about the presents..

I keep hearing how this time of year is not about the presents.  I hear it from weary parents, worried teachers, wistful leaders.  That even though we are frantically shopping and ordering, planning and hunting, wrapping and mailing, we cannot lose focus of the reason for the season.  That before UPS and Fed Ex, crowded malls and Santa Claus, God became Emmanuel.


God with us -around the tree on Christmas morning.  Where I  get a glimpse of the thoughtful, generous, joyful, abundant nature of the God-head, through the presents being exchanged.


I watched my boys bursting with anticipation and excitement.  They had presents they couldn't wait to open (it's the size of a video game!) and presents they couldn't wait to give. (ebelskievers!)


Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  James 1:17


I memorized the looks of surprise and fulfillment on their faces with presents they had hoped for, (the reptile book!) and presents they had never thought of. (nerf shooters!)


“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9



Over the tearing of paper, I heard Christmas songs mixed with laughter and delight.


You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy;  In Your right hand there are pleasures forever. Psalms 16:11


And afterwards we sat together.  In a pile of wrapping paper and boxes. Counting our blessings.


Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!  2 Corinthians 9:15


Because, in so many ways, it's all about the presents....

a hard battle

Plato once said  "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."


I've been repeating that to myself.  When someone cuts me off in traffic, or snaps at me from behind a desk, or walks ahead of me with slumped shoulders.


"Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."  The older I get, the more I believe it.  Working with hospice opens my eyes to the reality that people die all the time.  Age and sickness take their tolls.  Every day families are gearing up to say their last goodbyes, or unexpectedly saying goodbye, or reeling from saying goodbye.


Out of hospice life is hard too.  You just don't have a trained team anticipating your potential needs.  No nurse IVing your pain away. No social worker arranging for resources.  No chaplain checking your spiritual reservoirs.  Just the words "one day at a time" or "one foot in front of the other" as you trudge through.


I think of the hard battles my loved ones are fighting quietly.  Waiting for a diagnosis.  Hoping for a job.  Struggling with a marriage.  Trying to move on.  Be kind to them please, even if you have no idea why their eyes are sad.  Hopefully, a little kindness will help in some victory.


Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.  Ephesians 4:32

circles of life

There is a lot of talk in hospice of the circle of life.  You are born.  You live.  You die.  This circle reminds us that we aren't the first or the last to go through what we are presently experiencing.

There are smaller circles of life too.  Lighter ones.  I thought about this a few days ago when my son asked me to help him get a gag christmas present for a girl in his class.  It was a hesitant request. This is a very sensitive age relationally.  One wrong move on my part - teasing, probing, assuming, labeling, etc.  and the request would have been withdrawn and I would be blocked out of the loop.  But I played it cool.  I asked just enough to get the idea he was looking for.  I said no more. And then I hunted from store to store to make his idea become reality.  I finally found a darling little $5.00 (right price) teddy bear with a justin bieber (the gag) tee-shirt on that I thought might fit the bill.  My boy's relief and delight was total reward for my searching.

Twenty-four years ago tonight was my first big date with Steve.  It was a Christmas banquet and we were to bring a gift for each other.  This gift had to be PERFECT.  It couldn't cost too much, since I had no money, but it had to be cool and meaningful and express my deep devotion, but with subtlety in case the intensity of feelings were not mutual.  It had to be something he would love, and couldn't live without and..... I had no idea what to get and I had only a few hours left to get it.  As I headed to school I begged my mom to find the impossible gift, whatever it might be, and not embarrass me and wrap it and bring it to me, please, please, please.

Of course she did.  She found a great ski hat and a ski calendar.  Both were super cool and reminiscent of our recent ski trip and hinted to more trips in our future...  I took the calendar and wrote in all of Steve's basketball games, home leaves and friends birthdays.  I gave it to Steve that night.  He loved it!  (So much that he married me 7 years later. :))  Mom - You rock!  I hope my teenage self was grateful and appreciative for your genius and hard work.

And someday my son might find himself searching for the perfect gift for one of his children to give.  It's just one of the circles of life.

Remember His promise forever—from generation to generation.  1 Chronicles 16:15 

confident

There is a phrase that pops up often, in our conversations, in our interdisciplinary team meetings, in our reports of patient encounters.  "And I did not know what to do...."  I realized that I was hearing this from competent, trained, skilled nurses, social workers and chaplains.  I realized that no matter how prepared we are, each situation is unique and the game plan isn't set in stone.  If these people, who I respect, don't always know, maybe it is time for me to relax.


