When I nervously sent my firstborn off to kindergarten, a church lady kindly offered to babysit Bright Eyes and Dimples so that I could volunteer at the school once a week. It was a godsend. That kindergarten year was more than we had bargained for. It was a very stressful, chaotic environment for poor Sunny. Seeing the classroom firsthand and interacting with the other students gave me the perspective I needed to support Sunny through that year.
I met the autistic boy who regularly had epic rages of throwing chairs and smashing things. I worked with a precious blond-haired boy with learning disabilities, sensory processing issues, and probably several other labels were you to read his file. I heard that blond boy defeatedly reply, when encouraged to work hard on a particular assignment so that his parents would be proud, "They don't care about me."
And then there was Aaron. I couldn't find a box to put Aaron in. He had some serious trouble with self-control, but he wasn't ADHD. He wasn't on the autism spectrum. It was definitely more than "Five Year Old Boys Can't Sit Still for Eight Hours" syndrome.
It was almost the end of the year when I finally learned the missing link to understanding Aaron. His situation was heartbreaking. The circumstances of his life had already, at five years old, set him on a path towards a future controlled by the enemy. If nothing changed in his world, I was filled with sorrow picturing what he would become.
And so I prayed.
I pleaded for God to intervene. I fervently asked the Father to save that boy's soul. I felt so honored to be in that class, during that year, to meet that kid, in order to pray for him. Because who was there in his sphere to pray for his good?
The eyes of the Lord are in every place. I imagined a kids' sci-fi cartoon with a big robot walking the streets of the city. Out of the robot's eyes shined green light beams, and you could tell where it was looking based on where the green lights were. The robot was remotely controlled by the villain in a tower somewhere. The villain had a computer screen for the RoboCam. All the visual imput from the robot was viewed by the villain.
Okay now that you have the visual of what I'm trying to convey, imagine that it isn't a bad guy watching the RoboCam. It's God. Yeah, God can see everything all by Himself, but the eyes of His followers are like special security cameras that give Him footage of the people we come into contact with. Through us, He can see the hurting, humble, lost, and tender-hearted. He can see which hearts are desperate for Him, who are trapped and longing for freedom. We can shine a searchlight on people like Aaron and shout, "Hey God! We found him! He's over here and he needs rescue!"
Man have I prayed for that kid.
First grade came and went, and Sunny was not in the same class as Aaron anymore. Second grade came (and has almost went) and they were in different classes. I have continued to pray, although I no longer had contact with Aaron or information about how he was doing.
Then, on the very last night of Awana for the year, I walked into the Sparks room and was shocked to see Aaron standing right in front of me.
"AARON???!!!???"
Aaron had been brought to Awana by the son of one of my mom friends. Praise the Lord!
As the Awana night unfolded, it was extremely apparent to the other Awana leaders that Aaron was a challenge. You didn't have to know him to be able to tell that he 1) didn't come from a church-going background, and 2) he really, REALLY needed to be exposed to Jesus and His followers. At the end of the night, I was gushing. "You guys!!!" I told the other leaders, "I HAVE BEEN PRAYING FOR THIS KID FOR THREE YEARS!!!"
The next week, I was able to talk to my mom friend who had brought him. She said that her son and Aaron were in the same Cub Scouts pack. Also, in the fall they had been on the same sports team. His parents were in the middle of a divorce, and his mom's new boyfriend attended church at Antioch. As a result, Aaron and his mom had started going to Antioch too. Well it just so happens that my mom friend goes to Antioch. So God effectively DUMPED my friend's family into Aaron's life. I am amazed.
I'm amazed to see any results of my prayers at all. But I'm super amazed that the Lord used a friend of mine to answer my prayers! It's so cool! She had no idea that I even knew Aaron, much less that I was praying for him. I had no idea that she knew Aaron, much less that her family was in the process of building into him. They now have him over fairly often. He commented one time, "Your family is awesome!" Oh my word, it's such a miracle for him to witness a stable, loving, God-fearing family.
