mines

"You won't be left alone, nor have you been alone a single moment."


I read this quote to my boys and asked them who they thought had said it.  "Jesus!" they answered in unison.  


Yep, it sounds very familiar.  But I was reading this from Newsweek magazine.  This quote was spoken by Chilean President Sebastian Pinera, on the phone to the 33 Chilean miners who are trapped underground and could be there for several more months.


This week I was part of a process we call crisis care in Hospice.  When a patient begins to actively die, team members provide round-the-clock care, to be with the patient and support the family.  Whether the patient is conscious or not, they will not be left alone for a single moment.


And then there are the many, unremarkable, unsensational moments each week, when I am reminded of those words.  When an email, a text, a phone call, a get together serves as a lifeline from a dark spot or comforting companionship in a long night.  I am so thankful for the people in my life who embody God's promise of consistent presence.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you." Deuteronomy 31:6

happily ever after....

The sun is setting on the manicured lawn.  Twinkling little lights illuminate the trees.  Candles are lit.  Beautiful girls in beautiful dresses hold ribboned flowers.  Handsome men in tuxes escort people to their seats.  Inside, the finishing touches of a delicious, four course meal are finalized.  A three tired cake is being photographed.  Guest are laughing and smiling, excited for the ceremony to begin.


It's like being in a fairy tale.  Those few moments where everyone looks their very best, believes the very best, brings their very best.  And as I stand on the porch, waiting for my signal to start, I again marvel that I get to be a part of it.  I get to take their raw expressions of love and turn them into stories that will make their guests laugh, and vows that will make their families cry.  I get to take their ideas and turn them into a seamless program, directed from center stage.   I get to stand next to the groom as he watches his bride walk down the aisle toward him.  I see the tears in their eyes, the quiver of their chins.  I say the words that have been said for hundreds of years, Do you?.... yet knowing that we are creating a totally unique moment.  I get to invite the shouts and applause of joy that follow the pronouncement of husband and wife.


I've loved weddings since I was a little girl.  My dad would bring me his boutonniere from weddings he sang at.  He would draw pictures of the dresses on the program.  My mom would patiently plan my weddings with me over and over again.  To this day, every wedding brings me pleasure and inspiration.


Weddings are a great balance to my other life.  I have two jobs.  Hospice chaplain and wedding officiant.  Both are defined by moments of intimacy, love and transition.   One is a hopeful beginning, the other is a reconciled ending.  One feels like a fairy tale, one is the harshest reality.  Both are holy.


And for both of these experiences, this passage speaks loudly to me.


I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."  Revelation 21:2-4

in common

He showed me a picture of a young man and a young woman obviously in love.  "That was us sixty years ago.  We were meant to be.  Of course my mother-in-law didn't not think so.  She hated me.  They were Christian Scientists and I was a Roman Catholic."


But they got married anyway.  And had four children.  And survived wars and job changes and holidays and graduations.  In old age, her parents lived with them.  He was sitting at her mother's death bed one day when she feebly whispered something.  He bent close to hear it.  "Hold my hand."  He did.  She looked at him and said "You have been like a son to me. Thank you."


And in another room, another elderly man was reminiscing.   "My wife's family were all Jehovah's Witness. When we fell in love, I converted and joined her church.  My Methodist parents were furious.  They were threatening not to come to the wedding, to disown us...."


A friend of theirs talked to them.  "Was your son active in the Methodist church?"  "Not at all."  "Well, look at him now.  He's involved and consistent and passionate about his faith.  Why are you fighting this?"  A truce was formed.  But beyond that "my parents became best friends with my in-laws.  Best friends!  We were one big, happy, happy family for many, many years.


Love triumphs!  It is what brings us together then keeps us together.  I love how Henri Nouwen puts it.


"We are not alone; beyond the differences that separate us, we share one common humanity and thus belong to each other.  The mystery of life is that we discover this human togetherness not when we are powerful and strong, but when we are vulnerable and weak."

ringing

I'm fighting the urge to be really intimidated.  Two weeks of shadowing seasoned hospice chaplains can do that to a person.


Chaplain #1 - warm and engaging, he is a college football fanatic.  And a Baptist.  And in room after room he is joking about team rivalries or kidding about denominational differences with long term patients.  By the third room, I thought "I'm never going to be able to do this."  I can't keep national teams straight much less local colors, mascots, players and histories.  I can't imagine getting get teased by a Methodist about differences in our neighboring churches.  If that is what a hospice chaplain is, I am in trouble.....


