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                              TRACKS IN THE SAND
                       UNCOVERING CHRISTIAN MEN'S ISSUES

                                On-line issue
                           Issue #3  - Dec 1992


Tracks in the Sand is in text file available on BBS's  CompuServe and America
On Line It is uploaded as TRACKV03.TXT, the number is the issue number and
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Computer Board           Address
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IN THIS ISSUE
=============
INTERVIEW WITH GORDON DALBEY
DON'T CURSE THE ROAD TO PARADISE
MY FATHER'S BLESSING
WHAT GROWS ON THE FAMILY TREE?
Poem: MY BROTHER'S ROOM

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DO REAL MEN GO TO CHURCH??

AN INTERVIEW WITH GORDON DALBEY


TRACKS: What pain, need, or wound do you see men facing today?

DALBEY: The basic pain I see is that most of us don't know where we belong in
the world.  We are drifting, in a sense, and no one has confirmed that we
belong in the world.  This indicates our lack of a father to welcome us or
even to affirm us, leading to a loss of our sense of destiny and calling.
When I ask men, "What do you think God had in mind when he created you?"   Men
30 or 40 years old are often unsure of how to answer. Even men who have given
their hearts and lives to Jesus have not been able to approach the Father God
with these kinds of questions because they do not trust that He will listen
based on their experience with their own earthly father.   This results in a
very basic kind of pain - a feeling that men have of not knowing where they
fit in. We haven't heard our fathers say,  "I'm happy you're here, son" or
"How do you feel about this?" The father has not been there to give the boy a
sense of accomplishment - to affirm that what the father sees is good.   In
times past, a boy's father might watch his son and see that he was good at
carpentry.  Then he would get him an apprenticeship with a carpenter so the
boy could try it out.  It is the father's job to call the boy out into the
world and to give him the sense that he belongs in the world and show the boy
that with his gifts and talents he is able to make a contribution.  Ideally,
the father calls the son out into the world where father and son can begin to
see where God wants the young man to be, contribute, and make a difference in
the world.  Without this two things happen:   1) The boy doesn't believe he
has anything worth contributing.   2) He feels very insecure and doesn't feel
like he belongs in the world.  He becomes withdrawn and it is hard for him to
respond pro-actively toward life.  Instead, he becomes passive - accepting
whatever  comes his way.   His thoughts might be "I don't belong anyhow."

TRACKS: What do you think is the main experience that men are missing which
has lead so many men into an isolated compulsive/addictive life style?

DALBEY: They haven't had the older man come along side of them and give them
security.  I don't mean leading them every step of the way and say "do this"
or "do that." This gets men into authoritarian religions and cults.  It is not
a security of, "Tell me what to do since I am afraid to face the pain of my
own uncertainty or I will get a pastor or someone to tell me what to do then I
will fit in."  Instead, it seems that there needs to be an older man reaching
out to them as boys who are crying out in their spirits for someone older to
come along side and say, "I care for you."  So the missing experience is that
of the older man confirming the boys and saying "You are one of us - we like
what we see in you  - we value you as a man - we want you with us - welcome to
our community"   The only way to get this as an adult is to covenant with
other men in some kind of small group setting.  As Jesus would put it , "where
two or three are gathered that is where you meet the One who is one with the
Father."  We all need the healing presence of the Father today.

TRACKS: What does a community of men look like?

DALBEY: We don't have any community of men to invite the boys into.  Men have
come to me and said "we have to do something for the boys."  I feel that the
best way to respond to this need is to start to build a masculine community to
invite them into.  Otherwise, you end up taking them out to Disneyland  and
this is good,  but it doesn't address the much deeper longing in the boy that
says "my father wants me to be with the men who are about something important
in life".

TRACKS: Does the church have an answer today for what men are looking for in
the secular  Men's Movement?

DALBEY: I would say the secular movement's main platform is "men do not have
fathers, therefore, we are very badly wounded.  We need to get in touch with
the deep masculine".  Robert Bly indicates that the way this is done is to go
out and beat a drum, shout, and that kind of stuff.  If this were the only
goal in life - to get in touch with the deep masculine - then that might help.
But something is radically missing in the secular approach.  They cannot heal
the father wound because they do not know The Father.  They can point out the
fact to men  "you didn't have a father - therefore you are wounded, so come
out here, do these things, and you will feel better about yourselves."  In
John Bradshaw's work we can take one step further because it shows us that we
need to forgive our father for wounding us, and Bradshaw does a good job
leading people into forgiveness.  But now that I have forgiven my dad, now
what do I do?   I still need to be a man who understands what his gifts are
and I  still need father love.  I may forgive my father, and that is very
essential, but now I am ready for my purpose in life.  We need a father to
come along side of us in this area.  Robert Bly never said he was a Christian
and God will not hold him accountable for giving the word about knowing the
Father God.  It will be the Church that will be held accountable because we
know the Father God.  Jesus said "If you have seen me you have seen the
Father."  But the Church is not letting Jesus be whom He says He is by
allowing Him to introduce the Father to us.  The Church does have the answer
but we are not going to Him and saying, "Okay, Jesus you are one with the
Father and that is what we need," in the way Philip said to Jesus in John 14:8
"Show us the Father and that will be enough for us."

TRACKS: What do you think of Robert Bly and his work in establishing a
community for men? Does he have any tools or things the Church could possibly
look at as far as establishing a community of men within the Church?

DALBEY:  Robert Bly is a brilliant man.  His intelligence combines with his
wounding so that we get some very good stuff from him.  But ultimately if you
don't have Jesus you will get destruction at some point.  The enemy will be
right there.  I thank God for the insights of Robert Bly.  In 1983, my prayer
partner clipped out an interview with Robert Bly before anyone had heard of
him.  When I read the interview I was blown away.  I knew he was on to
something powerful and if it rings true to me as a man then it has to be in
the Bible.  I went back to the scriptures praying that Jesus would show me
where this truth was. This is how  Healing the Masculine Soul  came about.  I
found out there was a lot of truth in the text that Robert Bly was presenting
but he dropped the Holy Bible as a source of truth and took up the pagan and
eastern myths as his reference point. But there is no ultimate healing for
men.  Only the Father God can heal.  It is important to know the Father God
and surrender to him as Father of the woman as well as the man.  A woman is
one of His daughters and when you look at a woman you are looking at one of
your Father's daughters.  This will naturally bring respect, or you will be
answering to her Father!  One of the keystones I look to in the men's movement
is the respecting of women versus the worship of women.  Robert Bly has done
an excellent job of portraying that idolatry although he would not call it
idolatry.