I used to hope that one day I would walk into a room confident that I would know exactly what to do.  Now I walk in with the full confidence that I may not know what to do at all.  But I will figure something out.  Empathy, history, intuition and compassion will guide me.  And in the unknown something real and meaningful will take shape.  Usually surpassing any diagram I could have scripted or planned.


Yesterday morning, my team got a call.  A newly admitted patient had unexpectedly died in the night.   Not only was this a shock, but none of us had met the family.  We didn't know what to prepare for with levels of grief, how well they were supported, how we could minister to them, etc.  Three of us decided we would head immediately to the facility and just see what we could do.


When the family arrived we barely had time to introduce ourselves, before the daughter ran into the patient's room weeping.  Her husband said "She feels horrible that she didn't stop by yesterday.  This is her only time to say goodbye.  We aren't having a service."


And there I was.  Smack dab in the middle of a "what am I supposed to do now?" moment.  Did she want to be alone?  Should I go in?  If I did, should I offer prayer?  Were they expecting that from a chaplain? Or would it be offensive?  I hate feeling pushy.  Should I just talk to the son in law for awhile?  Arrgh.  What should I do?


And then I remembered the idea of full confidence in not having the answer.  I thought about how I would feel if it was my father.  I remembered times I had been able to comfort someone.  I decided that worst thing she could do reject me.  So what.  And I felt the tug to walk with another human through the valley of the shadow of death.  I went in.


I barely made it to her side before she had flung herself into my arms.  She poured out her guilt for not being there, and I assured her of things she already knew.  I offered a prayer of committal and she eagerly accepted.  We spend 30 minutes saying goodbye to the man she'd known all her life, and I'd met one time.  


Then she opened the door and pulled the others in.  Her husband, our nurse and our social worker.  They were already friends with and comforting the husband.  It took 2 hours for the funeral home to arrive.  For two hours the five of us sat with the body.  We listened as they told stories.  We laughed and cried.  We drank coffee and packed up the room.


And then it was time to go.  We hugged and encouraged and waved as they left.  And then the three of us looked at each other and said "Well.  We sure didn't know this is how we were going to spend the morning."


And I am confident in this, that God who began the good work within you, will continue God's work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.  Philippians 1:6

rustling

On my dining room table is a beautiful, red poinsettia plant nestled in a white bowl.  It is the very essence of Christmas.  But this morning I noticed one of it's leaves was wilted and  falling off.  The intense autumn colors have turned to crackling ground cover.  And last night's dusting of snow is now mud.  You don't have to work at hospice to be reminded that beauty is fleeting.


As I sit in patient's rooms I see pictures on their walls and tables of what they used to look like.  Miss Apple Festival whose toothless grin and scraggily hair bare no resemblance to her worn newspaper clippings.  A war hero sailor who now needs assistance to turn over.  A basketball coach who is no longer coordinated enough to feed himself.  The happy young couple who are now confined to separate halls. The attorney whose speech is now gibberish and the scientist who can no longer remember his own name.  Strong, beautiful, intelligent, driven people that age and disease have faded into shadows of themselves.


It makes me value my current mobility and independence.  And wonder what young picture of me will be chosen for my wall someday.  What future chaplain will be straining to make the connection.  And it makes me feel very sad.


And then I remember that with the fall comes the promise of spring.   My favorite C.S. Lewis quote reminds me of this.


At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of the morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Some day, God willing, we shall get in.     The Weight of Glory

best 10 dollars

This weekend I officiated a beautiful, well-attended wedding.  Two attractive young people, relieved to have months of choosing florists and tuxes over, were happy and sparkly.  They stood in a candle lit gazebo in front of their family and friends and promised           
     for better or for worse, for richer, or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, forsaking all others, for as long as we both shall live.


The next day I sat in a trailer sunk into the side of a gravel road.   A husband sat by his wife's hospital bed.  He talked about her cancer and the lines on his face deepened. And then he reminisced.


"We've been married 50 years.  51 in December.  We went to the courthouse one Saturday.  Just her, me, our moms and the judge. Paid him ten dollars."  


"Did you dress up?" I had to ask.  He laughed.  "Wore the best we had.  Don't know that i'd call it dressing up."  He stroked her forehead and tucked a gray hair behind her ear.  She didn't stir.  He took her hand again.


