, "I, I, I." I'm looking for a president who knows how to say, "We." "Yes we can." And who listens. I'm looking for a president who acts like an adult, who treats us like adults. A president who will gather us together and hold us together while we work our way together in this clumsy democracy toward answers that none of us, no group of us, alone, can yet imagine or express. I'm looking for a president who holds out hope; hope that we can and will move forward on these issues together.

To begin, we have to hear, then talk about what we're not talking about. The hard stuff. The impossible issues. Find the speech. Read or listen to the speech. Think about it. "Yes we can."

Peace, Warren

what men are like

2008-03-20T13:16:00.000-07:00

It so happens that yesterday (Wednesday) and a week from yesterday (wednesday) are the days when the most vasectomies are scheduled of any day(s) of the year. The reason? March Madness, the NCAA Basketball Tournament, begins the next day. (well of course!!) An NPR segment featured a particular vasectomy clinic (in Portland, I believe) which adds staff and extends hours on these days to accomodate the increased demand. What better way to spend the next 4 days, waiting for the swelling to go down? The particular V-Clinic of the interview issues each patient an "aftercare kit" consisting of a TV schedule, a bracket, and a bag of frozen peas -- to be placed you-know-where. Turns out a bag of frozen peas is an ideal tool to reduce post-op swelling of those tender parts. So for you guys sitting at home today, watching first round action, with your peas you-know-where, enjoy the games. Remember: if some kid from your team throws in a 40-foot buzzer beater to win by one, don't spill your peas. For those of us who tragically went through this rite of passage prior to this notable advance of science, wasting some other weekend, or enduring that dreaded swelling because we were macho and didn't listen, hey, it's the price we pay.

Now aren't you glad we have National Public Radio? You'll never find this on Good Morning America....

Peas, bro

Magic bowl

2008-03-17T08:49:00.000-07:00

The little boy appeared in my office door, motionless but very active -- taking in everything with his eyes. So I did what any civilized person would do: "Won't you come in?" He did, shyly, like Bambi stepping into an unexplored woodland glade. "What's your name?" "Hunter." "Oh. Do you hunt things?" "No." "Well, I like the sound of your name." Hunter's gaze fell to the ancient Tibetan singing bowl on my desk: "What's in there?" "Sounds! This bowl has wonderful sounds in it." I picked up the striker and rubbed the rim with the leather striker. That wonderful, low pitched moaning ring came forth, calling us to mindfulness. "See?" Hunter's eyes grew even wider with expanded wonder. He took it in for a moment, then dashed next door to his mother's office: "Mama, this man did wonderful magic, with this bowl that has sounds in it!"
"Except as you become as little children..."
Peace, w

one never knows...

2008-02-20T20:06:00.000-08:00

One of the most recent and exciting interfaces of science and philosophy is "Chaos Theory." One of the most interesting tenets of chaos theory is how tiny inputs may have huge effects downstream. Early in my career Betty and I were involved in youth ministry. Thirty years later some of those youth have gotten the idea of holding a reunion. It has been very heartwarming to see how many of those rambunctious youth have turned out -- wonderful, life-filled adults. Betty and I were not trying to make them into "good" people or churchy people. Instead, our purpose and joy was simply to love and accept them as they were, and welcome them to become whatever the Holy Spirit had in mind for them. The remarkable fondness these adults have for each other and for that time in their lives bears strong testimony for the power and influence of committed youth ministry -- and the power of accepting love. Our inputs were small. Big results downstream are gratifyingly evident. I remember Mother Teresa's testimony: her responsibility was faithfulness -- the outcome is up to God. One never knows...
Peace, Warren

Ah, the new year

2008-01-08T10:05:00.000-08:00

I don't make New Year's Resolutions -- mostly. Look how I earn my living. I'm all too familiar with the frailty of our egos' resolve to accomplish very much. We're all of us stories of one failure of good intentions after another.

But I did make one....and it's broken already. See? A careless day and the bank account went overdrawn and I've wasted precious money on an overdraft charge. I hate that! So, humbled and angry I will gather up myself and resolve not to do it TWICE in '08. How's that...?

And rather than make resolutions -- I do have some intentions. I've begun reading the Tao Te Ching for this year's meditations. This may not be very difficult; the words fall lightly on my mind like gentle snowflakes, rest a while and dissolve into me.

And, to offer you a smile, a haiku:

New Year's Day--
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.

Kobayashi Issa

Peace

Christmas peace

2007-12-23T08:29:00.000-08:00

Given how I earn my living, I cannot help but be aware of the deep ambiguity of Christmas. It is indeed a time of goodwill, joy and peace. It is also a time of terrible sorrow and loneliness. Many of my clients are grieving at this time of year. Some are recovering addicts, and the old habits of chemically altering their moods during festive occasions makes for a slippery-ness not just underfoot with the snow and ice. Nobody likes pain; we're encouraged to run from it, one way or another. I find that my opportunity to be with people in their pain -- not to run from it, but not to bear it alone -- is, like CS Lewis put it, "A Terrible Grace."

And so, Lord, for those who are grieving, alone, cold or lonely:

Hear our prayer...

America's greatest mental health danger

2007-11-14T07:11:00.000-08:00

We see a lot of hysteria in our country about Mexicans and other "foreign invaders" -- how they have come in just for the purpose of overwhelming and ruining our criminal justice system, penal system, healthcare system, public roads, educational system, public health system, the bobwhite quail population, Big 12 Conference referees and whatever else is falling apart.

Nonsense. Pure nonsense.

We took my dear aging mother to the hospital ER Monday evening -- she was there from 4pm to 11:30. The place was overwhelmed, alright. Pure, mad chaos. Lots and lots of people I sure bet don't have a primary doctor or a health insurance policy were in attendance, waiting to get help. I scanned the waiting room, the parking lot and the smoking areas carefully. Except for a few hispanic appearing nurses on staff (take note), not a Mexican in sight. Nor did I hear any of that fast-talking Spanish; just poor Okie English.

Yesterday I was informed that my health insurance policy will soon be terminated -- because of a bureaucratic snafu.
The real enemy of American decency, order and sanity is not "the Mexicans." It's the health insurance industry. They're out to get (rid of) us. They're driving us crazy. They wouldn't talk to my wife (HIPPA). It's going to take my wife and me hours and hours of being on hold, plus weeks of phone calls, letters, faxes, emails intercessory prayers and congressional hearings to straighten this out.

They're driving us crazy. They're ruining America. Not the Mexicans -- the Insurance Industry. America is its own worst enemy. Again.

Sept 4, 07: Hurricanes season

2007-09-04T10:39:00.000-07:00

Last week I was privileged to present a local screening of the PBS Documentary, "Washing Away: Losing Louisiana." This film was first aired in September, 2006, and featured a number of Gulf Coast families who have sustained losses from Katrina and Rita. Attendance at the screening was good, and I found joy in being able to give some sort of useful expression for my passion for the Gulf and its people.

This local event was part of a nationwide campaign by Gulf Restoration Network, an environmental advocacy organization, to inform the public and recruit participation for its important work. Legislation crucial to saving the Coast is currently before congress -- the Water Resources Development Act (WRDA bill). I encourage you to check with GRN -- google for their website -- to subscribe to their e-newsletter and to add your name to a petition to appropriate government people -- to pass and enact the WRDA bill. Saving the coast is essential to not only New Orleans but to all the coastal communities and the Cajun way of life. You can, indeed, help.

Even as I write, Mexican and Central American communities are being battered by another Force 5 hurricane. These vulnerable people are as precious to God as anyone in the United States. Pray for them and their fragile communities.

Peace, Warren

Undocumented immigrants

2007-08-20T07:44:00.000-07:00

I'm doing my best to abstain from politics; all it does is give me digestive and emotional distress. But the subject of illegal immigration just won't leave me alone. I cannot dismiss the knowledge that Joseph, Mary and their little boy Jesus were, themselves, undocumented aliens, unwanted and in a strange land. I cannot dismiss the line from our Lord's Prayer: Forgive us our trespasses, AS WE FORGIVE THOSE WHO TRESPASS AGAINST US. That seems clear enough: we don't forgive -- we don't get forgiven. Trespassers, even. Jesus says WE ARE TRESPASSERS. And I cannot dismiss the sure knowledge that I've been welcomed by Jesus to a banquet table at which I do not deserve to dine, and into a land in which I do not deserve to dwell.
Lord have mercy; Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy. Enough.

May 17, '07: Sanity in Governing Award

2007-05-18T07:34:00.000-07:00

I have a client, let's call her Doris, who I have come to experience as a good, caring, honest person. Last year Doris spent 5+ months in the Washington County Jail, a very unpleasant place at best, for failure to pay child support. Doris owed the state child support because several years ago she had given up custody of her beloved son to a relative. She had given up custody because she believed herself unable to adequately care for him, and thought the relative could do a better job. Giving up custody does not, however, relieve a parent from responsibility for child support; something poor men and women know all too well.

While she was in jail, Doris lost income, her job, her house, her car -- facts not likely to improve her ability or willingness to pay the past due child support.

In more places we can count, the Bible tells us God is greatly offended when we oppress the poor. Even for those who lack religious sensibilities -- does anyone see a problem here?

And so, for all the Dorises in Washington County, and in Oklahoma and in America who are in jail today for child support obligations, let us pray to the Lord...

Christ have mercy...