TRACKS: How do you see the church reaching out to men and addressing the
issues of woundedness, abandonment and pain.  Do you see a movement toward
that?

DALBEY: As a pastor, I observe that women are more active in the Church than
men.  We have been raised by our mothers and as a culture or church we don't
know how to reach out to men.  We don't trust each other and we don't respect
each other as men because we have had that father wound together.  There is a
movement in the Church emerging primarily out of the churches that realize
that men have been left out too long.  It is also coming from women in the
church who are saying "Where are the men  - we need them?"  In the church I
pastor, we have about 80% singles.  The women are saying, "Where are the men?
We are walking in the Lord and we need men to walk with us and they are not
here."  The danger I see is that this new movement could basically become the
same as the secular movement with Christian vocabulary overlaid on it.  In
other words, it will be a way to get men pumped up and say "Hey we are better
than women" or "We just need to do a few things and that will make men out of
us."  The Christian men's movement is in a dangerous place because it is at
the crossroads.  One possible direction is to say "Here is what the Bible says
on how  to be a  man, now go out and DO IT".  It is the same old pharisaic
religiosity that not only offers no healing to men but also lays burdens on
them without lifting a finger to help.  It is the worst kind of male-bashing.
It speaks to a man that has been broken, wounded and crushed and says, "You've
got to read the scriptures more, and do this and that to be a man."  This is
the religion that killed Jesus and it is still a virulent strand in the church
- a sort of "do the right thing," but no relationship with the right man or
men.  The other direction is relationship - this is why I like the 12-Step
programs so much. The program has been very helpful in getting men to begin
breaking down the pattern of doing to be a man.  It is right out of Romans 7 -
and says "I can't do it " - it springs from our own powerlessness.

TRACKS: In your book Healing the Masculine Soul you talked about "wormboys".
Could you clarify what you  mean by "wormboy"?

DALBEY: I cannot take credit for this term.  It comes out of the secular
women's movement.  My understanding of it is a man without backbone, a man
without an agenda of his own in life,  a crowd follower,  the passive male,
he has no sense of destiny, no desire or passion for a calling on his life.
It is a man who has an attitude of "Well, honey, whatever you want is fine."
Thirty years ago, women were angry at the macho tough guy, but now this anger
is directed towards the "wormboy" character, because women are saying they
need men with strength to come along side them.

TRACKS: You have been quoted as saying, "The church is really like a mother
protecting men and boys from their manhood."  Is true masculinity outside the
church?  Is the church, in fact, full of "wormboys"?

DALBEY: I get asked this question from mixed groups  of men and women.  The
singles, especially in these groups, ask "Why is it that the stronger men are
just not in the church?"  Our problem is that we have not articulated the true
strength that Jesus comes to give us because we haven't given Him our
weakness.  We come to the church saying, "I am weak and I didn't have a father
to encourage me, but in the church I don't have to be strong because everyone
is supposed to be kind, gentle, tender, soft, sweet, and meek."  So, my
weakness gets affirmed in the church and I can hide from the deeper calls of
the Father God:  boldness, courage and strength to stand against an enemy that
is out to destroy this world and all that He is doing in it.  It is the Father
God that is saying, "I need men.  I need my sons to step forward boldly as
warriors."

TRACKS: Do you foresee the development of "rites of passage" in the church for
fathers calling out their sons?

DALBEY:  There is an essential progression in this.  Far to often the men are
anxious to call the boys out but they don't want to do the work themselves.
The first job is not to be a father but to be a son.  When I wrote my new book
Father and Son, I didn't even have a child.  Now I have a son.  I was asked
how I could write a book called Father and Son and not even be a father.  But
the book is not aimed at fathering; it is a book on how to be a son beginning
with the recognition of yourself as a son of the Father God.  You cannot be a
father to a boy until you know what a boy is like.  You begin to know what a
boy is like by going yourself to the Father God and letting Him show you
yourself as a son with a Father who loves you and cares about you and honors
your feelings and needs.  Then you are ready to go to your own son and
recognize his feelings and needs and honor them.  So when you are talking
about calling a boy out, the first thing that men need to do is to get
together and go to the Father God and learn to know what it means to be a son.
After we experience this with the Father God and allow Him to create the
community of men, then we can call the boys out into this community.  So the
answer to your question is NO,  I have not yet found it in the church.  I have
seen men attempting to do that, but generally they don't have their own issues
as men out of the way and they are floundering with being able to call their
sons out.  They will have the barbecue, go to the baseball game, go fishing,
etc., but they don't know how to reach the boy yet.  Until a group of men are
together asking the Father God to come and heal their father wound, men will
not be ready yet to reach out to the boys.  I am waiting for the next
generation to come, but it will come only in so far as adult men are on their
knees together, learning to know the Father.

TRACKS: If a man has not had a father or other men to call him out, nor any
mentoring or rites of passage, what does he do?  Where would he begin?  What
would he look for?

DALBEY: He would look for other men who are wounded like he is wounded.  It is
not easy.  We are going to the heart of the wound.   This is fearful stuff.
We have learned to distrust men already because the father has not been there
for us.  To go to another man and say "I need you" - that is where you begin.
You begin on your knees saying Jesus, I need you, Father God, I need you.
Then you gird yourself up and go to another brother and say "I need you".
Jesus says I will meet you where two or three are gathered and that is where
you form Christian community.