"I'll tell you what.  Best 10 dollars I ever spent."
     for better or for worse, for richer, or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, forsaking all others, for as long as we both shall live.


I think that qualifies as a solid I do.


Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:7

the long way round to Candler..

Many years ago a French Jew moved to a small village in Germany and married Swiss Christian.  They had baby and hired English nanny.  Soon the little French German Gerta was speaking English better then either of her parents.


In 1939 a Cousin in Buenos Aires asked them to come help with his business.  It meant relocating overseas, but a consulate friend pulled strings to make it possible.  Soon the little German family found themselves in big South American city at a confectionery learning to make pies and cakes and pastries.  Many of the families that came in were Italitan so Gerta learned enough Italian to do business.    After a year her mother had had enough of South America and applied to leave.  The consulate friend denied the request saying "You can't leave with a war brewing." Gerta's mother had no idea.  Between working two jobs and raising a child she hadn't had time to read the newspaper.


I asked Gerta what would have happened to their family if they had stayed in Germany, or returned after that first year away.  "We would have died in a concentration camp." She replied matter of factly.


So Father took a second job and worked his way up to doing sales for the finest dressmaking shop in Buenos Aires.  It wasn't long before his connections landed Gerta a part time work in the couture dept.  And in the fashion industry Gerta met a young argentian student.  Luckily she spoke fluent Spanish at that point and they fell in love.  After graduation Paulo took a prestigious job as a scientist in Norway.  Gerta got a job in a furniture store and limped along with her French and English until she learned Norwegian.  After five years Paulo had made a name for himself and was hired by the United Nations.  They moved to New York City and lived there for 30 years.  


I asked Gerta if she missed the world travel.  "I've seen enough." She told me.  "The UN was just our base.  We traveled to Japan and Austria and Italy and Russia.... and other places I can't remember right now."


Twenty years ago Gerta and Paulo were returning home from vacation when the weather got bad.  All the hotels were booked in Knoxville.  A man at a gas station told them to head for Asheville before they got stuck on the road.  They were stuck here for 3 days.  Long enough to fall in love with it.  The next year they came back and soon had purchased a retirement home in Candler.


Which is where I met them.  Candler.  And I enjoyed every minute of the four visits I had with them before Paulo died and Gerta headed out again.  This time to a sister in Florida.


I have a plan for the whole earth, a hand stretched out over all nations.  Isaiah 14:26

vermont

There were thirty minutes before the wedding.  I stood on the porch talking to the bride's father.  He was nervous about the walk down and the "her mother and I's" so I was making small talk.
  
     "So are you from around here?"
    
      "No, we live in Vermont."

Well, I've been to Vermont once.  And can only remember one thing from my trip.  So I threw it out there.

     "My favorite part of Vermont is Waterbury.  The Ben and Jerry ice cream plant."

Sounds impressive right? He laughed.  "I worked there for years.  Senior management."

This man had just become my new best friend.  And lucky for him I'd read Ben and Jerry's Biography and their Value Driven Business book, so we began to talk in earnest.

Mr. Wedding Dad helped Jerry and Ben transition from local ice cream shop in the gas station to major factory and world wide distribution plant.  He was a taste tester for the new Cherry Garcia ice cream and was there when Jerry Garcia flew in to christen it.  He still sees Ben once in a while.  Along with the man that started Stoneyfield and the woman that started the Body Shop.  They were neighbors with local businesses that took off at the same time.

I could have talked all day.  We had flavors to discuss.  And the projected ice cream future. But then the wedding coordinator interrupted us with a pesky request to take our places.

You just never know who you might meet on a porch.

safe

We were watching our kids trick or treat when my sister-in-law chose a snickers bar from her daughter's bag.  "I have to make sure it isn't poisonous!" she explained chewing.  "Nope, you're safe."


 "You're out.  You're safe" were the constant calls ringing in the air from the dodge ball game next to my car in the school yard.


A school bus flashed it's red lights in front of me.  The girl getting out was timid to cross the street until the bus driver yelled "Go.  You are safe."


 And then I sat by a bed today and watched a woman dying.  Her skin was changing color.  Her breathing was labored and erratic.  Her family surrounded her bed.  "She was never without her Bible, " her son told me.  "She and the Lord was close."  "What was her favorite verse?" I asked, thinking I could read it out loud.  "She liked all of them."  he replied.