Good Friday, 4/6/07: Gratitude

2007-04-06T06:40:00.000-07:00

Last night at Maundy Thursday service, I was gently flooded with gratitude and joy that I get to serve in the way that I do. It feels like God has created me and gifted me for this work and I am in alignment with it. Not everyone is so privileged as I. Yes, of course there are unpleasantries and hardships; there is frustration and heartache. But last night I was once again in that place spiritually where I was aware of my relationship with that old Shaker song, "Simple Gifts," and how from time to time it does come round right. So to all of you who have believed in me, thank you. And to all of you current or former clients who happen to read this from time to time, thank you for letting me love you.

Have a deeply meaningful and joyful Easter week. Peace, Warren

3/30/07 In Memoriam: Suzie

2007-03-30T08:29:00.000-07:00

Most Friday mornings, the Feeble-Minded Men's Prayer Group gathers for breakfast at the Midway Cafe. We roll in around 6:45 or so, have breakfast, and share what's going on. For many years, Suzie was always there to greet us. As is often the case in such places, she knew our names and our coffee and breakfast preferences; and she knew more. She'd share briefly with us, and we with her; showing pics and stories of a new grandkid, how the divorce is going, a graduate, an illness -- you know how it goes. Work conflicts eventually resulted in Suzie moving on -- then returning for a few months -- then gone again.

This morning there was a new pickle jar on the counter. You've seen 'em. This one was for Suzie, our waitress told us. She'd developed cancer -- without medical insurance of course -- and it was for the bills. But there was a fresh new label on the jar -- Suzie died last night. It had been only a month from diagnosis to the end. We never even knew she was sick. Jason had seen her at the Wal-Mart a couple of months ago, given her a hug. She was fine then -- it seemed.

Suzie was a lady; a paragon of blue collar nobility, always there to greet us with a cheerful "Hi," and "The Usual?" God loves to dress up in people. People like Suzie. Stay awake.

And so for Suzie, and for her family, let us pray to the Lord....

And for all those battling cancer, or whatever, without health insurance, let us pray to the Lord....

And for all those who don't care whether Suzie, and all the others, don't have health insurance, God have mercy on their souls....

Thanks, Suzie.

Peace. Warren

28 March, 2007: A Bigger World

2007-03-29T12:53:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, in my "homesickness," I mused, "A man could live out his whole life here in Bartlesville, and never hear one single note of Cajun music. What kind of life is that?" No, that's not self pity!! That's real grief!!

But now, thanks to the wonders of worldwide technology, I'm sitting in my office reading a book on pastoral care (well, I was), listening to my beloved Cajun music, about 99% french(Cajun) in the background. And I don't even have to endure my daily dose of 6+ mosquito bites!! C'est si bon!

Praise for the musicians! Praise for the music! Praise for the (maddening)machine on my desk that brings it to me. And praise for the geeks who put this all together (thanks, Al).

It's a smaller world -- and this afternoon, I'm not minding that. Y'all run out and enjoy some music today!

I just wish I knew French (Cajun) better!

Peace, Warren

March 20, 2007: homesick

2007-03-20T14:15:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I attended a Dixieland Jazz concert in Tulsa with a good friend. The music was excellent, the group with whom I watched were very cordial and I had a great time. But several times, attendees naively asked if the Dixieland music was what I had experienced in New Orleans. I replied, "No, I was not in New Orleans. I was down the Bayou or in Houma. I heard Cajun and Zydeco music" -- something barely comprehended by people here. Dixieland is for tourists who visit the French Quarter. It's still there in a couple of clubs -- next to the punk rock bars on Bourbon Street -- a place few residents of New Orleans and fewer residents of the Bayous ever go.

I got "homesick." Comfortable and among friends in Oklahoma, I nevertheless missed terribly the old Jolly Inn, the Cajun fais do-do there, playing the rub board and being among friends. I know I can never claim to being a real Cajun. Real Cajuns live down Pointe aux Chenes or lower Lafourche parish and listen to that plastic country western stuff, which I can get here any time I want. But I'm a Cajun at heart, if not by blood, and I miss that "chanky-chank" music which is so dear. I miss my friend Rayjohn and Tipitina's and the most awesome dancing I've ever personally seen (you'll never convince me sweaty women aren't sexy!). There's a case of bayou fever that's got me now, and though it may be in remission from time to time, I don't think I'll ever get over it. And I don't want to.
Peace. Warren

22 Feb, 07: An emerging, uncomfortable truth

2007-02-22T12:27:00.000-08:00

Last week I attended the 9th International Congress of the International Critical Incident Stress Foundation. These are the people who developed Critical Incident Stress Debriefing -- one of the most powerful, primary methods for helping those who've been traumatized. Fire, Police, Sheriffs, EMTs all make use of these methods to help their professional first responders survive -- professionally, emotionally, literally -- a disaster or trauma. The meeting in Baltimore was four days of hard work. It was my first exposure to their meetings, and very interesting! As I mentioned, Fire, Police, Sheriffs, State Trooper departments were in the majority. And they have taken over self-care and pushed a lot of mental health types aside. Their repeated experiences are that mental health professionals don't know what we're doing and may well make things worse!

In the growing theory (praxis) of disaster response/traumatology, these first responders have learned:
1 CISM (Critical Incident Stress Management), EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) and Emotional First Aid are valuable psychological tools in helping start recovery from trauma.
2 Massage Therapy is also a very valuable tool, and it is now welcomed by many at a disaster site or soon after
3 Therapy dogs are outstanding caregivers and are coming to be broadly welcomed at disaster/trauma response events. Many dogs and their handlers were present at the Congress. Large, calm dogs usually work best (sorry, Sissy).
4 Chaplains are valuable allies and are usually welcomed by these first responders

Many mental health providers are still unfamiliar with Emotional First Aid, CISM or EMDR, and are ill-equipped to assist in disasters. Academic psychology is frequently hostile to these useful practices. Consequently, Firemen and others are hostile to academicians.

During the Congress it became clearer and clearer to me that I was still carrying a lot of wounds (stress symptoms)from my year in Louisiana. I'd worked almost nonstop for a year. I had lived under stressful conditions. I hadn't exercised nearly enough. I have spent months emotionally on the edge. I'm hurting and I need help. After admitting this to myself, finally, (yes, we therapists are still human) I've begun to reach out for help. I'm no different from National Guard troops, sheriffs, EMTs or anyone else. I've been there for others. Now it's time to let others be there for me.

don't anyone get too alarmed -- I'm still pretty good at my craft and able to be helpfully present for you if you need me!

Peace,Warren

a test post for photos

2007-01-08T21:49:00.000-08:00

I'm learning to add pictures to my blog from a mac. Not easy. Here's a picture I recently took of a local rural scene. I like it. Enjoy. Peace, Warren

counseling in Oklahoma -- I'm not quitting!

2007-01-08T21:25:00.000-08:00

I began this blog so that my friends and family in Oklahoma (and elsewhere) might follow my work and adventures in southern Louisiana. I'm home now in Bartlesville. But four good reasons to continue the blog are:
1 Many of my friends and family want to continue to be in touch with the work I do
2 My new friends down da bayou want to stay in touch with me here!
3 Blogging is another form of writing/journaling that keeps me in touch with myself -- enhancing awareness!
4 It's fun!

So while I'm now welcoming new clients in individual, couples and family counseling psychotherapy here in Bartlesville, I'll be blogging my work. Be assured I'll continue to be very careful to protect client confidentiality. Hopefully if you've read my blogs before, you'll find it useful/interesting/amusing. I hope to blog about spirituality and psychotherapy, couples relationships, disaster response theory and practice and other aspects of pastoral counseling work.

Peace, Warren

week 53, post 1:endings, beginnings

2006-12-03T13:32:00.000-08:00

I anticipate that this will be my next-to-last or last blog from Louisiana (one more for the road tomorrow?). But I've had so much fun with this blogging that I'm in the mood to continue this site for those who wish to follow what this old man and his little white dog are up to as a pastoral counselor in private practice in Oklahoma. So check in with this site in the future as you wish to; there may be something of value or interest even though I expect I'll be a little more settled. Some of my Louisiana friends may want to stay in touch the other direction -- to know what it's like for me "UP THERE on the prairie."

This has been a week of tender farewells -- with clients throughout the week, at A-Bear's Cafe and the Jolly Inn friday night, at Grace Lutheran Church this morning. We understand this. There were very few "church camp promises" to stay in touch if we knew it wasn't going to happen. I certainly will stay in touch with some of the great friends I have here. But for many of us, this was the last time we'll ever see each other this side of heaven. They will go on with their busy lives and I with mine. Memories and attachments will be crowded out and replaced.

One lives life forward.

Peace, Warren.

week 52, post 1: For everything as season

2006-11-28T15:12:00.000-08:00

What an incredible year this has been! And yes, my year is coming to an end... I have profoundly mixed feelings about this. Yes, I am very loyal to my clients here, and am finding it very difficult to terminate with them. I have made many good friends here and hate to say goodbye to them. There is much that I have come to love about coastal LA and the bayous, especially lower Terrebonne Parish. I will miss it all, and I am sad.

As I terminate with my clients, I also have feelings of great satisfaction for the work we've done together. The partnerships of counseling therapy are so rewarding to me. Terminating forces us to take stock of this, and we get to enjoy that accomplishment along with the sadness.

I also want to go home. I do indeed miss my wife and my friends in B'ville. I enjoy our family and the gatherings in Oklahoma. I (mostly) look forward to growing my private practice in B'ville. I also have learned a lot about myself over this past year and hope to continue to be available to do disaster related work through SAMHSA, Red Cross or other agencies. Although it is indeed stressful and painful, it is also challenging and rewarding to help others in this way.

Bartlesville is a good place in many ways. I love it and respect it. It is also a dull and stifling place (for me, at least) and I'm reminded by this past year how good it's been to get away and experience a different context. Bartlesville may be home -- but it's not good to stay home all the time (not for me, at least).

