stuff

I sat today in a very tidy house.  Sarah talked about how keeping her home super clean was one of the last controls she had in her life.  She also shared that she had been giving some of her things away to friends and family.  "I am just keeping the things I really love." she explained. "And cleaning out all the possessions I've accumulated in the last 75 years.  It feels really good."


And that started me thinking about stuff.  I have too much.  I want more. I can never find what I am looking for.  And how I might sort things if I had Ms. Sarah's 3-months-to-live perspective.  Here are some random thoughts on stuff.


My cousin Dawn got me excited about vacuum pack, storage bags at Walmart.  I bought five of them. Then I went through my linen closet.  I got rid of old pillows, mismatched sheets and bleach stained towels.  I made a stack of must-keep baby blankets, my college comforters, and an afghan my grandmother knitted for me.  I put them in a couple bags and vacuumed the air out.  Wala! Instead of three overflowing shelves of stuff, I have one compact shelf in flat, see through bags.  And lots of empty space for the boy's growing collection of games.  I am now ready to vacuum pack my entire house.  Contained and organized stuff is better than out-of-control stuff.


When I started my new job I was given a phone.  A nice phone.  But very utilitarian.  Bulky.  Ugly. It has bothered me for months.  Last week I had to go to the phone store and accidently found this sleek, hot pink cover to replace the bulky one I had been given. $14.00 later and my phone is feminine and cheery.  It makes me smile every time I use it.   So do my tangerine pillowcases, the yellow bunny in my bathroom from my mom, my stair wall of pictures and the Loch Ness painting my dad made for me.  There are things all over my house that identify who I am and what I love.  Sometimes stuff does make you happy! 


Oprah quotes organizational expert Peter Walsh from his book Enough Already.  "Our homes are overwhelmed with stuff and our lives littered the empty promises that the stuff didnt fulfill.  In buying what we want, we hope to acquire the life we desire...but chasing the life you want by accumulating more stuff is a dead end street."


Powerful quote.  I want to be more in charge of my stuff, and not the other way around.  And of course, I want to make sure most of my treasures are the moth-free, thief-free, take-with-me-when-I-go kind.


And then there is this verse.  It woos me with an image of a God who delights in my pleasures and has good things in store for me.

I will give you hidden treasures,
   riches stored in secret places,
   I will do this so you may know that I am the Lord,
      the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name.        Isaiah 45:3

unreliable historians

Ten minutes with Mr. Gray yesterday and I was ready to start my new career swirling yogurt at TCBY.  Mr. Gray is a cranky fellow who wanted me to hear all about how his neighbor/ex-friend was stealing money and guns from his home while he was "trapped here in this ridiculous facility." This had happened many times before, he assured me.  And he always got his property back, one way or another.  But this time he had had it.  She was in "big trouble."


After finally extricating myself from the room, I found his regular social worker and shared my concerns.  "Oh, that is Mr. Gray for you."  he replied.  "He suffers from dementia and is a very unreliable historian."


We did take the proper steps and inform the right people that threats had been made.  And I moved to the next room.  But the term "unreliable historian" stuck with me.   


Lately I have been missing Spartanburg. This was brought on by Nathan's resurgence in blogging, an Early Girl lunch with Vicki and an episode of Off The Map where I was able to explain what was happening during an emergency surgical procedure.  And the pining began.  I miss watching the sunrise on the Saluda grade.  I miss crowding around a cafeteria table laughing.  I miss classes loaded with Ah Ha moments.  I miss my NICU babies and the excitement of the ER.  I miss the good old days.  Which probably classifies me as bit of an "unreliable historian."


The truth is that the Saluda sunrise was part of a daily three hour commute.  Cafeteria laughs were often yelps of disbelief at the lack of vegetarian options.  Wonderful Ah Ha moments were interspersed with CPE tears and frustration.  And the ER was hot, scary and sad.  They were good, life changing days.  But they were also long and hard.


What makes is all seem rosy is the growth that happened inside of me there.  And the camaraderie of the fine chaplains/Yaars/friends I was blessed to journey with.  I still find myself whirling around in my chair to share some part of my day with them.  I really miss you guys!


It also helps me to know that I come from a heritage of unreliable historians.  Which is why God wrote these beautiful words to such forgetful children.



² Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years ¹⁰ When you have eaten your fill, be sure to praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you.  ¹¹ “But that is the time to be careful! Beware that in your plenty you do not forget the Lord your God.. ¹⁵ Do not forget that he led you through the great and terrifying wilderness .¹⁷ He did all this so you would never say to yourself, ‘I have achieved this wealth with my own strength and energy.’ ¹⁸ Remember the Lord your God. He is the one who gives you power to be successful, in order to fulfill the covenant he confirmed to your ancestors with an oath.  Deuteronomy 8

fishing

It is such a treat to walk into someone's home, to ask them a few questions, and to hear fascinating stories of war and work, romance and creative living through tough times.  Almost all of my patients are from the Silent Generation - hardworking, traditional, patriotic people, with wonderful tales just waiting to be told.  Most are not silent at all.  I throw out a good question and sit back and enjoy the tales.


And then there are the few for whom the term "like pulling teeth" was invented.
"Have you lived in this area all your life?"
"yep."
"I bet you have seen some big changes around here."
"yep."
"Do your three children live near by?"
"yep."
"What do you do when you all get together?"
"talk."


Help!!!  In these houses I find myself fishing for any topic that will catch their interest and help them open up.  Sometimes it is favorite foods.  Sometimes it is a show they like to watch on TV or local history.  I cast the bait out over and over and hope something will bite.


I was in such a house last week.  I was trying everything and coming up empty.  The patient, her husband and her niece, Jane were crowded together on the couch, mute, uncomfortable and watching me.  I had been there ten minutes.  It felt like ten hours.  I was feeling the urge to bolt.


I turned to Jane and asked "So where exactly do you live?"
"Murphy."
"That's a couple hours away, isn't it?"
"yep."
I began to rack my brain for Murphy trivia.  I could only remember one thing.  And vaguely.  Sheepishly, I cast again.  "Isn't Murphy where that bomber guy hid for awhile?"


Hooked! My three mutes jumped to life.  Talking over each other, they began to share their Eric Rudolph tales.  Egged on by my interest and exclamations they regaled me.  How three times they had passed him hitchhiking on the road to Jane's house.  Of course they didn't know it was him until after the arrest had hit the news.  Then they realized he had been living within a mile of Jane's house.  She was working at the hospital one day when her husband called.  "Honey, the FBI is at our house and want to talk to you."  Knowing her husband to be quite the joker, Jane replied "I'm at work.  If the FBI want to talk, send them here."  15 minutes later a team of FBI agents found Jane at the hospital.  They informed the beyond-shocked Jane that two empty pill bottles with her name and prescription number were found among Rudolph's things at his campsite.  "Had she been supplying him?"  It didn't take long to discover that Rudolph had frequented local dumpsters and gone through the trash.  Jane was free and clear.


Thirty minutes had breezed by when the stories wound down.  I could tell you that they begged me to stay and that we spent the afternoon eating, laughing and praying together.  But that would be a big fish tale.  They did ask me to come back soon.  And I did leave with a happy smile on my face.


Maya Angelou wrote “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” I believe it.  And it makes all the fishing for common ground and connection worth it.

possibility

Today I subbed in for another chaplain at our inpatient facility.   With ten rooms filled I discovered that the patients that day were Pentecostal, Lutheran, Baptist, Catholic, Wesleyan, Presbyterian, "sorta Buddist" and Atheist.  I thought about Paul's goal of being all things to all people as I made the rounds.  (it was that or don my imaginary super woman cape.)


I remember reading that someone asked Elizabeth Kubler Ross "What happens if someone doesn't believe (the way I do)?"  She answered  "They will just be surprised at the transition. We all come from one God, we all return to one God. There is no discrimination after death."


I was in a Bible study group last fall.  One member was a KJV toting Bible scholar.  He knew the text and loved to debate.  One week a guest showed up and offered a heavily liberal opinion.  I waited for Mr. Scholar to jump all over it.  Instead he thoughtfully said "that's a possibility."


That's a possibility.  As the wise Robin might say "Possibilities invite you to keep being curious." I think about that as I listen to patients and families share common ground or quirky brands of faith that sustain them on their journeys.   I think about it when I am tempted to roll my eyes and when I am moved to tears.


For most of my life I have worried that walking into those ten rooms I wouldn't know the right thing to say.   Today, my lack of The Perfect Answer is key to my chaplaining.  The lid is off the box people!    Today I got to enjoy listening, learning and being included in some of those possibilities.