I leaned close to pray for her.  And then the phrase I had heard all day suddenly seemed so appropriate. Because we are giving her up.  To God the Restorer, the Umpire, the Crossing Guard.   "You are safe Betty.  You are safe.  You are safe.  You are safe."

In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, O Lord, will keep me safe.  Psalm 4:8 NLT

power

I charted by myself today.  Big step.  I've been learning and apprenticing for weeks trying to learn the cumbersome computer system.  Usually my preceptor is close by to question or to help.  But this afternoon I was on my own.


I rocked for a while.  Then I messed up.  Charted a whole patient and my conversation with her daughter.  Saved it.  Locked it.  Then realized that for that patient I had talked to her son.  The daughter belonged to the next patient.   Arrgh.


But I knew what to do.  I called the IT desk, gave my name and number and asked them to "give me the power" to make a correction.  No kidding.  That is the phrase we use.  I've listened to my preceptor do it several times.  But this was the first time I'd asked for the power.


A moment later I was able to unlock, unsave, fix my mistake, resave, relock and move on.  What a little power can do!


On the drive home I shared my mishap with my mom.  She immediately made a connection to the spiritual power we need.  The Power.  The power to unlock, undo, fix, resave and move on in real life.  I remembered something I had read earlier -"that when we are overwhelmed and in need of some kind of escape there is a power greater than ourselves that can restore us to sanity."  Oh yeah,  time to make another kind of call.

God gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Isaiah 40:29

plan B

Our team met this morning to synchronize our care plans for our patients today.  Doctors, Nurses, Social Workers,  and Chaplains.  This quote was read to the group.

Life is all about how you handle plan B.


We realized that being in hospice was never plan A for any of our patients.  But here they are.  How will they handle it?

Someone next to me whispered "Plan B?  I think I'm on Plan Q!"  I had to laugh.  I'm a long ways from plan A myself.

But that little quote has given me lots to think about.  Life is unpredictable and uncontrollable.  Things happen.  To everyone.  How well do I roll with the changes?  How open am I to learning from my mistakes and moving on?  How can I do better at making the best of a situation?

Life is all about how you handle plan B.

lit from within

Our home visit took us winding up a gravel road to a tiny, old house with a beautiful view.  We were greeted at the door by Robert who led us to his beautiful wife sitting quietly in the kitchen.  June has advanced alzheimers.  She smiled blankly at us, but didn't say a word during our visit.


Robert told us about moving to the area 73 years ago.  His mother knew no one and was happy to find another new mom living next door.  For years she would bring her baby, Robert, to the side of the yard and talk over the fence with her neighbor.  And her neighbor brought her little girl, June.  While their moms talked, Robert and June would play with each other through the fence.  As they grew up together the teasing began.  "You and June are going to get married one day!"  "And we did."  Robert said simply. He worked through high school and then bought land across the road from where his parents and June's parents lived.  They built a tiny house that they could afford together and raised four children in it.  All four children live within three miles.  And still gather every Sunday for dinner after church.  For 55 years Robert and June gardened and canned and cooked and entertained together. 


 "Course June can't garden any more.  She doesn't have the strength. We haven't been able to go to church for the last 4 months."  Robert told us matter of factly.  I was struck by the premature loss.  After all these years to go from partner to complete caregiver.  I felt depressed as I looked into the cramped living room overcrowded with memories and a hospital bed.


"How are you holding up?" I asked, bracing for the normal tears, anger, loneliness.  "Me?  No complaints.  We have had  the most blessed life together.  Family, friends, church.  Being able to see the mountains and the trees every day. We are so lucky."


Really?  Poverty, struggle, age, sickness....and you have no complaints? 


That morning I had glanced through an US magazine that had detailed celebrities in trouble.  Gorgeous, rich, glamorous, living in mansions, flying to exotic locations, driving expensive cars, yet addicted, divorcing and in court.  Upgrading their faces and pumping up their images. The contrast between the article and the visit stunned me.


100 years ago German composer Richard Wagner wrote "Joy is not in things; it is in us." 


Today that hit me again, in a new way, that joy is a fire lit from within.   An old house and a deadly disease can't snuff it out.  And wealth and fame will never substitute.


Robert's warm contentment changed my pity to admiration and awe. What a rich, rich man.


I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.  John 15:11

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.

afterwards

The Germans have a little proverb I recently read: "Nacher is jeder klug!" In English it means: "Afterwards, everyone is smart."


Afterwards.....