TRACKS: What work is ahead of men who are willing to face their woundedness,
pain, and issues?  Could you say something about the weakness and
powerlessness in men that they are fearful to face

DALBEY: The weakness and powerlessness is an existential given.  We are
powerless as human beings to change ourselves.  If we are so powerful to
change we wouldn't need Jesus.  The reason we think we are powerful, or
desperately try to believe it, is because we don't believe that Jesus is come
to save us.  To the extent to which a man does not believe Jesus has come to
save him, he is going to be scrambling after his own power to control people
and things around him.  The work ahead is a matter of trusting Jesus, that is
to say, trusting the Father.  That has to take place in the context of other
men.  You can't say "I love you God but I have a lot of trouble with you, my
brother".  The work ahead is overcoming the fear of each other as men.  That
comes out of a fear of our own masculine energy.  We have seen masculine
energy mostly in destructive ways - where we withdraw from people, shoot
people, punish them,  judge them.  But we haven't seen a lot of examples of
positive masculine energy - that bold, outgoing, calling people out to the
Father where we use it to empower them,  undergird them, strengthen them,
encourage them, and protect them. This is the work ahead for us.

TRACKS: Can  we as  fathers stop the wounding between fathers and sons or at
least slow it down?

DALBEY: We need to take our own wounding to Jesus.  And He is waiting to say,
"That is enough.  I have been waiting for some man in this blood line to come
to me with the wound and cry out - 'Jesus save me from this wound.  My father
wounded me unto death.  I don't want to pass it on to my son.  Whatever is
necessary, Jesus, break me unto death.'"

TRACKS: Is the wounding the sin which is passed down from generation to
generation?

DALBEY: Exactly, and it will continue to go that way until someone takes it to
Jesus.  Whichever man chooses to take that wound to Jesus can be assured that
he will not pass it on wholesale to his son.  Now, in this present day, none
of us will be wholly healed 100% until we meet Jesus face to face.  So we are
all going to pass some wounding down to our children.  That is part of life in
this broken world.  If we could be the perfect father our children would not
need Jesus.  Fathers will not be able to do the whole healing and cleansing
for their sons, there is always room left for Jesus.  Every man is going to
have to spend his life at the foot of the cross.  We will never be perfect as
men or fathers, but our job is not to be perfect men or fathers but to be on
our knees before the Father God and Jesus and let Him continue to grow us up.

TRACKS: What part does grieving play in the healing process?  Is it something
men need to learn?

DALBEY: Basically, grieving is letting go of your pain.  If we hold on to the
pain it will control us.  You may even displace it onto others by being
violent to others.  If you don't take your pain to Jesus, it will take you.
If you don't surrender your pain to Jesus you will surrender to your pain and
it controls you and dictates your responses.  Grieving is an essential
process.  It has got to be done.  Our culture has taught men NOT to face grief
and pain.  We are afraid of our pain - that somehow it is unmanly to have
pain.  In some sense it is unmanly to let your pain control you, but I think
there is a difference here.    We have got to know we are hurting and take the
pain to Jesus and it becomes an avenue of healing.  If we don't take it to
Jesus, it controls us and we end up in the hands of the Destroyer.

TRACKS: The Bible does not say much about the issues of the past as much as it
speaks to us about living in the present. Could it be that what we are tied to
is the un-grieved losses of past?

DALBEY: Yes! That is what binds us up.  Once you take your pain to Jesus you
are freed to the present to be what He has called you to be.  As you take your
grief to Jesus you meet the Father and begin to know what it means to have a
merciful Father.  Once you are able to know the Father like this, you become
free to move in the Father God's power.  Part of the growing up process where
we receive the power of the Father God and affect this world, is to take your
grief to Jesus and let Him shape you in that grief.  Then I can begin to know
that I am loved by my Father and He accepts me when I am in my pain and
hurting.

TRACKS: What is the difference between your book Healing the Masculine Soul
and your new book Father and Son?

DALBEY: I think Father and Son focuses very specifically on the father wound,
while Healing the Masculine Soul was more of a broad sweeping approach.  For
example, in Father and Son I have a chapter called "In Praise of Old Men."
It's interesting to note that  Robert Bly, at his conferences, always asks the
men under 60 to get up from the front rows and go to the back, and the men
over 60 to come and take the honored front row position.  That is very
powerful and important: to honor the older men.  A man who dishonors older men
will not honor his own manhood.

TRACKS: This goes against what our culture has taught us about honoring older
men.

DALBEY: Yes. We as a culture denigrate old men.  It is criminal what we do to
old men. The book Father and Son has a much sharper focus on the father/son
wound.

TRACKS: Do you have another book in the works?

DALBEY: At this point, there are two books that line up with healing the
masculinity in men.  One concerns spiritual warfare.  Sooner or later, we as
men have to be up front with that issue: God calls men to be warriors and this
world is in the hands of an enemy.  Men have got to know what it is to be a
son of the Father in order to walk in victory and lead others to the same
victory.  Along with that is the issue of becoming a father to a boy.  And now
that my boy has been born, the Lord has me in a living laboratory.  So the
next two books will deal with spiritual warfare and  being a father to a son.


TRACKS: How do our daughters fit into the role of the father and being called
out?

DALBEY: The girls need to be called out as well.  Part of the calling out is
individualization from the mother.  It is a calling out to give identity in
themselves apart from the mother.  Anyone who has seen a baby with a mother
knows, girl or boy, the baby identifies wholly with the mother.  Oneness with
the mother is very important in the bonding process.  It convinces the child
that he or she  belongs in the world, that they are  okay and accepted.  But
there comes a point - no matter what their sex - when a child has to be called
away from the mother individually to discover their own unique calling in the
Father God.  Girls need that too.  They need to know this first of all from
the father, that she is acceptable to a man and is valued by a man.
Otherwise, she is crippled in her feminine soul and when she comes to approach
a man later as a woman or a wife, she will not be able to surrender to him, to
trust him, or respect him.  She will be on her guard all the time because her
experience with the father has been negative and hurtful.  She will not be
able to trust a man.  The whole issue of the father wound is very critical for
women as well. I leave it to women to articulate that better to us.  The
father wound is very deep in the woman as well, and the woman who does not
deal with that will end up as a very resentful hard line feminist out to
destroy the masculine.  It comes out of that anger and hostility toward the
father.

