Christmas 2010

It's the day after Christmas. ER is a place of strange scenes and sounds. As I sit with my dozing 92-year-old mother, a machine whirs and beeps out her vitals across its screen. A large lamp hangs over her head amid a tangle of wires and cords. Someone has ripped open the sleeve of her gown to reveal a bloody elbow. She's on oxygen. Nurses, aides, EMTS joke with each other at the desk across from her room. A grandmother weeps in the hall as a child screams in a couple of rooms down. It would be surreal if I hadn't already been here many times before.

Mother has fallen again and been rushed by ambulance to hospital emergency . She believes she can get up by herself, but when she tries she falls. This time she has a nasty bruise with some swelling on the back of her head and a scraped elbow. Her head hurts and her temperature is up a few degrees. They finally tell me she will be admitted overnight for observation. Their patient rooms are full. She will be moved to a room when one is open.

Though I'm sitting in a cold hospital emergency room away from visiting with my children and grandchildren on this holiday weekend, I'm not complaining. A friend of mine lost her mother, yesterday, on Christmas Day. As I watch my mother's dear face, I'm thankful.

Wouldn't it be great if Christmas could be a time out from suffering, death and tears? How wonderful it would be if the peace, joy and hope Christmas pictures could be a reality around the world on Christmas Day every year. No, it's not going to happen, but Christmas reminds us that time is sure to come.

A Gift From God

Sometimes I decide to give a day to God. No, not always Sunday, it can be some other day--a day when I put aside my desires, concerns and personal pleasures and focus on God. I might not eat on that day. I might not watch television or play video games or check Facebook over and over to see what my friends are up to. I don't do laundry or clean house or cook. It's a day to worship, praise, meditate on him. This day is a gift to God.

Now, I have to admit most of the time I have ulterior motives. I'm needing inspiration for an article or a presentation or I need a solution to one of those concerns I'm supposed to have put aside. I'm a natural born worrier.

God is not fooled, of course. He knows my human nature, and, in spite of me, appreciates my attempts to give him a gift. Kind of like children when they bring a somewhat straggly, slightly wilted wild flower to you as a gift. You treat that flower like a treasure, put it in a vase and give your child a big hug. You might give your child a cookie too.

I think that human love response to a child comes from God. Every time I try to give God a day, it turns out he gives me a day instead. On that day with God, my concerns are turned to joys and my stresses are relieved. I'm rested, calmed, and the worrier is now rejoicing because God lets her know she is not totally responsible for solving either her problems or the cares of the world. He reminds her that he knows what's going on and he is still in control. Thank you, Lord.

No Ham, Please

Several years ago when I was volunteering on Monday mornings at the Home Hospice office, at lunch I would grab a sandwich at Subway. Subway has sandwich specials, and Monday is its turkey and ham day. I don't like ham, so every Monday I asked the young person working behind the see-through counter to give me the special but without the ham. They would not comply. In all that time, only once or maybe twice would they do as I asked. So, each time after I paid, on the way out I would unwrap the sandwich, remove the ham and toss it into their trash can.

Last Monday, I happened to be in town so I stopped by Subway. Again, I asked the young man behind the counter if he could leave off the ham on my turkey sandwich. Cheese, yes, ham, no. He shook his head. "I can put it on the side," he said. "OK," I replied. He slipped the ham into one of their envelope-type sacks, wrapped my sandwich and put both in a plastic bag. I paid him and dropped the ham into the trash can on my way out the door.

At Subway it seems rules are rules. When those kids behind the counter are told no alternatives, that's what administration means. When a customer wants something left off their specials, that's money in corporate pockets, I would think, but no. What a waste. I couldn't help thinking about how this affects their young employees. I hope they see through this type of illogic legalism. I hope it encourages them to think for themselves. I hope it's for the better.