With the exception of an extra 20# I'll be taking with me (I do love seafood and Cajun cooking!), I'm going/coming home with a sense of satisfaction and anticipation. And the little white dog is coming with me...

Peace, Warren

week 51, post 1: Psychology 101

2006-11-21T07:28:00.000-08:00

This is not funny = this is really funny. I found this musing at the marina/bait shop at Grand Isle. I love it.

"She told me we couldn't afford beer anymore and I'd have to quit.

Then I caught her spending $65 on makeup and I asked her how come I had to give up stuff and she didn't

She said she needed the makeup to look pretty for me.

I told her that was what the beer was for.

I don't think she's coming back."

Miller Brewing Co.

See, I told you.
Sorry.
Peace, Warren

week 49, post 1:An extraordinary gathering

2006-11-13T14:53:00.000-08:00

While wife Rita and son were shopping, Willis stayed in the truck -- and got a vision: the fulfillment of the Kingdom through the unity of the Body. Ordinary lay people, without a lot of worldly sophistication, they offered themselves in humble obedience to Willis' promptings. So together they planned a party and sent out letters of invitation to most of the clergy they know.

Poor dears. Clergy are so busy and so self-centered, it would be very difficult to get them to attend if St. Paul and/or Billy Graham were on the guest list. Clergy and churches in the bayou communities are even more fragmented than usual.

"Build it and they will come," the Spirit said. Willis and Rita offered their home. They came. From New Orleans. From Mississippi. From Houston (Texas). That poor fellow got lost 4 times on the way (all 4 in Houma -- no surprise)! From Montegut, Pointe aux Chenes, Houma, Bourg. About 50 some clergy and wives attended. Ministers gathering without much agenda except to enjoy the wonderful seafood, each other and the blessings of the Spirit. Apostles. Prophets. Teachers. Evangelists. Pastors. All categories came. All colors. Wow.

We prayed, ate, sang, prayed some more, ate some more, talked, witnessed, prophesied, prayed some more, hugged each other, prayed some more and went home happy.

A little miracle. Right there "down da bayou." I saw it.

Thank you, Willis. Thank you Rita. Thank you HP. And _______________, I hope you bought that GPS you promised yourself. Amen.

week 44, post 2: the little dog and the seagull

2006-10-26T11:48:00.000-07:00

The old man and his little dog went walking along the beach one afternoon, as was their occasional custom. As they walked, together they eyed a solitary seagull at the water's edge. "Let me catch it!" said the dog. So the old man bent down and released the little dog from her leash.

Instantly, the little dog sprang forward toward the seagull. The seagull quickly flew out over the water. When the water reached chest high (not very far), the little dog stopped. Seeing this, the seagull quickly banked hard into a 180 turn and flew back, just over the dog, then a little higher over the old man.

The chase was on! Down the beach the seagull and little dog went, right at the water's edge, the little dog running as fast as she could go, while the seagull stayed just out of reach. They went a long way down the beach before the seagull turned inland with the dog in hot pursuit. They circled around a trash pile, then headed for the old man, like an air race. When they reached the old man, they turned inland again and kept going. About the time they reached the sand dune, the little dog, all out of breath, stopped.

The seagull stopped too, landing softly on the sand. Inspired by this, the little dog sprang forward. The gull took off again, just out of reach. This time, the little dog stopped much sooner. The seagull stopped too.

The little dog did not give chase. Instead, it walked slowly toward the seagull, which did not move. They stood not far apart, just looking at each other, for some time.

Finally, the little dog took one more step and the seagull flew again. The little dog did not give chase, but turned and ran full speed toward the old man. The old man crouched down and welcomed the little dog with words, hugs and pats. Clipping the little dog's leash to the collar, the old man said, "He was pretty fast, eh?" But the little dog did not answer. She was just happy to be with the old man.

week 44, post 1: we belong together

2006-10-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

I've said many times we're growing theory as we go -- as is the case everywhere and always. (those who lay claim to absolute and fixed knowledge are both wrong and dangerous -- the most dangerous kind of arrogance -- remember, the serpent promised Eve and Adam KNOWLEDGE, not presence or uncertainty -- he still does) I was home week before last on vacation. Just before I left, the school counselor called me with a fairly urgent need. We've been building cooperation on a youngster and family. I was leaving at the wrong time (when else???). Miss Elaine filled in for me, and some continuity of care was made possible. She met with the counselor and with the child. Assessments were shared, and some tentative plans for enriching treatment were put together.

The counselor, the teacher, Elaine and I all need each other -- for the sake of the child. Not always, but more often than we usually recognize, counseling, casework, education and healthcare need to be integrated. It worked -- at least this time. I know in the future we'll get it wrong some, but I'll take this little victory and savor it. There's hope.

It's a little chilly here today. And I'm told that the gators have gone back to their dens until April. I'll not likely see them again for some time. Who knows how long? I'll miss them. I miss them already. But each seasonal change has its joys and consolations: no mosquitos for several days. And the speckled trout are back....

Peace, Warren

week 40, post 1: pictures

2006-10-02T12:45:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture which I was not able to publish last week.
Peace, Warren.

week 39, post 1: dolphins at play

2006-09-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

Last week I took Tia, the photojournalist who's with us, to Grand Isle. She intended to go out kayaking with Ken, the guide, and do photos of the marsh, Grand Isle, and perhaps the dolphins. High breezes from the east make Kayaking a real challenge, so they stayed ashore while I stayed busy with clients. But Ken put in a good word with the right people, and Andy and Sue agreed to put together a party to sailing after work. So Ken, Pastor Regina, Tia and I were treated to a wonderful evening sailing trip -- dolphins included.

I learned one way that dolphins appear to play. They catch a fish, bring it to the surface, and toss it into the air, then catch it. In my youth, I was discouraged from "playing with my food," and I don't know if PETA has picketed the vile dolphins for their cruelty. But it was great fun to watch.

Some minor boat maintenance dictated that we run aground on a sand bar while Andy scraped barnacles from the prop shaft. It provided an excellent opportunity to swim, and Tia and I availed ourselves of it. Great fun, even after some mysterious creature brushed against my leg!

We were then treated to a beautiful sunset, with a shrimp boat in the foreground for added effect. Such blessings!

Dolphin, swim and sunset pictures to follow.
Peace, Warren.

week 38, post 1: anniversary

2006-09-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

Yesterday marked the one-year anniversary of our SAMHSA team arrival in Houma. Bob Walsh and I arrived at Audrey's B&B at about 5pm, and went to Boudreau's and Thibodeaux's for supper. So yesterday was a day for remembrance and a little nostalgia. I stopped by Bob and Audrey's for coffee in the morning, and ate supper with friends Elaine and Tommy at B&T's. When Bob and I got back from supper, Lowell and Steve had arrived. Gay was still lost in LA somewhere on her drive from OK, and would arrive sometime after 11:00.

We were a great team; we worked hard, cared well for evacuees, cared well for each other, enjoyed Audrey's enthusiasm and Bob's quiet, steady support.

Little did I know a year later, I'd still be here, hard at work and savoring the good memories of the life and work we lived here together in Bayou Country. Tonight I'm gonna go to da Jolly Inn, play my rub board, dance a little and celebrate the Spirit of the Adventure we call life and how, sometimes when life doesn't turn out like we'd planned it, it actually turns out a lot better.

There's a spiritual principle there. It's good to have goals and make plans and work hard toward their fulfillment -- as long as we understand that control is always an illusion and that surprise and change are the essence of life and that flexibility and creativity are essential.

Hang in there. Hang loose. Enjoy the journey. Sing and dance a little along the way. Make sure you've got good companions for the trip.

Peace, Warren

week 37, post 2; Cajunization, part______?

2006-09-16T11:24:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned before, Cajunization is a process which is both joyful and very serious. Not only are the initiate's character and higher/lower consciousness to be addressed, but equipment as well. So my truck also must undergo Cajunization. I'd already started that long ago with an appropriate name for the old Dodge: MOjO 2X4. It now sports a Cajunized front bumper (bent and reshaped with a hammer) fully adorned with love bugs, and an appropriately muscular trailer hitch (class III). I'd worn out the seats, so it was time for some seat covers. What color/style?
Realtree Camo of Course!
Sissy has already added her final touch -- white dog hair to complete the refinement.

Peace, Warren.

week 37, post 1: a done deal

2006-09-16T10:55:00.000-07:00

Kind and generous souls from Chicago donated a conversion van to the church to be used as a tool for mission. No strings attached. A family "down da bayou" very much needed transportation. A good fit. So we set ourselves to the task of taking ownership of the van, then transferring it to the family in need. A straightforward and easy task, right? Perhaps you've never tried to conduct business with a church before? Perhaps you've never dealt with a state bureaucracy before?

The Van was donated to us before I arrived Dec 1, 2005. There are way too many details of the odyssey/ordeal to share here in this blog. The task was handed to me about 12 weeks ago. I'd worked on it steadily for the 12 weeks. Yesterday afternoon it was finished. The van was transferred to the deserving recipient yesterday afternoon. I had become cranky and irritable with all the frustrations of the process, though no one was ever really to blame; it's just how it all works. Now I can let go. "Now, O Lord, let your servant depart in peace..."

Published is a photo of the family, with two of our team: Courtney Pellegrin (liason, administration and outreach) holding Juliette; recipient Chris, holding Howard (busy with Taco); Pastor Kelly Bedard.

The fulfillments of the Kingdon happen all around us. It's a good thing to notice and to celebrate.

Peace, Warren

week 35, post 4: how can I help, part__________.