TRACKS: What is the main message you would like to give to men.

DALBEY: I would say that as a man, there is a little boy in your heart that
has a longing to bond with his father, to be like his  father, seek his
approval, encouragement and even his discipline.  We all long for an old man
to tell us we are okay as a man and that it is good to be a man and welcome us
into the community of men.  In our society, which  has been crushed, squeezed
out or denigrated, but it is real.  And Jesus has come to meet us in this
need.  We have a Father God who does love us.  We are created out of the will
and deliberate desire of a Father God who loves us.  He has created us out of
His own heart.   We are created in His image and He is our Father and we are
His sons.   We must go to Jesus and start talking to Him about our
woundedness, brokenness, need, and longings.  Get together with other men, and
you will begin to meet this Father who loves you and who will begin to shape
you in the fullness of what you have been created to be.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Gordon Dalbey is the author of Father & Son: The Wound, the Healing, and the
Call to Manhood. (Thomas Nelson) and Healing the Masculine Soul (Word).  He is
a pastor at the Santa Monica Vineyard in California.  He is a popular speaker
at conferences, churches and seminars.  You can reach him by writing to: Rev.
Gordon Dalbey, PO Box 24496, Los Angeles, CA  90024

==============================

DON'T CURSE THE ROAD TO PARADISE

by Jon David Roberts

     I took my place holding the handles of my  grandmother's coffin.  I felt
irony and pain as I connected with the other men. As we each grasped the
coffin's full weight, lifting and sliding it into the hearse.  I had not seen,
touched or spoken to most of these men in as much as thirty years. We had
begun life together as  boys and young men, still pliable and shapeless like
the red Texas clay.  But many catalytic events had shaped and formed us into
men, now pallbearers, who perspired uncomfortably in the sweltering humidity
and heat of South Texas.
     Holding the handle on my right was my brother Jack, who at this one
single moment I felt unusually close to in a grateful and humorous way.  The
fact was, had our mother not married out of her social class, we might be like
one of our other cousins standing around this coffin.  Jack and I knew that
most of these men would never leave this little town.  They would spend their
lives laboring as delivery boys, security guards or oil field workers just
like their daddies had.  Basically, the world ended at the city limits here in
Aileen, much like my cousin's days ended in the local cowboy bars.
     To my left was my favorite cousin Jim.  He was my hero and he earned that
title with the honesty that characterized his life.  Like a messiah Jim's
wisdom delivered salvation from the shame I couldn't speak about.  He wasn't
afraid to talk about anything, and that made him so unlike the rest of my
relatives.  But he was infected with one disease that plagued our family:
religion.  Jim suffered with it bravely as the pastor of a small Southern
Baptist church in nearby Kingsville.
     Diagonally to my left stood my cousin Philip in his security uniform,
with his shiny badge and gun.  He tried to look so serious, something he
called "command presence".  Anyway, I'm sure he felt that his rent-a-cop
uniform lent a certain military formality to his position of pallbearer.
Philip  had crossed eyes that resulted from a childhood accident.  He had
carelessly lit a fire-cracker on the stove and it exploded in his face.  His
mamma told me that it could be fixed with an operation but they just never had
the money.  His gaze makes it difficult to know when he is talking to you, but
I always pretend to listen since he outweighs me by about 150 pounds.  Phillip
had arranged for the five security company trucks with their flashing lights
and the pointed horns of Texas Longhorn bulls jutting outward from the front
grill.  The lights and bull horns ensured that the funeral procession would be
a spectacle.
     Across the coffin to my right was my cousin Johnny.  He is a Vietnam Vet
who came home a little crazy but, considering the collective insanity of my
family, who could be his judge?  Johnny was the family black sheep for several
reasons.  To begin with, his daddy wasn't married to his mamma and she was a
Catholic.  Second, he dared to do everything out in the open that everyone
else did in secret.  I liked this cavalier attitude.  The most handsome of us
all, Johnny, loved women and they fell in love with him.  But the same demons
that owned our Grampa Harley, possessed  Johnny, so he would  thrash any woman
who attempted to love him or hold him down.
     Holding the handle directly across from me was my cousin Stewart Dean.  I
had rehearsed this moment repeatedly in my mind.  I stared into his eyes.  I
wanted to read his face to see if  there was any hint of embarrassment or
pain.  I hoped there was.   Did the wrinkles that ran through his ruddy shin,
up past his temples and into his reddish hair come from remorse?  Still tall
and muscular, he looked back at me and I returned his gaze with all my
strength.  I wondered what his first words would be.  I hadn't looked into
those eyes for thirty years.  But every night since the summer of 1965, as I
drift off to sleep, I have heard his voice with its searing secrets.
     I remember that summer as the hottest and most humid I had ever known.
My family was on vacation in Aileen visiting mother's family.  My mother and
father left me with my grandma and grandpa at the old wooden house our family
called St. Mary's.  I thought that it was named after the old woman who died
there in my grandparent's care because they said "she suffered like a saint."
As a Baptist child, I never questioned religious mysteries and since I didn't
know much about saints, to me it all made sense.  It turned out that it was
actually the name of the street.  My cousin Stewart had agreed to come and
watch Ed Sullivan on TV with me.  Stewart was four years older than my ten,
and the awkward changes of manhood had grasped him early.  To him I was
cherubic and spoiled - his rich cousin from California.
     Later that night, my uncle Tom's headlights flashed through the screen
door as his car careened up the driveway and came to a stop with a thud
against the giant pepper tree in the backyard.  He stumbled into the house,
cussing and swinging the hook that took the place of his missing arm.  I saw
him go into the bedroom and heard him crashing around the room as he took off
his clothes and turned off the light.  I followed Stewart and my grandparents
to the doorway where my uncle slurred how sorry he was and wiped the slobber
off his face with his now naked stump.  He asked me to come to sleep with him.
I was so afraid I couldn't say anything.  He shouted and begged saying I was
his favorite nephew.  My granpa told him to shut up and then told me to go to
bed with Stewart in the other bedroom.  I remember now how relieved I had
felt.
     My cousins and I pushed the coffin into the hearse and the sound of the
door slamming was like a slap in the face.  We climbed into the flashing
bull-mobiles as the black hearse pulled out in front.  Philip waved us on with
his skewed stare looking a bit confused yet still very official and
impressive.  He and his buddies in uniform would stop traffic so the huge line
of cars could get through the two traffic lights in town.  My cousin Jim
leaned over and told me that in Texas, it's real important to have a long
funeral procession because it means the person was really loved.  I looked
back at the pickups with farm animals in the back and realized I was getting a
real bad headache.
     I had entered the other bedroom as Stewart turned off the light and
switched on the droning fan that would blow the smothering heat from the room.
We pulled the sheets over our bodies, and the moon shining through the window
by the bed made the sheets look like snow, as they clung to us like the summer
air. To my surprise he asked me to touch him and I curiously moved my hand to
his erect penis.  Even though something inside felt very wrong, his attention
made me feel older and accepted by him.  He then rolled onto my back.  I could
smell his body odor as he whispered "it won't hurt."  Instantly, I became
oblivious to the movement in the room, only aware of what I could see and hear
outside the window.  There was the constant metallic buzz of katydids, the
darkness that surrounded the stars and the county mosquito truck with its
gently floating fog that landed on the lawns and trees.  Fear seized me back
into the room as I felt him release inside me and his body jerk.  Then he was
still.  I was terrified.  Was I dying?  Anguish filled my mind as an invisible
shield went up around me.  The springs on the bed complained as I got up and
crossed the dark hall to the bathroom.  I turned on the bathroom light and
even the roaches were repulsed by me as they escaped into the cracks and the
haunting shadows.  I was in pain as I touched myself and realized he had
damaged me.  My mind was numb and yet insane thoughts filled my head.  My
heart raced.  I cried out to God but I felt too sinful for my voice to ever
reach heaven.  My parents would be ashamed of me.  I could hear their angry
voices inside my head.  I wanted to die.  My stomach ached and I shivered as I
cleaned myself and turned off the light.  I cried as I crawled back into bed
with Stewart.  He said that it would be our secret.  He said I would be all
right.  He lied.
     The service ended solemnly as grandma's coffin descended into the earth.
I turned and asked Stewart for a ride back to the airport.  Two beer cans
broke the silence when they fell out of his pickup as I opened the door and
climbed in.  I asked Stewart to drive us by St. Mary's on the way.
     "Stewart do you remember what happened there?"  I asked choking on my
words.
     "Don't worry about it Bob.  Boys do a lot of crazy things before they get
to girls.  You know, hormones and all that."
     "Stewart, you hurt me."  I said, controlling my anger with carefully
chosen words.  "Have you ever thought about it again, Stewart?"  In some way
this went against my concepts of manhood, but I hoped he had.  If he said he
cared I could then pretend it wasn't rape.
     "Nope, I just moved on."  He then surprised me by asking.  "Will you
forgive me?" I couldn't believe my reply when I said. "Yes."
     We turned onto St. Mary's street.  But to our astonishment the house was
gone.  I couldn't believe my eyes.  The house that for so many years had been
our grandparent's home was gone.  It had been torn down right to the
foundation and only the lonely pepper tree remained.  Maybe it was a sign.
For so many years I had thought about what happened there and my cousin hadn't
once.  I knew confronting Stewart was my first step of moving out of that room
that existed in my head.  Seeing the death of that house ended its possession
of me.  As we drove off towards the airport a country singer on the radio sang
"the shortcut to heaven is walking straight through hell."  I've gone that way
once.  I won't be a hostage to my secrets again.


