Did you have a Spiritual Awakening?

Even worse when those who cannot discuss religion without being insulting are in complete denial of their own actions.

Yes, of course, I've always appreciated your avoidence of insults, especially the ones directed at me solely due to my being an atheist.

snood, "insulting" a proposition, assertion or position is quite another thing than directly and personally insulting one presenting that which is disparagingly criticized. Assume whatever mantle you find to your suiting - no one drafts martyrs, they volunteer.

Dys:


You show up on a thread about spiritual experience to supply one-liners about getting high, and to attack me.

I don't insult you because you're an atheist - I couldn't possibly care any less about what you choose to do with what's left of your life, Dys. I have insulted you because I have no respect for you and your penchant for going to any length to make nothing sacred, and everything about another cute Dys "diss".


To anyone who was thinking of posting here about something that they considered to be a spiritual experience in their lives - I apologize that the thread is taking a turn toward becoming just another personal tit-for-tat. I will try to post about what I originally intended, and maybe those who have a beef with me will tire of trolling for a pissing contest.

Why do you troll the religious and spiritual threads - you don't believe in any of it - what do you hope to offer?

snood.
I'm just curious. Can you see the sense in timberlandko's two last posts?


Btw, I think this thread is turning into a very spiritual experience, in that we are seeing a diversity of ideas in sharp contrast.

That snood, who's sole function seem's to be some kind of theistic attack dog, snood, whom frequently substitutes personal attack for cogent response, should whine about negativity and ad hom....
...is ironic comedy of the highest order

Just like clockwork...


There is sort of an asymmetrical, clanging kind of beauty in it all, though - I think I can see that, Cyracuz.

I wanted to tell a story about the power of prayer here, but it is definitive pearls before definitive... well, y'all get the idea.

Okay, the coast appears clear for the moment....



My 12 step group practices a tradition called the "God Box". It's just a box of one's own construction - mine was a tupperware container with a slot cut into the top, and the sides decorated with construction paper...

The idea is to write out the things in your life that you are at impasse with, and put them in the box. The last time I did it, a couple years ago, I put slips of paper in the box with my concerns on them about my smoking habit, my sex life, an automobile I was upside-down on, and (I think) a situation at work...

Also the idea is that even we who believe in prayer have a hard time "turning things over" and letting them go, so that this was a visual, tactile representation of doing just that. Once in the "God Box", it was out of your hands, is the idea...

I admit feeling a little silly and skeptical. But I figured I had attacked these issues in every way I knew how, so this couldn't hurt.

Within 6 months, I had gotten positive movement in all those areas - a new personal relationship with a lot of physical affection, a brand new car (the circumstances that co-incidented to end me up in a new car were really wild), I will celebrate 2 years smoke free in July, and the work situation lightened up appreciably soon after, as well.

I had been shown the power of faithful prayer before, but this was a new reminder to me that I can ask for help, and get it.

What do you think about that?

I wonder why God was so concerned about you getting regular sex and a car when somewhere, all over the world, mothers and fathers are on their knees, begging God to spare their child's life.

For one thing.

Another would be writing down your requests and putting them in a container was an act that woke up your subconscious to your desires/needs. You saw signs you weren't looking for before. You tripped your own tracking device that led to those realities. You believed in the recesses of your mind that those things would be done for you--and they were--by you.

That's one interpretation, anyway.

Actually...you MAY NOT have been shown the power of faithful prayer by all this...at all.

You MAY have been shown the power of SELF-DETERMINATION...and the power of focusing your energy on dealing with problems in your life.

There is really no way to determine if any results obtained happened because of prayer...or because of self-focus and intense personal determination to finally rid yourself of the problems with which you were dealing.

An agnostic or atheists can do much the same thing...(AND I HAVE) using techniques developed in Zen and/or consciousness expansion disciplines such as EST...to make symbolic guestures regarding problems that persist (like writing them out and putting them in a box or bag)...

...and dealing with them on that basis.

The "prayer" aspect...the "god giving help" aspect....MAY NOT EXIST AND MAY NOT BE A FACTOR.

That is not to say IT IS NOT A FACTOR...but that it MAY NOT BE a factor.

You simply cannot find out by doing the experiment you described...and while I appreciate that you suppose you are being shown the power of prayer in these instances...I suggest you may not be.

Snood-I agree with Lash and Frank. I think that you marshalled your inner forces, and therefore were able to focus on what you needed doing to change your life.............and did it.

During a time of great travail, I was into yoga, meditation and visualization. The difference was, I took all of the credit for the good that it did for me.

I think that the main difference between the way that you and I would perceive the issue of dealing with difficulties, is that you are outer directed, whereas I am inner directed. Therefore, I am able to take the all the credit (or the blame) for the outcomes. I find that concept a lot more empowering than looking outside of onesself for answers.

Interesting - I can respect your opinions.

I was trying to put myself in the shoes of someone predisposed not to believe in prayer, and trying to imagine what I would say to someone who did believe. I couldn't conjur a motive for telling that person that he wasn't believing or thinking right - moreso I think I would be of the attitude of "whatever works". Different strokes.

As far as the very true assessment that God has better things to do than answering personal, selfish requests - I agree. I happen to think that God answers prayers how he wants, when he wants - it all sort of goes back to that troublesome faith thing. Suffice it to say I think God has a better view of the big picture than I do, and that he does care.

Having that asked and answered, does anyone else have experiences they'd like to share that they themselves considered of a spiritual nature?