After 14 months of CPE.  After 150* deaths, 42 overnights, 108 IPR's, 59 Advance Directives, 56 Supervisions,  lots of verbatims, team meetings, PAG sessions, and inter-office huddles.  After hundreds of lunches around the cafeteria tables, and over a thousand visits.  After laughter and tears and frustrations and ah ha moments.
(*very approximate numbering)


Afterwards.  I think of the people I love dearly that I didn't know 14 months ago.   I remember the patients that moved me, their stories becoming part of my story.  I reflect on the classes and discussions and ideas that enhanced and altered me.  I am forever indebted to and grateful for the people who supported me with love and phone calls and encouragement every step of the journey.  I am proud of the skills I've learned and the confidence I've gained.  And despite the long hours and grueling self work, I'm so very thankful for this opportunity.


Afterwards.  I see how, right at the end of four units of CPE, I got the chance to stay for one more summer unit.  And two days before that unit ended I got the job offer I had been wishing and hoping for.  Afterwards it looks so smooth and easy.  I wish I could have known that, and skipped the months of frantic hair pulling and panicky doubt.


Afterwards.  After On Call - The Spartanburg Year.  I've got a week off.  A week to do all the things I didn't do all year because I was driving down the mountain every day.  A week to sleep in or get up early, to putter and organize, to cook a little and drive my boys to school.  To see a movie with my friends and eat lunch with my sister in law.  I am very excited about this week!!!


And then I start over.  A new team, new buildings, new patients, new things to learn.  Maybe a fresh blog.  The beginning of a new Afterwards.  But as CPE guru Robin says "You take everything you've learned with you to the next place."  


I hope so!


The faithful love of the Lord never ends!  God's mercies never cease.  Great is God's faithfulness; with mercies beginning afresh each morning. I say to myself, “The Lord is my inheritance; that's where I will place my hope!”  Lamentations 3:22-24

parents

Early evening dusk was settling over the hospital when I got called to ICU.  I walked into a dim room to see a very thin, thirty-two year-old man breathing erratically.  Doctors had just told his parents that his brain function was gone. Life support had been removed.  Mom and dad were now saying goodbye.   They stood on either side of his bed, leaning over to speak softly into his ears and pat his face.  They held his hands while tears dripped down their faces.  


I had a flash back.  To New Years Eve 1999.  Our first baby boy was almost three months old. By midnight he was all tucked in his crib and had been sleeping for hours.  Too tired to go out, we had invited some friends over and were watching the ball descend in Times Square. 10-9-8- All of a sudden we knew where we wanted to be.  We rushed upstairs and leaned over that little man.  3-2-1.  Happy New Years!!!  We touched his tiny fists and stroked his fuzzy head.  We watched his chest move up and down and marveled at his perfectness.


I remembered all that in the seconds I was standing in the doorway of ICU room 6.  I wondered how many moments of awe these parents had had before choices, cars, buddies and drugs changed the trajectory and length of his life.  I wondered if they'd had any idea how much parenting might hurt.  Or if their hearts would break right out of their chests.   I wondered if I would ever have to stand over my boys in a hospital bed again.  Then I had to stop wondering and start chaplaining.


How often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings... Luke 13:34

oh the places you will go!

Today was my final final evaluations.  We met at resident Andy's house, a parsonage in the woods, and curled up on couches and chairs to read our papers and listen to each other.  The content of the papers was to demonstrate what we have learned, how we have grown in our pastoral ministry, what has changed for us theologically and what impact the patients have had on us.  In between the evals there were breaks for donuts and sweet rolls in the morning and pizza, chips and guacamole in the afternoon.  There was lots of laughter and of course, a few tears.


I closed my five pages with this paragraph.  

"As I mentioned earlier the last few months have been very uncomfortable as I face transition and don’t know the end result. I feel that my faith has been tested, parts of my embedded theology unearthed, and my emotions have covered the gamet of despair, anger, peace and confusion. But through the doubts, questions, fears and tantrums I still feel a sense of God’s presence. My desire is to have the faith I read about with the fiery furnace. “The God we trust is able to save us….But even if He does not, (save us the way we have in mind) we will follow Him.” Daniel 3:17, 18"

When I collected my evaluations back, I saw that Taylor had circled we will follow Him and written under it  "oh the places you will go!  Peace my friend."  Thank you Taylor.

Tonya closed her eval with this reassuring quote.  I immediately copied it and have it visible to read often.

I beg you...to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noting it, live your way into the answer...  Rainer Maria Rilke


Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34