=============================


IN MY BROTHER'S ROOM

                              by Jon David Roberts

                              In my brother's room
                            I'm not allowed to play
                      The little fingers that break things
                        Are unexpectedly welcome today

                            I walk through the door
                               Holding your hand
                                 You make me do
                            What I don't understand

                           A razor slashes innocence
                     There is panic, heat, suffocating pain
                         Where is God, Mommy and Daddy
                              He holds the power,

                              I'm left with shame
                               My brother my hero
                           You are much older than me
                             Share with me secrets
                              Baptize me in misery

                              In my brothers room
                               There is a mystery
                     And the door latches tightly behind me
                                   As I leave


==============================

MY FATHER'S BLESSING

by Dave Osborne

     We just made it aboard before they stopped the ticket sales for the 5:30
PM departure of the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway.  Leaving my mother to wait at
the bottom, my father and I were about to leave the heat of the desert to
ascend over a mile up into the San Jacinto wilderness.
     I had wanted my blessing to take place in the woods, because it is the
kind of country I love best.  The problem had been figuring out how to make it
happen since we were going to Yuma, Arizona that morning (not a woodsy sort of
place by any means).  That particular morning happened to be Father's Day.
Father's Day seemed like a significant day to receive my blessing - and to
give one.  Since my father had never received a blessing either.  The tram
proved to be the perfect solution, being that it was in route on the way home
from Yuma.
     I felt guilty leaving my mom by herself at the bottom, but this was
something we men had to do on our own.  Although I wished that this could have
happened when I was an adolescent, I was glad that it was not too late.  In
fact, I don't believe anyone is ever really too old to receive a blessing.
     I think the idea of the blessing came to me as I was reading through the
book of Genesis.  I noticed how the patriarchs all gave a blessing to their
sons.  "I want a blessing from my dad," I thought.  In fact, I had asked him
for one the last time I saw him some eight months previous, but he didn't
quite know what to do. This time, I had thought through what I wanted to
happen and had shared that with him beforehand.
     The weather was beautiful.  In less than fifteen minutes we were over
8,500 feet high.  The sky was a rich blue with a few scattered clouds and the
air was refreshingly cool.  It was much more comfortable than the desert
below.
     The beginning of our journey into the woods was a downhill trek.   We
hiked down the trail into a little valley and followed a small stream.
"There's nothing like a mountain stream," I thought as we moved along at a
fairly good clip.  It seemed rather odd that we would go down first - not at
all unlike the inward journey many of us need to embark on as men.  My own
inward quest involved allowing myself to look inside and feel my own pain in
the context of individual counseling, support groups, attending workshops, and
pertinent reading.  I had also had several discussions with my father over the
past several years in which we talked about our relationship.  Some of those
talks were difficult to initiate and painful to walk through, but they had
helped pave the way for what was happening this Father's Day 1991.
     We left the trail and headed off on our own.  I hated to leave the quiet
stream, but it was time to climb.  We scampered (well-maybe it wasn't quite a
scamper) up to the top of the hill before us until we came upon a couple of
dead trees and a large rock.  Just beyond us was the edge of the ridge with  a
commanding view of the parched desert thousands of feet below.
     It was a little after 6:30 P.M. as we stood on the rock and began to sing
one of my father's favorites: "Now I Belong to Jesus."  We took turns choosing
other hymns.  He picked choruses like: "This is the Day," and "Seek ye First,"
while I chose "I Know Whom I Have Believed,"  "Living for Jesus," and
"Majesty."
     After this bonding in song, we stood back-to-back feeling the support of
each other.  He faced the valley below while I faced the mountains.  As we
stood in this position we read several scriptures to each other which dealt
with the Lord as our strength.  I recalled Gordon Dalbey's illustration in
Healing the Masculine Soul of how the Greeks went into battle with a battle
partner.  This battle partner would cover his colleagues back side.  The Greek
word for the battle partner is "paraclete."  Our standing back to back not
only symbolized my father and I covering each other in spirit (through prayer
and support) but it also was a symbol of the Holy Spirit covering each of us
with His protection.  As my dad read, I stood tall, breathed deep, and felt
strong.  I shifted my weight occasionally as I gazed out over the mountains,
just to feel my father's back against my own.
     We stood facing the mountains as we celebrated the Lord's Supper
together. The elements were what some may call a bit crude.  On the hike in I
had realized that we had forgotten to bring anything for communion.  To go
back at that point would have set us back a good half hour or more, so we
pushed on.  I had a breath mint and some almond crumbs in my pocket and
actually considered using them until I spotted a baby pine cone that had
fallen to the ground.  It just seemed like the "natural" thing to do.  We each
took a small piece of the pine cone along with a swig from my backpacking
water bottle, and gave thanks.  You know what?  I think the Lord blessed it