We are not out of the woods yet. There is much, much more to be done for Aaron to become a committed disciple of Christ. And unfortunately, Awana is now over for the year and Cub Scouts will end soon. I am certainly not relieved of my duty to pray for him. But there is hope! And hope does not disappoint.
Showing posts with label making a difference. Show all posts
Showing posts with label making a difference. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Bible Sisters Inspire Confidence
Last night we had dinner at "Chick-a-way" as a special treat. We're technically not supposed to eat Chick-a-way, but every now and then we cave in. The BabyGirl of course LOVES the play place. And with 8 inches of snow of the ground, what kid wouldn't???
The trouble is that as much as she loves it, she is too timid and cautious to climb up through the tunnels. Honestly i don't blame her, it is very high up and you cannot see most of it from the ground, so you wouldn't know until you were up there what it is like or where it goes. She is definitely a girl who likes to study a thing and think about it before proceeding. To a little girl, those stairs going up to a hidden tunnel that becomes a slide look a whole lot like the treacherous stairs that Gollum leads Frodo and Sam up in The Return of the King. She has no proof that there is not an enormous, deadly spider lurking inside. So she stays on the ground, running around and enjoying the general excitement and hullabaloo typical of an indoor play place. Nonetheless, she is missing out on a major part of the experience.
Currently she also LOVES other girls. She gets soooo excited to see girls when we are out and about at the grocery, Walmart, restaurants, or wherever. Other girls are her favorite.
While we were eating our dinner at Chick-a-way, before going to the play place, i saw a family with three beautiful brown-haired stairstep girls come in. They sat several booths away, out of view of the BabyGirl. I knew she was going to go nuts over those girls. You know how sometimes you can just tell by the look of a family that they are quality people? This family had that look. I am not sure exactly how old the girls were, from my estimate maybe 8, 6, and 4.
Once we finished eating, The Professor and the BabyGirl took off for the playplace. Not long after, the brown-haired stairstep sisters went in also. Bright Eyes and i stayed at our table. I did not have a full view of the playplace; i could only see a small portion. They played in there for what seemed like forever to a person holding a wiggly, squiggly, bouncy, squeeling baby.
When The Professor and the BabyGirl emerged triumphantly, The Professor announced, "The BabyGirl climbed up to the top! And went down the slide! She did it and it was so much fun!" Her proud, beaming face confirmed his assertions.
I wondered what in the world had motivated her to take the plunge and go for it??? The Professor told me the story:
She did in fact notice the Stairstep Sisters and began playing with them. She told them, "I'm chasing you!" and they had fun pretending to be chased. Then they bounded up the stairs and she stopped dead in her tracks like they had just run into a pit of molten lava. The oldest sister noticed that the BabyGirl was not following. She said sweetly, "Don't you want to chase us?"
Then the three sisters took the BabyGirl under their wing. They led her up the steep stairs and guided her through the tunnels. They played with her up there in the highest heights and looked after her. Then they helped her onto the slide, where she zoomed down and was scooped up into The Professor's safe arms.
The Professor overheard the sister's names during the course of all the playing: Esther, Abigail, and Naomi. I knew there was a reason that i liked those girls! The BabyGirl fit right in. If her hair was a little less auburn and a little more brown, she could have passed as their fourth sister. They certainly treated her as such! I'm so greatful to them for their compassion. They took the time to notice a shy 2-year-old in a crowd of running kids, and it blessed her tremendously. They embodied all kinds of Bible verses that they may or may not have even learned yet. And they definitely exhibited the same strength of character as their namesakes.
May God bless the Bible Sisters, and continue the good work that He has done in their hearts!
The trouble is that as much as she loves it, she is too timid and cautious to climb up through the tunnels. Honestly i don't blame her, it is very high up and you cannot see most of it from the ground, so you wouldn't know until you were up there what it is like or where it goes. She is definitely a girl who likes to study a thing and think about it before proceeding. To a little girl, those stairs going up to a hidden tunnel that becomes a slide look a whole lot like the treacherous stairs that Gollum leads Frodo and Sam up in The Return of the King. She has no proof that there is not an enormous, deadly spider lurking inside. So she stays on the ground, running around and enjoying the general excitement and hullabaloo typical of an indoor play place. Nonetheless, she is missing out on a major part of the experience.
