The Power of Touch

Ok, so I just had a huge "God" moment while reading about the power of touch.

I was reading an article about the use of intentional touch in the nursing field. Apparently there is a practice of intentional touch called hand and foot care, especially useful with populations who are "touch starved" (homeless, migrate workers, disabled, elderly,etc.).

When I read an anecdote of a nurse bandaging the wounded feet of a homeless man at a shelter I immediately thought of our Savior washing the feet of his disciples, during the now famous Lord's Supper, prior to his execution.

As one who is fascinated with the Lord Supper phenomenon (Jesus radicalized Passover!) because I feel that American Christians have lost the true meaning of the "remembrance" of this sacrament; I thought I had studied this practice from every point of view...until today.

When I was a youth and college minister, I tried to exemplify humility, compassion, and respect to my students by initiating each group with a "washing of the feet" ceremony. I, as their minister, was humbling myself before them in order to express to them that they are valued by Christ and therefore valued by me. It was always a very emotional and extremely bonding experience. Probably a reason why I am still in contact with many of my former students to this day. :)

It was also beneficial to me. Not because I am so amazing to have humbled myself before them, so "Look at me!"...No. It was because I felt connected to them in a way I had not before. We were bonded...in a physical, psychological, social, and spiritual act. This is why I think foot washing was deemed a sacrament.

Yet, I never thought of what Jesus may have received from his experience of washing the disciples' feet. The rest of his life from that point forward is lived in seclusion and loneliness. It is the only point in Scripture where, the community of who God is, is literally divided. God is separated from God in Jesus' death on the cross. What could sustain a fully human/fully God being, who has chosen to suppress his deity in order to experience true humanity, to endure an unjustified torture and death for those who are either absent, cheering on his death, or unconcerned?! Could it possibly be the psychological, biological, social and spiritual benefit he received in the foot washing? Was it that bonding experience that caused him to continue on, even when feeling totally abandoned and betrayed enough to yell out "Father, why have you forsaken me?!"

As I continue to learn more about the psychobiological benefits of touch in my studies, I inevitability filter it through my theological training and my intense fascination with the concept with true community. It is truly a mind-blowing, yet simply beautiful thing to see God's hand in it all. We are truly designed by God to be in community with God and to be in community with each other.

One day I hope I can open a clinic for the touch starved so they may receive hand and foot touch therapy. What a vehicle through which to share God's love and to receive God's love from those who feel they have nothing to offer the world.

Just my thoughts today while working on my ethics paper...Had to get it out of my head and on paper so I wouldn't forget. :) I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I'll have more on this later... :)


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Good Friday

It is Good Friday today. The paradox of that statement is interesting. The tragedy of Jesus' horrific death allows us all to have life everlasting. Through his greatest suffering and sacrifice, God showed us unimaginable love and grace...a perfect reminder that sometimes what we consider tragedy is really a blessing to be later realized.

This is my Facebook status today. I thought it was worth publishing here. 

Practical Spirituality

A friend of mine and my former counselor, Dr. Wes Eades, has a blog called Practical Spirituality
He recently posted an article called A Way Back to Soul. I was touched by the content within this article series. I posted a comment to Part 5 of this series (and on previous parts of this series) and decided to share with you my response. It is included below. I would encourage you to visit his site and read it for yourself. If you would, comment here to share with me your thoughts on this topic that he approaches with such gentleness.

Thank you, Wes, for sharing this with us.

My response:

WOW! What a wonderful blog article, Wes!
I have so many thoughts on all of this, but I will just answer your question posed: Who, if anyone, has ever told you about “door number 3″?

While at East Texas Baptist University, I had a professor who took me under his wing simply because he felt called to, I suppose. The relationship that developed has been one that has impacted and continues to influence my life.

He was the one who posed the question to me concerning whether or not there was another option in viewing God than the two you presented above, of which were presented to me in church, as well.

I can definitely say that Door Number 3 does not lead to a road marked with definite road signs and lots of warm sunshine. I have experienced lots of fog, clouds, rain, and storms along this road. But I’ve never felt without God’s presence and after every storm, the rainbow of God’s promise always beacons me forward.
What I have learned thus far is: Through great suffering comes the capacity for greater happiness, love, joy and grace.

We have been called as Christians to live an adventurous life not a sheltered one. As Henri Nouwen states, “We are called to live in a house of faith and not of fear.”

Being sheltered to me states that we are afraid of something. Faith walking is not about having faith that God will protect us from suffering, but instead it is about having faith that God will be with us when we do.

Thank you for the post, Wes.
Always a pleasure.

Mobile Blogging

So I just found a free app on my phone that allows me to blog anytime, anywhere! :)
Hopefully, this will help me to update my blogs more often.

Here's hoping!


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I'm in the People Business

I have been SO busy lately! I know you all are surprised by this announcement. :)

Recently, I began working as the Social Media Blogger/Writer for a local health insurance brokerage firm, Custom Health Plans (check out the blog!). In addition to working on my PhD, raising two young children, and now this job; I am hoping to begin promoting myself as a professional blogger/writer and communicator.

Why? you may ask...

Why not? is my reply. :)

I realize that time is limited, but we have amazing vehicles of mass communication through the use of social media and online technologies.

Recently, I have felt the restraints of time and responsibilities impeding my ability to reach my personal, existential goals. Recognizing that my current situation is required for now, I have decided to use the tools at my disposal to try to cast a line into the larger pool of life I intend to reach once my educational pursuits are completed.

So what is my hook?

My hook is: I'm in the People Business!

I care about people. Unfortunately, I am one person who cares for SO many! How can I possibly positively impact and encourage the global community of people in which I feel called to work, live and play?