anyway!
     As I stood there with my dad, I reflected on how much things had changed.
Sadly, I had grown up for many years not wanting to be like my father.  Like
my mom, I sometimes focused on his negative attributes.  I sensed her
disappointments and I must have decided at some level to imitate more of her
characteristics.  But by then, things had changed.  Over the years, I have
come to appreciate his many good qualities.  In fact, I want to embrace my
father.
     While growing up,  I didn't get to spend as much individual time with him
as I wanted to.  I began to recognize and deeply feel the wounds which
resulted from not being as close to my father as I wished I could have been. I
also recognized just a little of the pain that my dad went through as a young
boy.  My father has a tremendous father wound himself. He can't remember his
father ever telling him that he loved him, or ever even giving him a simple
hug.  He never had a model of what it means to be a father.
     And so I had gone to Yuma with him in a quest to hear some of his
stories, visit some old haunts, and share some of his past with him.  We
stopped by the old four- room school house where he went to elementary school.
We walked down main street and he showed me where the old pool hall used to be
and told me of the countless hours he had spent there.  He even told me a few
of the wild escapades he experienced before he became  a Christian.  Our trip
took us to a certain canal bank outside of town where my father, not yet ten
years old, had walked with his mother and tried with all his might to convince
her not to jump in and commit suicide.  It still amazes me that he was willing
to take me there.  Later that afternoon we went and picked out a gift that he
would give me up on the mountain the next day.
     After we had shared communion together I took the ring out of my pocket
that I had bought for him and wished him a happy Father's Day.  Boy was he
surprised! While we had been strolling around downtown Yuma he had noticed a
turquoise ring and took a liking to it until he saw the price tag.  Later I
managed to sneaked back to the store in order to buy it.  Now standing face to
face on the mountain, I placed my right hand on his shoulder and shared some
symbolism about the ring with him.  Referring to the silver band, I pointed
out that God had refined his life as silver is refined (Psalm 66:10).  The
rock represented Jesus Christ, embedded in the center of his life.  The ring
was complete.  While not perfect, it had been shaped into an object of beauty
and value.  I reminded dad that he is a man who has built his house upon the
rock (Matthew 7:24,25) and has drunk deeply from the spiritual rock which is
Jesus Christ (I Corinthians 10:4).
     I then shared with him several of the characteristics that I appreciated
about him and wanted for my own.  We both cried at various points through this
time.  I concluded by telling him that he had nothing to prove now, but much
to give.  We embraced.
     He wanted to save my gift until after he had blessed me.  Placing his
hand on my shoulder, he began my blessing.  I had written out almost a page of
things I wanted to hear from him and had asked that if he could genuinely say
these things to please include them.  I wanted to hear him tell me I was a
man, that I was a part of him, that I had his genes, that he loved me, has
always loved me, will always love me, and there is nothing I could do to ever
change that.  I asked him to compare me with an animal and he likened me to a
bear, strong, brave, and protective.  Hearing my dad tell me I was strong was
very special for me.  I had asked him to tell me there was no shame in my
tears if I started to cry at any point during this time together.  (I
accurately anticipated that eventuality!)  He told me tears are beautiful and
a gift from God--only true men are able to cry.  There were other life-giving
words I heard from my father that day.  We both cried at various points
throughout that time and  embraced again.
     My dad's gift to me was a beautiful, handmade frontier knife.  It cost
quite a bit, but I recall that he didn't bat an eye as I watched him pay for
it earlier while we were still in Yuma.  I'm so proud of that knife.  It has
become my most cherished possession because of all it represents.  I had
wanted a knife as a symbol of lifting the sword of truth.  Dad commented about
the steel being strong, sharp, and tempered, as he compared these things to my
life.
     The sun was going down behind the mountains as dad gave me a blessing but
there was still plenty of light.  He prayed for me and then we stood side by
side with our arms around each other and belted out all four verses of "How
Great Thou Art" .  I love that song.  It has become a little tradition of mine
to sing it whenever I'm on top of a mountain.
     On the way back down the mountain we reminisced about jumping from rock
to rock down the  rivers in Yosemite when I was a kid.  Man was that fun!  I
said I still like jumping from rock to rock.  I'm 37.  You know what?  He said
he still does too!  He's 62.
     I'm so grateful that I had the opportunity to experience this with my
father.  I'm also grateful for the talks we've had.  Dad has not been
defensive in our talks, but has listened to me and admitted when he was wrong.
What a gift to a son!
     I will never forget my Father's blessing up there on the rugged mountain.
My hope is that everyone, male or female, could have such an experience!  I
once heard of a lady who wasn't able to get a blessing from her father, so she
asked a pastor whom she respected and trusted to give her a blessing.  It
certainly makes sense that the blessing of a father, a mother, or a
significant other, would be a very special experience.
     At last we returned to the tram station just in time to catch the 8:00
p.m. run.  As I left the mountain, I had paid special attention to where we
had gone since leaving the trail. I marked spots in my mind and wrote down
directions after I returned.  You see, some day I want to return to that
rock--with my son.

