transformation

You see this chair?  It was buried in a pile of old furniture at an antique warehouse.  I was following my friend Angela around as she looked for treasures with her laser beam eyes.  She spotted this chair and pulled me over to it.  "Don't you love it, Erin?"  Uuhh, No.  I mean I could tell by her tone that I should love it.  That somehow this was a Great Chair.  To me it just looked like someone had finally decided to clean off their church platform and had gotten rid of it.  But Angela was still talking.  About colors and fabrics and good bones....

Ten minutes later I was buying the ugly chair and loading it in my car.  I hadn't changed my opinion of the chair.  I had no idea how it was going to become part of my house.  But Angela was sure.  And I trust Angela.

Do you see this beautiful chair?  It is Angela's vision realized.  It's been painted and recovered.  It is one of a kind.  It is blue!  And interesting and admired.  It is probably my favorite piece of furniture in my whole house. I love, love, love it.

Last week Angela and I were talking about our work.  Artists and chaplains. How different they are.  Yet with the same underlying theme.  We both take something bad, seemingly hopeless, grim (a house, a chair, a family waiting for their patient in the trauma bay) and we try to make things better.

Someone had insinuated to Angela that her work was frivolous.  I bristle at that.  There is nothing frivolous about the feeling I get when I walk into my home and sink into the colors and design and furniture and accessories that welcome me.  My living room is lovely. It beckons and refreshes me.   And that is Angela's doing.

Look at this job description -
Must have great vision.
Must have the patience to search and search and find.
Must be able to restore something to its full potential.

Must be willing to redeem something that has been discarded as junk and make it a treasure.
Must employ enormous amounts of creativity, artistry and imagination to get the job done. 

This looks just like Angela's resume.  It also looks like God's.

While we were sinners God died for us. 
We are God's people, redeemed by God's great strength and mighty hand. 
God restores our souls and devises creative ways to draw us close when we get separated.  Romans 5:8, Nehemiah 1:10,   Psalm 23:3, 2 Samuel 14:14 - just to name a few!

Transformation is what God is all about.  And this God like quality is going on all around us.  I think it is the most fascinating topic in the world.  

Transformation is what keeps me glued to shows like Curb Appeal and Iron Chef.  It gets played out every time a teacher teaches a child how to read, or a mechanic fixes a broken down car, or a hair stylist gets out their scissors.    Transformation is what is happening when a pastor takes a sentence from the Bible and makes it come to life.  When a physical therapist helps a person with a broken hip learn to walk again.  When a parent cooks a meal for their family.  When a counselee begins to realize changes in their psyche.  When a chaplain walks into a room filled with hysterical grief and helps a family find acceptance and peace.  It's happening.

Transformation is exciting and meaningful.  I am delighted to see it happening in my house.  And in my life.  I'm not always sure what God is up to, but I'm learning to trust there too.  In the mean time I love getting to be a transformer.  For chaplains and artists and everyone in between -God shares this holy work with us in so many ways.

For I am about to do something new.  See, I have already begun!   Isaiah 43:19

water power

For our last Pastoral Image class we had to submit an image we portrayed in a hospital experience.  Here is one I shared.

Water comes in so many forms.  From the tiniest raindrop to glaciers of ice to warm ocean waves.  All water has the potential for amazing force and energy which maybe harnessed for incredible movement.

Water can be part of a gravity driven process that moves solids and deposits them elsewhere.  It is a transformer of nature and a reformer of the landscape.  To do this it has to be persistent, constant and creative.

The family that stays in my mind were the James’.  My pastoral care started as a little droplet when a nurse on Neuro paged me and told me the family had just received the bad news that Mrs. James had suffered a brain aneurism and would not wake up.  She asked me to come be with them in the consult room.

When I entered the room and introduced myself I could feel the resistance.  They shared that they were not religious, and I could sense uneasiness with a chaplain present.  I gently persisted, got them talking, answered their questions, helped them make plans.

Later I walked them to the patient’s room, carefully eroding some confusion, fear and a resistance to openly grieve. I asked for stories about Mrs. James and their memories brought laughter that washed over us all.  As the end came we cried together and our tears bonded us. 

In the 5 days between first call and Mrs. James’ funeral, we continued to share waves of emotion and experiences.  Rivulets of trust had displaced unease.  I was no longer a stranger, but a familiar current that carried them securely through the hospital and funeral experience.

The Lord says "See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."  Isaiah 43:19