2006-08-27T17:36:00.000-07:00

Over and over again Bayou Grace and those we serve are blessed with wonderful volunteers -- especially Lutherans from Illinois. It figures, actually: Illinois/Chicago is rich with Lutherans. Bayou Grace is truly interfaith, but based in a Lutheran Church. So they find their way here. And they serve us so well. Carol is a retiree volunteer from Chicago who has been most generous with her time, wisdom and energy. Her heart is huge for our work. Since Spring she has given us about 8 weeks in two stints. Thank you Carol. Thank you so much.

If you can't make it down here...the the first way you can help is to educate yourself. Learn of Cajun culture, and learn about coastal erosion and global warming. Two books I'm reading now which I strongly recommend to you:

The Ravaging Tide, by Mike Tidwell
Holding Back the Sea, by Christopher Hallowell.

Then to help us -- and help yourself: Start doing evrything you can to reduce your use of fossil fuels. Now. It would be nice if George Bush had the wherewithal to be a real leader, but he doesn't and we can't wait. We'll have to lead ourselves, and the legislators. Begin with self.

Peace, Warren.

week 35, post 3: exercising the imagination

2006-08-27T17:03:00.000-07:00

While you're sitting at your computer reading this blog, take a minute and look around the room you're in. Look at the doors. Look carefully at the tops of the doors. Now draw a line all the way around the room at that level. See it clearly. Imagine that to be the flood line should a cat 4 or 5 hurricane hit your town. This room and all the rooms in your house would be filled for three weeks with deadly, filthy, salt water from that line on down.

Imagine your losses; imagine the process of recovery.

Try it again. Imagine the flood line even with the top of the lowest door hinge. That water, equally filthy, toxic and corrosive, would be there only 4 days -- the result of a cat 1 or 2 hurricane.

Imagine the process of recovery.

Try it again. Imagine your house is on high ground, and does not flood. Simply imagine that the roof is lifted and that 7 inches of rain enters the house from above, soaking 70% of all insulation and ceiling materials, plus 50% of all the drywall panels in your house, plus 50% of the wall studs, plus 100% of all clothing, carpet, bedding and upholstered furniture -- setting toxic mold growth underway almost immediately.

Imagine the process of recovery.

Imagine you have good insurance (does your policy cover water damage?). Now imagine that your insurance company takes 9 months to send you your payment.

Sometimes there are things so terrible to think about, we just don't...

Think about it...

Peace, Warren

week 35, post 2: Ernesto?

2006-08-25T19:29:00.000-07:00

Next Tuesday marks one of two terrible anniversaries for this area. And there's now a tropical depression in the Gulf. They say it will soon become a named storm -- Ernesto? The chief of the OEP (Office of Emergency Preparedness)has called a meeting for Monday night, to reveal plans for evacuations and shelters.

Yes, we can feel it. I went to Lowe's tonight to get some stuff for my little portable home. I noticed the gallons of bleach prominently displayed. The thought ran through my head that this entire store could be scattered everywhere -- not here at all -- a week from now.

Sunday, I'd gone down all the way to the end of Placquemines Parish. New Orleans got off easy -- real easy. There was no debating what to repair in Placquemines Parish -- there was nothing there to repair. Virtually 100% of the housing there is now FEMA trailers. Easy to set them up; just park it on the slab where your house used to be, hook up the power and sewer and you're home. One giant RV park.

The Mississippi River runs a LONG WAY through the middle of Placquemines Parish from New Orleans to the Gulf of Mexico. The Big Muddy wasn't very -- almost clean and clear. We're going to be depending on the Mississippi to bring the sediment to us with which we'll rebuild the coast. But better farmland and river management upstream has reduced the sediment load the river used to carry. Ironic, isn't it?We'll have to get better at managing all that it does give us. The Corps of Engineers used to dredge the river onto barges, then dump it off the continental shelf. The'll have to bring the barges to Terrebonne Parish, please. Precious stuff, mud. We can't live without it here.

I'll add a few pictures of Placquemines Parish later. Please pray for those of coastal LA and Missippi who've been forgotten. There's no intention to nourish any hostility toward NO. It's just that many others have suffered, too, with hardly any notice at all.

As Ernesto builds in the gulf, we can see it in the skies here. We can feel it. This is serious business.

Once again: there's no preventing hurricanes. But there IS a way to minimize the damage they do.

Peace, Warren.

week 35, post 1:fecundity!

2006-08-25T19:14:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows this area is just plain lush with fauna and flora -- especially flying fauna (horrid things). Every night I kill at least 3 or 4 before going to bed, so they don't kill me first. The other night I missed at least one and it bit me on the cheek. So I turned over and it bit me on the other cheek! So I got up and killed it! Sorry, Jesus. It just doesn't work with mosquitos.

So it was with glee I witnessed the hatching of the dragonflies and also a hatching of baby lizards here near the front door of the church. Sissy has decided that it's great sport to (try to)catch a dragonfly. And one of the baby lizards (so cute!)has decided to move in with us. So we have an office lizard. Don't ask for a photo -- he won't hold still for closeups! But he's welcome to all the flying fauna he can get.

It's just too bad these wonderful creatures have to wait until August to show up. April looks like a much better idea to me.

Bon appetit!

week 34, post 2: I like Jack Russells and I like fishing

2006-08-16T18:43:00.000-07:00

I like Jack Russell terriers
I like fishing
(note picture)
But it's a little hard to embrace both at the same time...
It was a brutally hot day, way too hot to even think of leaving sissy in the truck. So I took her in the kayak. First, she decided that the front deck of a plastic kayak would be a great place to stand. Just like kids; sometimes there's no tellin' 'em. They just have to find out for themselves. Sissy lasted less than 30 seconds before her swimming lesson.

Then she decided the whole purpose of the trip was to catch the spinnerbait. Fortunately, she didn't.

Then I caught this nice redfish. So that was it! Sissy sniffed it, declined a bite, but decided her job was to dash frantically in every direction at once, looking for the next redfish. This was just so fun!! Did I tell you that one has to stalk redfish in shallow water QUIETLY? Sigh.

The dragonflies have hatched here. I wish they hadn't waited so long -- they're excellent mosquito eaters. Some university department of entomology needs to come up with an early hatching dragonfly -- like tomatoes or whatever. Sissy's new favorite sport is dragon fly catching (at least chasing). She has yet to catch one, but she's not giving up... There's just something about Jack Russells and insects...

week 34, post 1: manna for the journey

2006-08-12T08:10:00.000-07:00

"Behold I will rain bread from heaven..."

"I can't do it."
"There is so much to do and we are so small."
"I/we are exhausted."

One of my colleagues remarked to me, "Warren, do you have a support group? You're emotionally close to the edge." I was a bit embarrassed by his observation, but I acknowledged that he was right. We have all pushed hard, and we stay close to the edge. There is so much to do...

A group of volunteers from Chicago left this morning. They'd been here for a week. Their wonderful pastor came with them and cared for us of Bayou Grace as the rest of them worked on houses or in the warehouse or with the case manager. Groups like this are like manna from heaven. We are energized and renewed by their enthusiasm and presence among us.

No, we really can't do it alone. We were never meant to. No we don't have anywhere near enough resources to hire enough professionals to do all that's needed; we were never meant to. But, day by day we find enough to keep going. Just enough. And we have to learn to pace ourselves, to "honor the sabbath and keep it holy." But we're still going...

Peace, Warren.

Week 33, post 1: Bayou Grace update

2006-07-31T14:08:00.000-07:00

Here is an update from Bayou Grace -- our organization. It's not personally me, but it gives excellent perspective on what's going on here. Let me know if you want to be added to a regular email of it...

Week of July 31—August 4, 2006

Camp Noah Success!
The two Camp Noah summer camps were a success. Both the camp at The Father’s House in Pointe aux Chenes and at St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Theriot had full enrollment! Site coordinators and many parents and community members expressed their happiness with the Camp Noah curriculum and how much this camp was a blessing for children. These all-day camps were a relief for youth who continue to live the daily reality of disaster relief.

Bayou Grace and the community thank the volunteers from Pennsylvania and Minnesota for taking the time to volunteer for these camps. Disaster relief has been going on non-stop for over ten months now. These camps provided some much needed outreach not only for the youth but for the adults as well.

More Special Guests!
The Illini continue to bless Bayou Grace! Yet another team from around The Windy City is coming soon to volunteer its time and efforts. The group of up to twenty volunteers will arrive from St. Luke’s Lutheran Church on August 6th. They will be staying the week. In the group will be the pastor, two Stephen ministers, a nursing student, and a foreman. These volunteers will be staying at the new Bayou Grace volunteer site at the Chauvin Gym and will be working at the warehouse with Elaine Savoie, Courtney Pellegrin-Howell, and with Mennonite Disaster Service. Please pray for their safe travel.

How You Can Assist
• Electricians, plumbers and construction volunteers are needed! For construction, you do not have to be experienced. You can join another work crew. You can volunteer with either TRAC or Mennonite Disaster Service. Volunteers are needed Monday—Friday.

• Volunteers are needed to help give out distribution through the Bayou Grace warehouse. The warehouse is open two days a week. Some people do not have transportation and need their items delivered to them. If you can help bring distribution to people in need, this would help a family tremendously.

• Family Advocate/Case Manager Elaine Savoie also welcomes accompaniment on her home visits. This is a great way to serve and to meet people whom Bayou Grace is serving.

Please contact Bayou Grace Program Director Courtney Pellegrin-Howell @ 217-0068 if you have questions regarding any of the above.

DON’T FORGET WEEKLY MEETINGS
AT THE CHAUVIN GYM EVERY TUESDAY
TO RAISE COASTAL EROSION AWARENESS ET AL.
DINNER STARTS AT 6:00 P.M.