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Dave Osborne, M.Div., M.S. - Dave is in private practice with Henslin & Assoc.
as a marriage, family, child, counseling intern,  He graduated from Talbot
Seminary and is also on staff part-time at the First Evangelical Free Church
in Fullerton, CA, where he works with 12-Step support groups.  He can be
reached at (714)-491-7886,  Henslin & Assoc.,  745 S. Brea Blvd,  Brea,  CA
92621

===============================


What Grows on the Family Tree??

by Dr. Earl Henslin

     As I drove up to the house I did not know what to expect.  I was about to
meet someone with whom I had only spoken to on the phone. Bill was a distant
relative that my  Great-Uncle back in Minnesota had told me of after he heard
about our upcoming move to California. "Look up Bill Henslin in San Marino.
He is a cousin of mine and I think you will like him." I was surprised to
learn that I had any relatives in Southern California.  Now I was at his door,
about to meet a man who was the son of one of my great-grandfather's brothers.
Someone who was actually acquainted with that whole generation of my family.
He would have actually known my great-grandfather Frank Henslin who was born
in 1852 exactly 100 years before me!  I was excited to be able to meet this
man who would be able to tell me more about the legacies within my family.
     I parked in front of his house and began to walk up the sidewalk to the
front door.  Before I was half way to the house, the door opened and a rather
handsome and distinguished gentleman began to walk towards me.  The little boy
within me leaped inside with a feeling of warmth.  Here was an older man who
was looking forward to seeing me. He had a smile on his face, and he walked
briskly, straight and tall. I recognized a life and energy about him from the
first moment I saw him.  It was something I was not used to seeing in the men
in my family. He resembled both my grandfather (who had been dead since I was
18 years old) and my Great-uncle in Minnesota who had always been warm and
kind to me.
     As he strode towards me he reached out his hand, grabbed mine and shook
it warmly and gently.  As He shook my hand he said, " I can tell you are a
Henslin, you must be a fine young man!"  He then smiled and said "my name is
Bill, and I am most happy to meet you."  For most people, it is an  ordinary
greeting. For me, however, it was an affirmation from a member of my family
who was meeting me for the first time and had already assumed the good about
me.  In that initial interaction between us, which probably lasted a total of
only 45 to 50 seconds, I had experienced more positive affirmation and direct
messages of caring and warmth than I had from the generations of men that I
had grown up with.  The men in my family are hard working, good men.
Unfortunately, they are also  disconnected from their own feelings having
grown up in dysfunctional families where the rule is men don't feel and do not
know how to express their feelings.  Compulsive work, eating, and other
addictive diseases are the norm as it has been in many a mid-west farm family.
Hard work is valued. Tolerating large amounts of physical and emotional pain
is the rule.  It is little wonder that so many of the men in my family have
died of heart attacks  - "Attacks of the heart" hearts that stop because they
can no longer bare the pressure of all the pain.  Men who keep the hurt deep
inside and are nobly silent.  The quiet warriors that are stoic and lack life
is what I had to live up to.  Sounds of hearty laughter and joy were rarely
heard in the house of my youth.  Strong arms that give warm hugs and which
communicate safety and caring were never expressed to one another in our
family.  A spontaneous "I love you" between father and son just didn't happen.
A father and son never experienced tears shared together. All these feelings
are locked deep inside my father's and grandfather's hearts.  My own feelings
tell me they must have felt something, yet were unable to express it directly
and clearly.  Now in words and physical expression, the little boy in me was
connecting with Bill and somehow telling me who I was in a way I had always
longed for.
     When I had that experience with Bill, I also became aware of a deep
sadness and grief, a sorrow that I had missed something significant in my
experience with my father. It was not too many years later that a close friend
and I went to hear Robert Bly.  Bly talked about this grief as being the loss
of never having connected at a feeling level with his father.  The second
thing he said was that it was the father's job in the family to build the
emotional bridge to the son. The sadness and grief within me then deepened and
I began to consciously know why no amount of food, or work (my two main
addictions) could fill the hole in my soul this pain and grief had made.  That
part of the emptiness that I felt was the father wound - a wound that I shared
with my father from his father, a wound that had been passed on between
generations of men possibly for centuries.  Caring men trying to fill their
wounds with various addictions and co-dependent relationships,  and
shame-filled religion.  These are often good men. Yet men deeply hurting,
laboring and living with hurt and  emptiness while feeling ALONE. The result
is that relationships are being destroyed and the pain denied and handled by
more distance and isolation.
     As I look back now I realize that my life has been characterized by the
development of various relationships with men in an attempt to help fill the
emptiness I was feeling. I may not have known precisely what I was doing, yet
instinctively I was recognizing the need to be connected with men who had the
capacity to express their feelings and were able to be affirming of me.
Somehow I had been seeking to hear directly and clearly that I was okay and
that my feelings had meaning.  I longed to be confronted when I was taking a
wrong turn or was in the process of shooting myself in the foot.  I desired to
be among men who would take time to pray with me and encourage me.  More and
more I became aware of a little boy inside me as an adult who needed to be
cared for,  and yet also initiated into the world of men.
     While recognizing the need for caring, love, and support, I also longed
for a masculine influence that could step in and strongly confront and provide
a timely kick in the pants - a sort of warrior-like strength which empowers
that man to do what he needs to do.  I needed to be shown how a man can
utilize his fears to mobilize himself to action instead of being rendered
helpless by them, enabling one to boldly step into trouble rather than run
from it.  I wanted to at last face the hurt and shame within, and take
responsible steps in recovery rather than waiting for someone to rescue me
while wallowing in a state of blame.  The time had come for me to stop my
habit of pointing at others as the reason I was not growing while avoiding the
harder steps.
     For many men the first step in recovery of the father-son loss  begins
when they become a part of a group of men in a 12-Step group.  All of us need
sobriety from whatever addictions or co-dependent relationships we may be
wrestling with and men can best accomplish this with other men.  There is a
different quality of sharing that occurs among men as opposed to when women
are in the room as well.  Masculine vulnerability has a different root and
quality than feminine vulnerability.  Men have a need to form a bond with
other men in recovery.  It is far easier to feel understood by a woman
emotionally than by another man.  In the early stages of recovery men are in
danger of crossing boundaries with women from whom they get emotional support.
It is better to find a 12-Step group of men or a men's group dealing with
issues to be in.  When we get a sponsor, work the program, and learn to use
the tools, sobriety begins to occur.  When sobriety comes, an atmosphere is
set for the healing of the little boy within.  The primary emotion is one of
grief where we feel the loss of what was never or rarely there, the loss of
connecting with the father.  For me the beginning of the grief process was
meeting Bill.  When I encountered this older man and experienced his warmth
and affirmation, I began to feel the sadness of what I never had.
     When I met Bill it was the conscious beginning of a process that God had
started within me years earlier without my even knowing it. It was facilitated
by my relationships with men that were encouraging me to take steps of growth.
These series of relationships were meeting and filling some of the holes
within that were a part of my own father wound.  Throughout my teens,
twenties, thirties and so on,  I  recognized that there was a need for a deep
connection with men and I searched for the type of relationship that would
touch the needs of the wounded little boy within.  I longed to be initiated
into the world of men - a world which for a long time I did not feel I
belonged in.  Somehow, I always felt too "young" for the job, and never
adequate enough for the challenge.  I was like an inadequate boy in a world of
men.  At times I was too naive and trusting only to learn that all too often
men are not to be trusted.  However, I have also come to see that finding a
man you can trust is one of the most valuable and precious things in this
world!  In the Bible, King David describes his relationship with Jonathan:
"His love is more wonderful (separate and distinguished) than the love of a
woman."

wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

Earl R. Henslin, Psy.D. - Earl is the director of Henslin & Assoc.  He is a
part time instructor in the doctoral clinical psychology program at Rosemead
Graduate School of Psychology, Biola University, and is the author of "The Way
Out of the Wilderness" (Thomas Nelson) and co-author of "Secrets of Your
Family Tree" (Moody).  He can be reached at (714)-491-7886,  Henslin & Assoc.,
745 S. Brea Blvd,  Brea,  CA  92621

=========================================

     Tracks in the Sand is published by a small group of Christian men.  We
believe in the power of Jesus Christ to heal the whole person.
     We recognize that we as men often isolate ourselves in the belief that
emotions are not appropriate for us to show, or even to have.  Whether this is
the result of abuse in our family of origin, or simply the pressure that
society places on us as men, we have found that this isolation can result in
shame, broken families, obsessive/compulsive behavior, depression, anxiety,
addictions, lack of intimacy, people-pleasing, rage, eating disorders,
workaholism, stress, and many other unhealthy behaviors.
     When we began to talk amongst ourselves, we realized that we were not
alone.  As we continued to share our stories with each other, the prison walls
which held us captive began to crumble.  This process was not without pain,
but we found that as a result of our honesty we were able to have more
satisfying, healthy relationships with God and others.
     It is our desire to provide a vehicle for men to share the pain that has
been locked up inside of them for years.  By doing so we can break the power
of shame and condemnation.  We encourage the formation of men's small groups
where each participant can bring his innermost secrets into the light and
allow other men of faith to minister truth, healing and acceptance in a safe
environment of confidentiality. We aspire to give and receive "Fathering" and
"Brothering" which many of us have never previously received.
     The name, TRACKS IN THE SAND, comes from the idea of following someone
who has been where we are going, felt what we are feeling and experienced what
we are living,  It is His tracks that we are following.  We hope you join us
as a fellow tracker.
     All articles are copyrighted and remain the property of the author.
Permission to reprint is granted as long as credit is given to both the author
and Tracks in the Sand. This publication is supported completely by donations
from its readers who, thus, help offset the cost of printing and mailing.  If
you would like additional copies of this newsletter, or  would like to be put
on our mailing list, or wish to make a financial contribution or submit an
article for publication, please contact us at our address below.
     There are no subscription fees.  You can get "Tracks" free by sending us
your name and address.  However, "Tracks" is funded by your donations.  Please
consider sending a contribution.  Unsolicited material will not be returned
unless accompanied by a self-address, stamped envelope.  (714)-751-1012

Editors: Gary Kalus, Peter Jacobs

Asst. Editors: Bill Faris, Mark Jasper, & Don Reid

SPECIAL THANKS TO CONTRIBUTING  AUTHORS:
          Dr. Earl Henslin, Dave Osborne, Jon David Roberts, & Gordon Dalbey