This is where the tools of social media and online technology come to the rescue!

So what is my bait/lure? What do I uniquely offer the global community?

I have a deep desire to motivate people to experience true community with others; to leave a lasting, meaningful legacy; to promote social justice and equality; and to live an authentic life.

Up until recently, I did not understand how my eclectic background, comprised of theological and psychological education and training; along with my skills in communication (via oral, written, and visual mediums) would eventually compliment each other and lead me down the path so many from my past have predicted I would walk.

With interests in psychology, religion, social media, communication, and online technologies; and passions for music, dancing, socializing, and entertainment; I try to live as a life-long learner, while embracing my love for laughter.

In recent days I have experienced the gifts of grace, trust, and service. I have always tried to be the one who offered these elements of friendship and love to others; never truly receiving it in return. It is amazing how humility and arrogance can sometimes go hand in hand. The arrogance displayed in my desire to help, without being helped, fostered a perception of independence and self-assuredness that I do not have nor can I maintain.

When people describe me, I have heard many descriptors, such as:

Intimidating

Passionate

Driven

Independent

Intelligent

Vocal

Stubborn

Strong

Determined

Roots for the Underdog

Goal-Oriented

Whether good or bad, these traits are really good when motivating or communicating to a large crowd; but how do these translate in the day to day relationships and communities therein?

This is why I say I am in the PEOPLE business, not the PERSON business. I am not diminishing the importance of the individual, but rather, I am illuninating the importance of the community.

Ultimately, I am only an individual within a global community. But with the use of tools that can either foster or diminish genuine interpersonal communication, I hope to foster a vehicle of communication that will motivate the global community to look outside of themselves, to reach out to those within their grasp, to utilize their inherent uniqueness, to find the proper tools, and to take an active role in a community that is at their fingertips...a community in which your gifts, talent, passions, and interests are needed and valued...a community to which you can give but from which you can also receive...

Too good to be true? Maybe.

But we will never know until we try.

I finally got my hands on the Mother's Day Sermon and the Lord's Supper Sermon I preached at Lakeway Baptist Church over the past couple of years. I will try my best to upload the audio on the blog by the first of the year.

Please invite your friends to follow or subscribe to this blog,

follow me on Twitter http://twitter.com/dallasblogger
or on Facebook at htttp://www.facebook.com/buchanan.brandi

Christmas Memoir: 9846 Deepwoods Drive

As we approach the holidays, I recall a memoir I wrote in 2006 about Christmas at my childhood home.
I thought I would share it on my updated blog...

9846 Deepwoods Drive

Beside my brother, Wes, with his platinum blonde hair standing straight up as it did every morning, I stood in the entry of the hallway looking into the room in which we usually sat and watched television. However, today it was transformed into a magical escape from normality…it was Christmas morning. In the early morning light, except for the twinkling of the lights strung on the tree, the room was still dark and quiet…almost forbidden. Around the tree, Santa had left gifts for all of us. Santa’s gifts were never wrapped so the surprise was instantaneous, as if in a blink of an eye presents had appeared. The stockings hung above the fireplace were stuffed with my favorite candy, lottery tickets (Santa must not be Baptist) and sometimes things like socks.


We knew not to open any presents before Momma and Poppa were with us. Wes always made sure everyone was up so that the gift-getting could begin, by jumping on beds and yelling, “Santa Clause came, Santa Clause came!” Too excited to put in my contacts, I would sit on the floor in my PJs and glasses with bed head and unbrushed teeth surrounded by the mounds of presents with my name written in the TO:__________ found on each gift tag.

Having no time to get ready herself, my mom would sit on the hearth of the fireplace in her robe, wearing glasses as well, drinking her morning coffee as the roaring fire warmed her back. Usually she would have her feet halfway in the fire, but on this morning she wanted to watch the show.

And it was a show. The Brown boys were entertainment bar none. I seemed to find myself sitting back and watching them, loving them for the joy they brought to the family with their quirks, genuine brotherly playfulness and hilarity.

As smells of Poppa’s hot chocolate and Momma’s monkey bread floated into the room and sound bites of A Christmas Story (Momma’s little piggy) played in the background, I savored every moment of these mornings.

When “the boys” were home, it felt most like family. If I had to describe it in one word it would be laughter. Though the saying went, “Poppa will do anything for a laugh,” when the boys were there, it was the heart-warming sound of my Poppa’s laughter that was most prevalent.

I remember one Christmas morning when Chris, my other brother, decided he would put on every gift he received right when he opened it. If it was a package of boxers, they went on over the pajamas he was currently wearing…one on top of the other. I believe by the time he finished opening all his presents he was wearing at least 3 hats, several shirts, a few boxers, a couple pair of pants, several packages of new socks, as he sat in a new fold-out chair all wrapped up in a new blanket with a big smile on his face.

I never felt as though I had the gift of comedy, though I appreciated it more than the gifts I received at Christmas. As a child, I did not see it this way, but as a teenager, I remember dreading this moment’s closing, when the boys would return to their mom’s house for Christmas dinner.

I knew the day and celebration was not over, for we would eat our Christmas dinner with Mammaw and share gifts together. But it was if there was a hole left when the boys “went home.”

Unlike other kids, I had several Christmas celebrations in December: with my dad, with my ex-step mother and brother and sister, with my Mom’s extended family and of course, “The Brown Family Christmas,” which was always celebrated on Christmas Eve. But nothing compared to Christmas morning at 9846 Deepwoods Dr.

I will always miss it…not Christmas, or the gifts, the food or even the house. I will miss the feeling of family we shared in those moments.

I guess as we grow up and we build our own family, we are able to carry with us what we loved about our childhood. I want to take with me the love of laughter.