Peace, Warren.

week 32, post 3: The Old Man and his Dog

2006-07-27T10:35:00.000-07:00

I've acquired a sidekick while I'm down here: Sissy is a 2y.o. Jack Russell Terrier. She is not my dog, but she's on loan for the time being. She belongs to Andrew, my former host. Sissy and I travel most everywhere. She's in training as an assistant therapist, and is getting good at reading feelings -- especially mine -- and she's getting good at greeting others. She loves to give gifts to everyone -- kisses and lots of white hair to decorate their clothing. Here's a picture of Sissy and me on our way...
Peace, Warren.

week 32, post 2: Community Based Counseling

2006-07-23T17:46:00.000-07:00

"Warren, this is ______. I'm at the doctor's office in ________. He's running behind and I can't make it back to ______________ in time for my appointment." Warren: "Well, I have to be back at the church in Houma by 6. You're close to there now. So we're going to pass each other coming and going." C: We can meet at the Mac Donald's in _______________. Can we do that?" W: "I'm okay with that if you are."

So we met at the MacDonald's, a less than ideal location, but we had a pretty good session nonetheless. We blocked out the distractions and followed up on some issues we'd opened up over the last several sessions.

By Freudian/medical theory, operating under such conditions is simply unacceptable -- not done! Well, Freud's theory is flawed, and we're doing the best we can with what we can. Actually, "community-based counseling" is now cutting-edge theory and practice. Seeing the clients in context, integrating counseling with medical care, education and casework, is where it's at nowadays. This client is motivated -- that's the most telling factor of all. She works hard in our sessions. Even with distractions, we get to here-and-now impasses, the therapeutic moment, and she sticks with it and progress is made.

It would be better -- I think -- if I could see clients in a nice, safe, quiet, well-appointed office with a nice receptionist, etc. That's what I always wanted, at least. But maybe I'm just old now. Maybe what I'm doing is really the most productive -- cutting edge, even.

I'm not proud of me. But I sure can be proud of some of my clients. They're hard at work. And they're growing.

Congratulations are in order to another hard worker -- Floyd Landis, who won this year's Tour de France with a stunning come-from-behind victory when defeat was all but certain. Well done, Floyd.

Peace, Warren.

week 32, post 1: The old man and the sea

2006-07-23T17:40:00.000-07:00

It was a good day. And this is a pretty good picture -- taken by Ken Linn, the Kayak Guide. Maybe this is supposed to by my "Old Man and the Sea" picture.

Week 31, post 2: beauty

2006-07-13T09:29:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago yesterday, Ken and I went fishing for a little while after work down at Grand Isle. We went out on our kayaks and were hunting redfish. We found a few but fishing was slow. Then on our way to another area I suggested we work an area near a rock jetty. Trout. We got into the trout and were catching one after another. They were mostly runts, 10" or so, but we stayed busy. I'm guessing we caught 20-30 fish between us.
Then I heard a "pssh!" behind me. Dolphins! A family of about 7 dolphins were just behind me/us! I took my hand and patted the water and they came to investigate. They were about 15' from me. They stayed about 20 minutes, feeding on trout, playing, rolling near me. So magical and wondrous! I could've slipped out of the kayak and gone swimming with them.
A little later the sky turned an incredible brilliance of pinks, reds, oranges, yellows and blues with the sunset.
Of course I have no pictures -- left the camera in the truck -- but I have an image burned in my memory and this wonderful story of beauty to tell. Whether it's the marsh, the swamp or the seashore, this is truly a beautiful place.
Ken is a man of spiritual awareness, too, so we just paused to pray -- to thank the creator for this wonderful experience we were blessed to share. I don't know that we were being religious -- but we were conscious of the presence of the holy, for sure.
Peace, Warren.

week 31, post 1: A Navajo Prayer

2006-07-11T13:55:00.000-07:00

I want to share with you in two parts; the first a Navajo prayer that I have carried with me for probably 15+ years:

Now Talking God
With your feet I walk,
I walk with your limbs,
I carry forth your body.

For me your mind thinks,
Your voice speaks for me

Beauty is before me,
And beauty is behind me,
Above and below me hovers the beautiful.

I am surrounded by it,
I am immersed in it

In my youth I am aware of it,
And in old age
I shall walk quietly
The beautiful trail

Tomorrow or later this week I'll post again with a companion to the prayer.
Peace, Warren.

Week 29, post 1: Gumbo

2006-06-26T16:44:00.000-07:00

I've been here a little over six months now. As adventure gives way to routine, certain themes emerge for me:
1 I have come to love these people, this culture, and this coastland (our Mother, the Earth). I don't know how long I will be allowed to stay, but I know this life here will always have a part of my heart.
2 I enjoy the work of the counselor. I'm old and tired, and I can feel it. I have to push myself. But I like to be productive and I enjoy helping people.
3 Bayou culture has its distinctives which must be appreciated and respected. But people are people anywhere, and I like the work.
4 Dolphins, alligators, shrimp boats, Cajun music and fishing are endlessly fascinating. I may get used to them, but I'll never get bored with them.
5 I can live a long time without television. But I hate not being able to get online at will.
6 I miss my wife, my family, my church and a few friends back home. I will not stop missing them. I haven't gotten used to that dimension of loneliness. But I can bear it. I am resolved to reflect very little on my "Oklahoma Life" in this blog. It's not appropriate. But the loneliness is there. The fine friends I'm making here do not take it away. And I also miss my beloved Canada.

The dolphins really were that close. And it is thrilling to encounter these wonderful creatures. Come and see for yourself.

Peace, Warren.

Week 28, post 2: testament

2006-06-17T19:46:00.000-07:00

A friend of a client came up to me: “I don’t know what you’re doing with Brenda, but keep it up. She’s doing so much better!”

A middle-age client (in tears): “I’ve never had anyone just be here for me. I’ve always had to be there for everyone else. This is so good. I am so grateful.”

A client: “You’re not like a therapist. You’re like a friend.”
W: “How would a therapist be different with you?”
C: “A therapist would be more formal and more technical. Clinical. With you I can just talk. You’re so easy to talk to. And so relaxed.”

Exchanges over the course of a session with a 5 year-old boy:

B: When you left last time, I cried.
W: Were you sad?
B: Yes. I was sad.
W: Being with you means a lot to me, too.

B: Can I be your friend?

(a thunderstorm is building, with some lightning and thunder):
B: (looking up, and looking frightened)
W: Does that thunder make you scared?
B: Is there going to be a hurricane?
W: No. there won’t be any water in the yard, and you won’t have to leave.
B: (Looking toward thunder) I think that is my momma crying.
W: Oh. Do you miss her? Do you think of her up there?
B: Yeh. (pause) I don’t like God.
W: You mean because she went to be with God?
B: Yeh. (pause)
W: I was thinking that maybe God was sad, too, just like you. And maybe God wanted her to stay here with you. But she was too sick, and her illness made her have to go.
(we hug)

B: Are you going to come back?
W: Yes, I’m going to come back. I hope you want me to.
B: Next week?
W: No. It will be two weeks. I’ll be away next week.
B: That’s a long time…

With regard to the one client's comments regarding how I appear relaxed, and I am easy to talk to: This is something I've heard before but I've never understood about myself. Yes, I very much want to welcome people forth, and let them be themselves. But I've never tried to hide my tension, nor hide that a lot of the time I'm working hard -- not to accept someone, but to understand and to formulate/ask the right question(s)(good therapy is 95% asking the right questions, 5%(at most)telling the client wise things). Therapy is hard work; it is often intense. I do not perceive myself as easygoing. A blind spot.

Peace, Warren.

Week 28, post 1: Radical Women?

2006-06-16T13:37:00.000-07:00

I recently had a home visit with a woman in her 60s. At one point, I mentioned to her that I thought her community needed a women's prayer and Bible study group. Would she be willing to help start one? She nearly burst into tears; this is what she had been praying for/about for some time. It was a deep longing for her. Soon after I contacted two other women in this same community to see if they wanted to begin. They'd been thinking of it for some time. One promised to contact the first lady. Each knew one or two women who might want to participate.

In Missouri or Oklahoma or wherever, women gathering to study and pray is not all that common, but it is not so rare, either. Here down the bayou, it is very rare. It is radical. The group is still just an idea in gestation. But it looks like it might just fly. This could be a big deal. Please pray for these sisters.

The men of the community are coming close to getting their own group going, too. Big.

I believe I am following the example of Jesus. We of Bayou Grace are freely willing to bless individuals, families and communities however we can, with what we can. There are no conditions or strings attached. But it doesn't stop there. There are many people we encounter and serve who also have gifts to share. At least 50% of our work is to notice and call forth those gifts. Many of these people, battered by storms of a multitude of sorts, still have a lot to give. Part of our role is to be giving; part of our role is to be demanding -- as did/does our Lord.

One thing we very much need is to maintain efficient contact with volunteers who've been here and left -- an e-newsletter to them. Our little Bayou Grace staff is overwhelmed right now. Could someone help us? I've been told by many that it's a simple task -- but it escapes me! Let us know.

We also need volunteers who can sew -- curtains -- for houses for families rebuilding after the flood. Can you help?

Some of these volunteer jobs could maybe be done remote.

Peace, Warren

week 26, post 2: "Didja catch any fish?"

2006-06-01T17:28:00.000-07:00

Too late I saw the brake lights and stopped pickup ahead of me. Bang!