Chaplain #2 - capable and caring, she has a long background in nursing.  She reads the charts for medical history and recent illnesses, and asks the patients about their medications and blood pressure.  She feels this gives her a well rounded picture of each patient she ministers to.  I never can remember if 180/30 is great or terrible.  Someone's admission of dependance on Naltrexone means nothing to me.  If that is what a hospice chaplain is, I am in trouble...


Chaplain #3 - efficient and available, the patients love talking with him.  He is single and fills his free time with volunteering for overtime and weekend on calls.  He is the "go to guy", looking for something else to do.  My to do list is starting to make a four day weekend mandatory.  If this is what a hospice chaplain is, I am in trouble...


But wait a minute!  Enough with the comparing.  I am a great chaplain. A great non-footballed, non-medical, no free time Chaplain.  I can talk to anyone. Who needs sports and diseases when you can talk about history and food and locations and families and....... My new goal is to recognize what my #speciality is.


I love this quote from the Leonard Cohen song "Anthem". (via Elizabeth Edwards to Nate Berkus to Oprah )


Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering.  There is a crack in everything: that's how the light gets in.

twelve bones

Here's the best story I've heard in a long time!


George, a 75 year old man at Steve's nursing home, was restless.  He had had enough of facility food.  Craving something from the "outside", he remembered hearing about how Obama has eaten at 12 Bones while he was visiting Asheville.  During therapy he asked Steve about it and found out that Steve had eaten there.  It became his Great Life Desire. 


"Come on man, let's go."  Steve couldn't take him, but a few days later he stopped at 12 Bones and got a take out menu.  He told George to choose what he wanted and Steve would bring it to him on Friday.


George studied the menu.  He learned it.  He read it to everyone who came in his room.  By the end of the week the menu was all wrinkled and creased.  George showed it to his friend Will, who joined in the excitement.


Every single time he saw Steve, he asked "What should I get?  What are you going to get?  What's good?"  When Steve walked in to work on Friday morning, at 7:00 am, George was waiting by the door.  "Today is the day Steve!"


When the lunch menu was posted as baked fish, George found Steve.   "Thank God today is take out day, huh Steve?"


Finally it was lunch.  George and Will agonizingly made their decisions.  They would have the Pulled Pork and the Hogzilla sandwiches with southern sides.  The anticipation was palpable.


Steve got back with a big take-out bag.  He set up a table in the treatment room and the feasting began.  Lip smacking, groans of pleasure, and many expressions of gratitude filled the room.  At one point, while they were shoveling food down, Steve ask them if they were going to be able to eat it all.  


"Hell yeah!" was the response.


Well, they don't teach you that in chaplain school.  But those men headed to nap time ministered to.  Way to go, Honey!


"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'  Matthew 25:40

shoelaces

I've tried to teach my boys how to tie their shoes several times.  Half-hearted attempts.  They've never had tie shoes, so it never stuck.  But last week Jake needed running shoes.  So once again it was "make a bow.  Loop around.  Tuck it under.  Pull it tight."  It seems so easy.  I can do it without a thought.  But for the boys it is confusing, tricky and daunting.  I'm trying to be patient!!


Speaking of daunting....I've been shadowing chaplains during orientation at my new job.  They talk about facilities I've never heard of, charting I don't understand, acronyms I'm struggling to learn - ALF, SNF, IDG, COPD, ETC.....  Every day I feel waves of panic threatening to crash.  How am I ever going to assimilate all this?


I try to remember that 15 months ago I was totally overwhelmed in Spartanburg.  I got lost every time I left our office.  I couldn't find Oncology or Surgery.   I was baffled by the triple charting system.  I had to differentiate between NICU, PICU, STICU and CCU.  And suddenly I was taking interviewees on tours, and teaching externs all the ins and outs.  It comes.  It comes.  IT COMES.


John Ortberg writes about an old story of an ambitious young person approaching a master and saying "I want to be your student, your best student.  How long must I study?"
"Ten years."
"But ten years is too long.  What if I study twice as hard as all your other students?"
"Then it will take twenty years."


Deep breath. Be patient.  It comes.


And while I wait,  here is a beautiful prayer from Saint Teresa.


Let naught trouble thee;
Let naught frighten thee;
All Things pass.
God alone changeth not.
Patience can do all things.
Whoever has God, has everything.
God alone sufficeth.