A Wanna-Be

Are you a wanna-be? I am. I wanna be fluent in Spanish. I wanna be a good golfer. I wanna be 10 pounds lighter. I wanna memorize scripture. I wanna be a better artist. I remember telling a Jewish professor I would like to learn biblical Hebrew. She answered: "A lot of people want to know Hebrew." I got the message.
Learning another language, losing weight, memorizing scripture, driving golf balls, painting in oils, all take time, discipline and hard work. The apostle Paul even described the Christian life as running a race, not just slowly jogging along but running to win. 1 Corinthians 9:24–10:1 (NIV). Salvation is a gift, but according to Paul, a Christian should live a disciplined life, led by the spirit, not the flesh. The Christian life is not a fearful life, but a life full of interesting challenges.
My problem is prioritizing my challenges. I have too many wannas. Do you have this problem? The writing on my tombstone could read, "She ran out of time." Some years ago now I wrote down everything I considered important to me. Just took out a piece of paper and started writing. Then I prioritized what I had listed according to importance and figured out how much time I spent on the top ten. It's an eye-opening process. I think it's time to do it again.
>b

It's Fall, Finally!

Softly falling raindrops outside. Cooler temperatures. Geese headed south. It's fall--finally! What a summer we've had, especially an August of no rain combined with weeks of 100 plus temperatures. But now a respite before winter sets in. Only subtle changes in the tree leaves but the grasses alongside the roads are seeded out and showing tinges of yellow.

I love the changing seasons. Walking around town in my shirt sleeves in the dead of winter was nice when I lived in Southern California, but I missed the seasons. In one place we lived, our gas fireplace, though real, was designed not to give out much heat. It was there only for its esthetic value. Not so here in Texas.

Life has its seasons as well. (I think there's a song about that.) If we gave each season 25 years, that would make spring ages 1 to 25 years, summer 25 to 50, fall 50 to 75 and winter 75 to 100. Like the annual seasons, there's a lot of variation in each of those seasons. For example, a 1-year-old's life is quite different from that of a 25-year-old, and so on.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this except to say while the earth goes on year after year, season after season, our human life spans don't. If we're fortunate we have spring, summer, fall and winter. My dad didn't make it to fall and a son barely made it to summer. Yet my mother is in her winter years, blessed with a long and full life. My point--whatever season you're in, take time to stop and think about your life. Don't let life pass you by. Take time to enjoy and treasure each day God has blessed you with.

"He Only Visits Church"

I saw a sign in front of a country church: "Jesus lives in the community. He only visits church." I've been intrigued with that statement ever since. I think I agree. When I read about Jesus in Scripture, he was actively doing his Father's will everywhere he went. And, yes, he visited the synagogue and the temple, where he also did his Father's will. Maybe I'm over thinking the whole thing. Probably.

But if Jesus is working everywhere and only visits church, why church? If I asked that question of churchgoers, I would no doubt get a variety of answers. Jesus visiting there is good enough for me, actually. But I'm meandering away from the writer's original statement, which is, Jesus lives in the community. He's not just around one day a week, conveniently going his way right before Sunday afternoon football comes on.

At first I thought the writer was referring to the church as church services or church buildings, not the ecclesia, the body of Christ. The more I think about it, maybe not. "The body of Christ lives in the community. They only visit church." As followers of Jesus we are the body of Christ. We should visit church but more than that, we should be living in the community. That's where Jesus lives and works all week long. That's where we are the lights in the darkness and the salt of the earth.

My Sister's Birthday

My sister's birthday was today. Our birth dates were only 18 months apart, so I don't remember a time when she wasn't around. Some might call my sister a bit of a character, because she didn't pretend to be anything but who she was. She did what she pleased and said what she thought. As one friend said about her: "If you don't like the apples, don't shake the tree."
My sister was smart, pretty, athletic and an artist. She was generous above her means.
My sister was a fighter. When rhematoid arthritis struck her down, she didn't stay down. It was a battle she couldn't win, but that didn't keep her from trying.
We had plans, my sister and me. We would grow old together. We would place our easels side by side and paint beautiful scenery. We would reminisce and tell stories on each other and laugh. I will always miss my sister.