The driver ahead and I stood side by side, viewing the damage. C:"My truck's fine. Just bent the hitch a little. You're the loser (viewing fluids running all over the street from my speared radiator). Do you want to report this?" W:"I don't see a need to if you don't. Is your lady ok?" C:"Yeah, she's fine." Then he noticed the boat/trailer behind my truck. C:"Didja catch any fish?" W:"No, I didn't even go. The motor's sick and I was taking it to be worked on." C:"Oh man! I'm sure sorry about that!"

We shook hands and parted, with mutual expressions of goodwill and good fishing.

Cajuns. Gotta love 'em (at least some!).

Peace, Warren.

week 26, post 1: (bayou)Grace abounds

2006-06-01T16:32:00.000-07:00

Our concept of Bayou Grace as a multidimensional community services ministry appears to be a sound one. We address body, mind and spirit -- individually, in couples, in families and throughout the communities. We meet physical needs by providing such necessities as bedding, furniture, medical equipment and other items to families whose homes were damaged or destroyed by the hurricanes. When appropriate, we assist families with filling out the necessary paperwork for FEMA reimbursement, etc. We attend to emotional and spiritual needs by providing counseling and by operating Camp Noahs for children who have been affected by the disasters. We are building health in the communities by working for coastal preservation and other crucial environmental concerns and by supporting existing community leaders. When Elaine, our family advocate, becomes aware of emotional needs in the process of doing her casework, she refers them to me or to other appropriate counselors. Elaine and the school counselors keep me busy. When I become aware of unmet physical needs and refer those problems to Elaine. We are working closely with Mennonite Disaster Services to restore families to healthy living conditions. We are building partnership with Teche clinics to meet medical needs. Courtney, our administrator, reaches out to the community, including volunteers from out of our area who are regularly here, to do education and development.

I'm pleased with Bayou Grace and the whole person, whole community work we're doing. It's Good News to the poor. It's Gospel. It's Grace.

Peace, Warren.

week 25, post 1 "institutionalization"

2006-05-27T18:17:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I traveled to NOLA to a 4-day "Katrina Summit" of former Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA)deployees. There appeared to be nearly 1000 former deployees and government officials in attendance. I am grateful for the initial sponsorship of SAMHSA which allowed me to be of service, and for the invitation to attend this summit.

I worked very hard at the summit, attending all meetings possible but one. It appears that the SAMHSA deployment of mental health professionals all over the gulf coast and wherever evacuees were sent in significant numbers was generally a real success. Sometimes the government works right; credit should be given where credit is due. Westover Consultants, in suburban DC, was the recruiter of the professionals and worked closely with SAMHSA to formulate goals and strategies for the deployment. Westover and SAMHSA essentially put together the federal MENTAL HEALTH response to the disaster in about 48 hours.

Now we are in the process of evaluating our work and planning response strategies for future disasters. It is not difficult at all to see that there are pressures being exerted regarding inclusion and exclusion of future responders. Some of the criteria may possibly include specialized training in disaster response theory and practice. Professionals may be included or excluded on the basis of "strategies of therapy" employed, based on "evidence-based" studies of therapeutic efficacy (Dont'expect any Jungians to be included; we're not even important enough to merit a study). "Cultural sensitivity" training may also be required (yes, there was black racism clearly in evidence at the meeting). Eventually we are likely to witness an "American Association of Disaster Response Mental Health Service Providers and Supervisors (AADRMHSPS), or some such acronym, with a national board, professional staff, dues paying membership, credentialing process, etc. Everybody's going to fight over the disaster pie money. Surprised?

Can anyone say, "FEMA"? "Red Cross?"

It's nice when professionals know what they're doing. Not all Katrina response teams were as good as the one I was on. Not all individuals were as effective as my teammates.

But a study of the Hebrew Scriptures, among other sources, contains the clear wisdom that we naturally want to organize stuff. They also understand that when you institutionalize, you do violence to the Spirit and you pay a high price. Count on it.

God help us...

Peace, Warren.

week 23, post 3: Cajunization

2006-05-18T15:00:00.000-07:00

As I have previously commented, the process of Cajunization is a delicate and risky process. The initiate must be quided into the sacred mysteries and ancient traditions by a wise and experienced master. Too much too soon, and all could be lost! At each step of the way, the initiate must be evaluated for his or her (we aren't going to be sexist about this!!) readiness for the next step (degree). I am so forturnate that my mentor, James, is one of the great masters: skillful, courageous beyond description, experienced and wise, yet youthful and passionate. His wise guidance has been grace upon grace for me. Some of these ancient secrets must be carefully guarded, but some of the process can be freely disclosed. Enclosed are two pictures which the traitions allow me to disclose to those who are wise enough to check my blog. Remember, you can click on the picture to upsize it for more detail -- if you wish.
Peace, Warren.

week 23, post 2: a call for volunteers

2006-05-15T19:49:00.000-07:00

"I want to help. What can I do?" General goodwill abounds, but grounding it is not always easy. Bayou Grace needs volunteers -- now and throughout the Summer. You can help with buildings and construction/rehab if you wish. The rec center at Chauvin needs CPF (cleanup, paintup, fixup). We also need a lot of volunteer help with managing our warehouse -- inventory, stacking, etc. Not very glamorous, but very useful. We can use volunteers to act as casework assistants -- assessing needs, helping local people fill out forms, etc. We need volunteers to do paperwork: chase grants or other funding sources, contact state agencies to make arrangements for medical volunteers or other professionals to come and help. We need volunteers to help manage volunteers. Please distribute this call to your churches or other groups. Come individually, or come as a group. We'll house you at volunteer village, in the cutest little plastic (!) huts, which the Presbyterians have erected to help with the effort. (Picture enclosed)
contact: courtneypellegrin@yahoo.com

week 23, post 1: failure and success

2006-05-15T19:27:00.000-07:00

Finally. Finally! Finally, after months and months of delays, my host Andrew's insurance came through and he had the financial resources to raise the house. The long-awaited day was set for Wednesday (!) Not good. I'd been looking forward to participating in raising the house, but I'd already committed to three or more clients on Grand Isle. An ideal crew would be 12 workers -- one at each chain hoist. I worked hard to reccruit and additional 7 or 8 people to help. Failure. The Mennonites were already short on labor this week. There were no volunteers in Dulac, nor at the Presbyterian volunteer village. There were no volunteers in Grand Isle. So I/we didn't come through on our part. Failure.
Andrew and his crew of 4 people pressed on. One works when one can. So the house waddled and wobbled its way skyward, people moving from hoist to hoist, to its final height of about 15 feet above sea level (12 feet above ground). There it sat in all its glory. The beams were tacked into place and will receive final welds next week. Success.
Congratulations were in order and were joyfully offered.
A picture is included. It's beautiful!

week 22, post 5b: pictures didn't load.

2006-05-07T14:23:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of the blessing of the boats--if they load right Peace, Warren

week 22, post 5: follow up to Ritagail's questions

2006-05-07T13:54:00.000-07:00

An answer to Ritagail's questions is in order:
Shrimp boats come in all sizes, from little 20-foot craft to giant 100-footers. The little boats fish close in, in shallow and/or confined spaces, and generally stay out 24 hours or less. There is no galley, no sleeping space, they are open to the weather, and -- the most limiting factor -- they can only hold so much shrimp -- several hundred pounds. The biggest boats fish offshore in deeper, more dangerous waters. They have a galley (with a cook), (tiny)places to sleep, and can store several thousand pounds of shrimp. They stay out a week or more. For all the boats, fishing for shrimp only works with an outgoing tide. This is especially true close in.

Fishing is still one of the most dangerous of professions. Several injuries, plus a few lost lives, would be typical of every fishing season. The many lines, plus winches and other gear, can quickly sever a finger or even a hand or arm. Storms come up suddenly and the boats, designed to be very shallow draft and maneuverable, can be capsized and sunk. Debris from the hurricanes or the petroleum industry or shipping litters the ocean floor. When nets snag in it, a boat will be jerked sideways and may capsize. This season will be especially dangerous. Every family is aware of these dangers as the fishermen head out.

The beginning of the shrimping season is marked by a prayer ceremony in each community called "The blessing of the fleet." Prayers are said for safety, for a bountiful harvest, for good prices, for the endurance of the families as they wait. At the blessing of the fleet, the boats are (often)decorated and they parade down the bayou, with families and friends on board in a festive mood. The local priest sprinkles each boat with holy water as it passes by. For some this may be seen as a relic of our superstitious past, but all are also quietly aware of the vulnerability of the fishermen, their families and the community which makes the blessing presence of the divine a longed-for comfort.

Peace, Warren.

week 22, post 4: the subversive nature of the Gospel

2006-05-07T13:20:00.000-07:00

"...for we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers..." The Gospel lived out is inevitably going to cause trouble/run into resistance. Here in the bayou communities it is strongly entrenched in the culture to have a high, thick boundary around the (extended) family and virtually no boundaries within the family system. This is a recipe for trouble on many levels and good therapy or social casework often encourages a revision of that. Separation and differentiation of individuals in a family is generally seen as healthy; not so here. So Bayou Grace makes trouble -- a little -- as we do our work. We're building healthy families; we're building community. The work is not without aggravations, risks, outright hardships. Causing trouble does not mean we're doing the Gospel; doing the Gospel does mean there will inevitably be some conflict. Pray for us, that we may indeed not lose heart in the work, that we will keep it always in mind that powers and principalities are the opponent, and that we will always be serpent wise and dove innocent in all we do. Peace, Warren

week 22, post 3: harvest

2006-05-05T21:01:00.000-07:00

The shrimpers have begun to bring in their initial catches. There are rules of etiquette around farmers and ranchers which I suspect may apply to shrimpers, too. Does one ask, "How is the catch?" Pastor Steve, from Chicago, and I were privileged to watch a fisherman unloading his catch today. First they are sorted on the back deck of the boat, removing all unwanted fish -- crabs, minnows, eels, trout, flounder, etc. Then they are sorted by size; the large shrimp bring the highest price per pound, the little popcorn shrimp the lowest. The catch this year has initially been "ok," but size is small and prices are low. Discouraging. The shrimper and his crew were talking animatedly with the processor in French -- the native tongue for both.
Photos are included. The one shrimp in my hand was a big one. Notice the long and very sharp horn on top of the shrimp's head. A fisherman's hands must be very tough.
Peace, Warren.

week 22, post 2: a what is where?