I must have misunderstood. When you asked "what do you think of that?", I thought you wanted to know literally what people thought of your experience. It seems you were just wanting support. I'm sure if that's what you want, several members would be glad to give it to you, if you frame your questions differently.

No, I wanted to know what you (plural) thought. You told me, and I told you how I thinkI would have reacted if asked the same thing.

I came to my faith somewhat late in life. To understand it, you need to understand a little about the background that led up to my discovering God. (He was there all along; I just refused to see him.)

My father was a non-practicing Italian Catholic who hated the church. My mother was raised in the Church of England but had become an agnostic as her life had unfolded. My parents did not have myself nor my sister baptized, nor did they bring my sister or I to either church. I grew up in a home where thinking was encouraged and love flowed from our parents to we kids, so we never felt anything missing. I became a hardcore cynical atheist that needed to quantify everything; I needed empirical proof before I believed anything. I used to say "Sure, I'll believe in God, just let him prove that he exists… just have him cough once for me and I'll buy this whole religion thing.

My father died when I was fifteen and this led me to even greater anger at the world as a whole. Because of my father's family, we had to have a Catholic funeral (Which I KNEW would have pissed my dad off, but for family unity, I didn't make a huge stink about it.) Standing in that great cathedral, listening to a man in the black robes speak about a man he never knew made me want to scream at him to get his God's ass down here to answer for my dad's death.

You can see that I had a lot of anger issues at that time.

Several years later, I joined the U.S. Army. During Basic Training, I injured my knee and ankle. They hurt like hell, but I knew if I reported to the medics, I would have been put on medical profile and probably would have been recycled. (Sent to another Basic Training unit to repeat Basic Training once I healed.) I chose to suck up the pain, wrap my knee and ankle and soldier on until I could graduate.

Well, one dark and lonely night, a member of our unit had a few hundred dollars stolen from his locker. This is considered a bad thing anywhere, but in the service it is considered a VERY bad thing among men with guns who are supposed to trust one another. Numerous opportunities were given for the responsible party to return the money… no dice. So the Drill Sergeants decided to grind it out of us.

At 1 a.m. on a hot Fort Sill, Oklahoma night, our Drills proceeded to P.T. (Physical training: hundreds of sit ups, push ups, squat thrusts, grass drills, etc.) us unto the ground. I hadn't had time to wrap my knee or ankle so they were already hurting when we got to the PT sand pit. After an hour of PT, I was in such pain, I can't describe. By the third hour, I wanted to die. I could barely bend my knee to run in place. And when I did, it was like all the fires of hell. No one knew when they would stop if ever. There was no one to help me get through the pain since all my buddies were barely holding it together themselves. I was alone, just me and my pain. It was then that I did something I'd never done before…

I called out to God to help me.

I didn't demand. I didn't make sarcastic comments about Him showing me a burning bush. I didn't dare Him to turn my orange juice into Captain Morgan Rum. In my pain and despair I just called out to Him to please help me.

The next part is hard to explain. You see, our family was always very demonstrative in its affection. Even at 14 or 15, I never felt embarrassed about giving my parents a hug goodnight and as we grew up, when we did something noteworthy, you could be sure that my father would be on hand to pick us up with a huge loving hug.

So I find myself running in place at 3:30 a.m. in a sand pit when I call out to the God I'd denied for so long. For the first time in my life, I'd called to Him in sincerity to help me. That's when I felt it. For a moment, it could have been longer or shorter, I really couldn't say. For that frozen moment in time, it felt like a hug from my father. It felt like he kind of hug he gave me when I was little, where he would pick me up and for a time, I felt like nothing could ever hurt me.

That's when I knew. Did God make a noise? No. Did He show himself to me? Nope. Did He show me a miracle? Not really. When that moment was over, I was STILL in that sand pit; my knee still hurt like blazes, but I knew. He was there with me. I got through that night because I wasn't alone anymore. Since then, no matter where I went in life, no matter how alone I seemed, I knew that He was there with me. I used to stand guard duty over the armoury with a smile on my face because I knew that God was guarding my flank. I started going to the chapel and had some long talks with the Army Chaplain. I was baptized and my new life started that day.

Since that time, even though I don't go to any specific church now, I am secure in my Faith because I KNOW.

Or as my favourite Bible verse goes:

Luke 7:1-10

[1] When Jesus had finished saying all this in the hearing of the people, he entered Capernaum. [2] There a centurion's servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. [3] The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant. [4] When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, "This man deserves to have you do this, [5] because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue." [6] So Jesus went with them.
He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: "Lord, don't trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. [7] That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. [8] For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, 'Go,' and he goes; and that one, 'Come,' and he comes. I say to my servant, 'Do this,' and he does it."
[9] When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, "I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel." [10] Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.


Like the Centurion, I do not need to see God or proof of his existence, I just KNOW.

That's powerful stuff, Fedral, and believe it or not, I know exactly that feeling of absolute assurance and comfort. Without words, it is as if someone says with a warm hug "No matter what happens, death or life or anything in between, no harm will come to you - you will be alright."

Thank you so much for sharing that. I have had that feeling twice in my life. One of the times was in desperate straits, like you said, and earnestly asking for help - without guile or ulterior thought.

No offence, but how do you know it wasn't just a feeling? Or doesn't it matter?

That's right ros-it doesn't matter.One respects everybody's way of dealing with these things.

NO "one" doesn't, some things deserve respect and some things don't.