2006-05-05T20:49:00.000-07:00

This week we've had a crew of 4 volunteers from Chicago here doing restoration work. They've been staying at Pastor Kelly's and Julie's house. This morning they all were surprised to discover a gator had come to visit in the night and was camped under their van! It was about a 5-footer. After a photo session they called the gator man who came and captured it, to be released well away from the Houma neighborhood. Amazing! A photo is included. I will post another blog soon about our volunteer guests and our visit to New Orleans.
Peace, Warren.

week 22, post 1, Here we go!

2006-05-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

This is it. Shrimp season starts tomorrow. It's been an early Spring and the shrimp are moving. Initially planned to start May 15, the DNR has reviewed the conditions and has moved the date up a week -- tomorrow at noon the boats will drop their nets into the water and begin catching these little delicacies we all enjoy so much. The bayou is alive with activity and anticipation! Preparations have been accelerated, too! Imagine if Christmas came sometime in December and God (maybe he did!)on the 13th moved it from the 25th to the 17th! I'll post more later. Peace, Warren.

Week 21, post 1:The hard work of healing

2006-04-24T19:36:00.000-07:00

In our carelessness with language -- dangerous, by the way -- we often use the words "work," "job" and "vocation" interchangeably. This is a big mistake. One's "work" is really an inner process first, and is subsequently manifested in the material world. So one's "work" often means first finding/becoming oneself, or learning one's creativity, or one's gentleness or fierceness, or parenthood, or whatever. Of course the real way this is usually done is by "praxis;" develop it a little bit, then try it as expression, then go back and work on oneself some more, then try it again, etc. Part of the "work" of the psychotherapist is to cultivate uncertainty -- not knowing. In Zen this is called "Beginner's Mind." The great masters would work for years, decades, at becoming "beginners." Jesus said the same thing as he instructed that only the "little ones" could enter the kingdom. It could really frost the great masters, or the learned ones, when a genuine beginner would have "beginner's mind" -- something the veterans had worked hard for decades to attain. But usually it is the new converts and shallow thinkers in spiritual matters who have all the answers -- not only for themselves but for everyone else as well. Since most of the time I have no idea what I'm doing, I must be getting close....

Discipline yourself -- think carefully. Think deeply. It's worth it. Rare, but worth it. Religion certainly has a place for passion, but not at the expense of disciplined thought and scholarship. These faculties are not mutually exclusive. And emotionalISM is just that...

Beware of Quakers driving Hummers with W stickers on the window. And beware of Baptists driving old Corollas with Free Tibet on the back...

Peace, Warren.

week 20, post 1: the ministry

2006-04-18T18:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not just here to play. I care deeply about my work. It isn't easy to write about it here -- confidentiality concerns, etc. But it is the heart of the reason I'm here. My adventures with "Cajunization" are part and parcel of the work. Appreciation of and enjoyment of the culture is essential to any counseling process. But here is a little summary of where I am now:
I have an active counseling caseload of about 16 cases or so. None have terminated so far; one is inactive. So I'm seeing about 7-8 people per week -- terrible performance when judged against clinical office standards. But I'm moving about a lot -- many house calls -- so this is not too bad. I'm also active at marketing our services, consulting and supervising casework, building teamwork and an institution, educating volunteers. So I'm staying busy. My typical workday is from 9 to 9. Some examples of my cases include: a middle-aged man with lifelong clinical depression who is going through a divorce. The family of a 7-year old boy who was traumatized by the flooding. A woman who was traumatized by medical problems as a child, and has consequent anxiety issues. A blending family with long term stresses over parenting. A pre-teen who has ADD/HD and is being bullied at school.
I love this work, wherever I'm doing it. Whenever people ask me about how it's going I say, "It's tough. And it's going very well." Both are true. I continue to need your prayers and support. Thank you so much. Peace, Warren

week 19, post 1: another mini-play

2006-04-10T19:44:00.000-07:00

Scene: in front of an elevated trailer home down Pointe aux Chenes
Action: I pull up in front of the house and get out of the truck. An older man comes to the door:

W: good morning!
M: Bonjour!

W: Um, is Carey here?
M: Non, il est allez a travailler.

w: um, um, do you know when he will be back?
M: Non, je ne sais pas. Possible six heures.

w: um, um, does Carey have a cell phone?
M; Non.

w:Um, well, um, Merci.
M: Pas de quois.

W: um, Au Revoir.
M: Au Revoir.

Ain't America wonderful!
Peace, Warren.

week 18, post 4: more encounters with the sacred

2006-04-08T18:35:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, Lynda Kelley and I accompanied a group of volunteers from Buffalo, N.Y. to Grand Isle to do some recovery work. The labor of the volunteers on a physical plane is truly a gift to all of those who are suffering. They did repair & restoration carpentry on the tourism office. Hurricane Katrina had, among other things, ripped the doors off their hinges. The group then took an afternoon break and took a short boat ride into the estuary. Wayne, our guide, told the volunteers about the shrimping, the fight to save the wetlands, the history of the fort on the island, privateer Jean Lafitte, and other marvels of the area. He then took us by the porpoise nursery. Yes, there they were: two mother& child pairs of porpoises. The little ones where tight by their mothers' sides -- fin to fin. Our guide said this indicated they were newborns! (at about 1 month, the youngsters would be at about 3' from mom). What an awesome sight. Alas! I have no pictures of the fleeting sight!
When volunteers come, they also give the residents another gift: the gift of listening, learning, appreciating, respecting, enjoying. Even if they never picked up a hammer or a saw, much would have been accomplished. Buildings and hearts have been broken here, but pity is never helpful. These Cajuns have much to give, and to receive from them in humility and gratitude is to bless.
Please remember that. You also do not have to travel miles and miles to distant places to give the gifts of attention, appreciation, enjoyment, etc.
Peace, Warren.

week 18, post 3: celebrating a culture

2006-04-08T18:13:00.000-07:00

A week ago last Saturday there was a Zydeco fest at Nichols State University; put on through the University to celebrate, nurture and preserve this music. Sunday night I traveled to NO to a little club called Tippitino's with Ray Kaufman to go Cajun dnacing. Last Tuesday we held a fundraiser for our Bayou Grace programs and Cajun musicians performed. Last night I went back to the Jolly Inn for the fais do-do with groups of volunteers from Vermont and New York State (Buffalo area). At all of these events I witnessed young, old and middle age people dancing to the music. Many gray-hairs have made this a real art-form and enjoy it immensely. This is not something I witness with any regularity in the Midwest. We're missing something! The name of one of the groups that performed at Nichols State and at our fundraiser is called Treater.Their named is derived from the French, "Traiteur," meaning one who treats (illnesses). Their name was carefully chosen for its roots in Cajun culture and to bear witness to the healing power of music (and dance!)

week 18, post 2: sacred spaces

2006-04-04T12:30:00.000-07:00

All of us know places/spaces where we encounter the holy. For some of us it might even be in a church or a place in the "Holy Land." For many of us it is in nature, where the handiwork of the creator is evident. Last week my host, Andrew, and I went to the sweetwater/blackwater/freshwater swamp over north of Morgan City. Amid the thousand year old (or older) cypress trees and the wondrous beauty of the swamp, Andrew and I both certainly experienced ourselves in the presence of the sacred, something beyond ourselves or what man might build. Andrew, who proclaims himself atheist, was certainly evangelistic about what we beheld. He wants to carry the whole world to this place, to share the experience with everyone, so they might wonder at its breathtaking beauty, as did we. Andrew owns a little houseboat, which has been crippled by the hurricane. As soon as it is "seaworthy" again, he wants to run houseboat tours of this truly marvelous place. We wandered the swamp for several hours, touched deeply by its beauty and privileged to share the experience. Reread Psalms 8. Attached are some photos. Peace, Warren.

week 17, post 4: enough said

2006-03-30T15:17:00.000-08:00

This graffiti is on a window sill in the French Quarter. It makes me smile, and remember. Peace, Warren.

week 17, post 3: Shrimpers and Farmers

2006-03-30T14:57:00.000-08:00

I continue to be impressed with the many parallels in the lives of the shrimpers and farmers. During the winter/off season, equipment is torn down, inspected, rebuilt. Equipment failure can cost thousands of dollars, at best, and lives at worst. Like farmers, shirmpers must be their own mechanics most of the time. Now is the time when the shrimpers are most busy on their gear. Our next door neighbor has a small/mid sized Lafitte skiff with skimmer nets. This year, he and his companions have removed them from the water, maintained the hulls, nets and engines. They are quite a sight sitting on stands in the yard. In a couple of weeks, they will be back in the water, running shakedowns, in readiness for the beginning of the season, about May 15.
Peace, Warren.

week 17, post 2: A prophetic voice

2006-03-22T18:44:00.000-08:00

I wanted to share with y'all a quote from one of our most insightful prophets: farmer/poet Wendell Berry:

"Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy."

I pray that as I offer myself as an instrument of peace in this place, all of us will similarly commit ourselves to live under the self-imposed laws of justice and mercy wherever we are privileged to serve. And remember: all knowing is subjective.

week 17, post 1: a little initiation

2006-03-21T18:18:00.000-08:00

Cajunization just can't happen suddenly; it's a gradual thing that has to mellow, to be savored. It's best done in stages so one is not overwhelmed by the sensuality of the experience. Eating crawfish is one of those profound initiatory events along the way. Crawfish etouffe is a marvelous dish. But the real initiation is boiled. These wonderful delicacies are springtime food. Now they're in season, and one sees Cajuns and others fishing for them in roadside ditches everywhere. But the best ones come from the real freshwater swamps in the Atchafalaya basin, where old timers continue to harvest crawfish by the millions from these dark waters. It's a messy business, but I'm so glad for them. Yes, I even sucked out the heads! Bon Appetit!

week 16, post 3: A micro-play

2006-03-14T13:06:00.000-08:00

Scene: Saturday morning, Andrew and Christine's FEMA Trailer
Andrew to Warren: Now don't tell me you was out clear till midnight counseling and doing paperwork!
Warren: No! It was the Quakers! I fell among Quakers at their encampment up at the Pentecostal Church! They kidnapped me and carried me with them all the way to Houma to the Jolly Inn, where they made me dance with them and play the rub board! They kept going and going and wouldn't stop -- all of us stone cold sober!
Andrew: harumph, harumph!

week 16, post 2: Teamwork

2006-03-14T12:43:00.000-08:00

Kelly, Linde, Courtney, Elaine and I continue to become better and better as a team. Elaine and I try to stay close to the ground, close to the clients in need. Linda organizes and distributes resources. Courtney and Kelly do more administration -- building the healthcare and community institutions so badly needed. Courtney and I are expanding some of our activities -- reaching out and teaching visiting volunteers from all over America about the bayou culture and environment. It is awfully bold of me to think I can or should even attempt to interpret this area or its people. I'm an outsider and should never forget that. But what can I say? I'm Baptist through and through -- passionate and evangelistic about this wonderful place and its people. I'm also very afraid -- afraid that without help -- advocacy help from these many visitors -- that this wonderful land and its people will be abandoned to the sea, forever. I want the visitors to go back home not just with a feeling of satisfaction for having rehabbed a building, but with an ongoing mission to rehab a coastline, an estuary, to protect a precious part of America and the people who live there. I'm posting a photo of Elaine, our teammate. Peace, Warren.

week 16, post 1

2006-03-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

Here's one that doesn't need a whole lot of words. Amazing creatures. Estimate it to be about 5' We saw about 9 more that day. Peace, Warren

week 15, post 4: more pictures

2006-03-08T19:05:00.000-08:00

Here are more pictures. Peace, Warren.

week 15, post 3: Work continues

2006-03-08T18:51:00.000-08:00

While I attend to emotional and spiritual needs, work continues on damaged homes in my neighborhood. 11,000 dwellings were damaged in Terrebonne Parish by Katrina and Rita. A neighbor had his trailer home lifted from its mountings and dumped onto the ground, shattering it. The flood waters then consumed it. A work crew arrived this week from one town in North Carolina, representing many churches. One member even joked he was a "Branch Davidian." (I believe he is actually Unitarian). These men are working like "men posessd." (which they are -- they belong to the Holy Spirit) If they continue on schedule, they will complete most of the house structure in a week. With a great deal less flair and spectacle, they will match a lot of what "extreme makeover" does. And they will impact the well being of a family just as much. Many thanks to these caring men.

Week 15, post 2: Domicile levitation

2006-03-07T16:24:00.000-08:00

We're getting ready to lift my hosts' house. There are many ways to engineer such a feat: multiple pilings, chain hoists and girders is one of them. Here are a few pictures. Hopefully, within 2 weeks I will show pictures of the house lifting underway, and completed. We're all eager. Peace, Warren.

week 15, post 1: When Birds Play

2006-03-07T16:17:00.000-08:00

All of us say that we are awed/delighted to watch eagles soar. Truly they are magnificent aloft, and the rarity of the sight adds to the sense of awe. But I have also been awed here by the sight of the white pelicans soaring, sometimes by the score. They are surely at play as they soar so high above the water, and they are magnificent flyers. I'm sorry that I do not have pictures of them to share with you, but they are at great altitudes as they wheel and dive aloft. This activity is surely play for them -- pure pleasure. And it is pleasurable for me to witness it. The eagles have their match for grace aloft in the white pelicans.
Peace, Warren.

week 14, post 3: a visit from journalists

2006-03-01T18:24:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, after all the Mardi Gras festivities, our team was honored by a visit from journalists with the Orphan Grain Train ministry. They have been providers of much of the food and other relief supplies distributed through GLC to Katrina and Rita victims. One of the OGT members to visit us was Seth Kaiser, who currently operates a "volunteer camp" in New Orleans. Seth has some incredible stories to tell, from the viewpoint of the victims, the immediate responders and the late arriving volunteers. The journalists interviewed team members at the home of the Pellegrins, in Chauvin. On many occasions I have been useful as a listener. This time I and others were listened to. We were all eager to tell our stories, and it was healing to tell them. It reminds me how very much careful listening heals and empowers. Strange, isn't it, how I would forget that!

The OGT journalists will take our material and put it into a video documentary. I hope to share it with many someday. We got some beautiful footage of the marsh at sunset, plus shrimp boats, barges and all that surrounds Houma. And, as if just on cue, while they were doing the marsh video, Mr. Alligator showed up to get his picture taken, too. Right there in our fishing hole. About 5 feet of him. Right there where we go fishing. Yup. Right there in our fishing hole.
Peace, Warren.

week 14, post 2 additional pics

2006-03-01T18:08:00.000-08:00

Here are some additional Mardi Gras Pictures:

another try at pictures

2006-03-01T10:07:00.000-08:00

I think the pictures made it this time. Peace, Warren

pictures

2006-03-01T09:59:00.000-08:00

week 14, post 1Mardi Gras

2006-03-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

There are certain things I want to do at least once in life...more than once is uncertain. I've been through my first Mardi Gras SEASON here in Houma. There are 11 or so parades, over a period of 10 days. The biggie was yesterday. It was hot, loud, crowded, raucous. I've collected about 25# of beads and trinkets -- a very modest haul -- strictly beginner. Now, what does one do with 25+ pounds of this stuff -- per year? My prize beads are a string with little white boots (Cajun Reeboks), the kind worn by shrimpers, and blue crabs. The parade was definitely, I think, one of those events that go better with lots to drink--which I didn't. But I've done it, lived to tell about it, and it was lots of fun. The local residents dedicated themselves, as usual, to making sure I had a good time -- Cajun hospitality. I took my little sidekick, Sissy, with me. She did not have such a good time (just look at a crowd from one foot up), but she did like the hot dogs for lunch. Pictures are posted. Peace, Warren.

week 13, post 1 -- the work of the Spirit

2006-02-20T19:51:00.000-08:00

When I first came here, I intended to do counseling -- that's all. But I quickly came to see that what was needed was something that would last, and that the counseling be part of something bigger, more comprehensive. As the awareness of that emerged, I also began to meet people who could/would be part of that something bigger. Courtney Pellegrin, a very dynamic young woman from this area, has all the right qualities for leadership: a passion to serve her people, a deep connection to these communities, administrative skills and a body young enough to work hard for long periods. Elaine Savoie, a local housewife and businesswoman, has worked tirelessly doing direct care of victims/evacuees since day one. She has a gift for the "infantry," doing face to face casework with people in need. So a mission and a team are emerging: to launch and sustain "community care centers" down each bayou. These will do prenatal care, early childhood education, low-tech medical care and outpatient drug/alcohol treatment and counseling. I'll post a couple of pics of the team.

And I want to leave you with a quote from one of my favorite poets, Wendell Berry:

"Rats and roaches live by competition under the laws of supply and demand; it is the privilege of human beings to live under the laws of justice and mercy."
Wendell Berry

week 12, post 5 -- Cajun Gourmet

2006-02-17T13:12:00.000-08:00

I have learned that Cajuns rarely eat out. If they do so, they rarely go to Cajun/seafood restaurants. When I've dined out with Cajuns, I often hear the comment regarding the delicious food we're having: "I (or my dad)can do better at home." It is common for Cajun men to take great pride in their cooking -- a practice entirely confusing to me. The other night, Mr Darrell whipped up a pot of "Poisson Rouge en Sauce Piquant." (Redfish in Red(Marinara) Sauce) No big deal to Mr. Darrell -- it was "to die for." I'm beginning to understand.

week 12, post 4 -- tragedy and compassion in action

2006-02-17T12:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon I received some very bad news from Cindy, our host: George's trailer home, positioned next to mine on their property, had caught fire and burned. Everything George owned, except for his car, was destroyed. That evening I went back home and saw it for myself. Heartbreaking. I went by the little baptist church, where the mennonites were staying to do their relief work, and told them about it.

At 8:15 this morning a van load and two pickups of the mennonite work crew arrived ready to help. Ignoring the swarming, biting gnats, they pitched into their work and had the area cleaned up as well as possible by 8:40. These compassionate people, conservative and traditional in their personal lifestyles, are wonderfully liberal in their practice of tolerance, kindness and generosity. They steadfastly refuse to allow "conservative" to mean greedy, bigoted and intolerant, as it has so often come to mean in American life.

Once again, my hat is off to the Mennonites. I will post a picture or two of George's trailer. I was unable to get a photo of the Mennonites at work, but I suppose that is OK; they were not there to gain praise or recognition. Please pray for George; this kind of loss really hurts.

Peace, Warren