Currently she also LOVES other girls. She gets soooo excited to see girls when we are out and about at the grocery, Walmart, restaurants, or wherever. Other girls are her favorite.
While we were eating our dinner at Chick-a-way, before going to the play place, i saw a family with three beautiful brown-haired stairstep girls come in. They sat several booths away, out of view of the BabyGirl. I knew she was going to go nuts over those girls. You know how sometimes you can just tell by the look of a family that they are quality people? This family had that look. I am not sure exactly how old the girls were, from my estimate maybe 8, 6, and 4.
Once we finished eating, The Professor and the BabyGirl took off for the playplace. Not long after, the brown-haired stairstep sisters went in also. Bright Eyes and i stayed at our table. I did not have a full view of the playplace; i could only see a small portion. They played in there for what seemed like forever to a person holding a wiggly, squiggly, bouncy, squeeling baby.
When The Professor and the BabyGirl emerged triumphantly, The Professor announced, "The BabyGirl climbed up to the top! And went down the slide! She did it and it was so much fun!" Her proud, beaming face confirmed his assertions.
I wondered what in the world had motivated her to take the plunge and go for it??? The Professor told me the story:
She did in fact notice the Stairstep Sisters and began playing with them. She told them, "I'm chasing you!" and they had fun pretending to be chased. Then they bounded up the stairs and she stopped dead in her tracks like they had just run into a pit of molten lava. The oldest sister noticed that the BabyGirl was not following. She said sweetly, "Don't you want to chase us?"
Then the three sisters took the BabyGirl under their wing. They led her up the steep stairs and guided her through the tunnels. They played with her up there in the highest heights and looked after her. Then they helped her onto the slide, where she zoomed down and was scooped up into The Professor's safe arms.
The Professor overheard the sister's names during the course of all the playing: Esther, Abigail, and Naomi. I knew there was a reason that i liked those girls! The BabyGirl fit right in. If her hair was a little less auburn and a little more brown, she could have passed as their fourth sister. They certainly treated her as such! I'm so greatful to them for their compassion. They took the time to notice a shy 2-year-old in a crowd of running kids, and it blessed her tremendously. They embodied all kinds of Bible verses that they may or may not have even learned yet. And they definitely exhibited the same strength of character as their namesakes.
May God bless the Bible Sisters, and continue the good work that He has done in their hearts!
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Making a Difference: The Professor
By now you have all seen this on facebook, but i want to preserve it for posterity so i'm posting it here too:
The Professor was featured in our local newspaper! A colleague jokingly commented to him, "When i saw your name and picture in the paper, i got really worried! It's usually a bad sign to have your picture in the news!"
Thankfully, The Professor has not become a mass murderer. Instead he is inspiring his students to change the world. Every semester he has his Ethics classes complete an assignment in which they perform an ethical deed. The results range from tear-jerking to pathetic. While one student spent a day helping a man with Multiple Sclerosis, another decided to smile at each person they saw while out walking.
When this article was published, The Professor was the big man on campus for a day. Tons of faculty and staff that he didn't even know gave him their congratulations. It generated a lot of dialogue about ethical actions. The janitor who cleans his office told him that she and her husband had a long discussion about the article and enjoyed coming up with ideas for good deeds they would do if they were in his class.
It really has been neat to see how this class project has changed the perspectives of many of his students. Now through the article, even more people have been challenged to meet the needs around them.
College ethics class asks students to test impact of acting ethically
Updated: 24 November 2012 | 4:23 pm
For three semesters, K***** College instructor "The Professor" has charged his ethics students to do something they would consider ethically right.
The Professor, a philosophy instructor on the Cornstalk campus, said he felt what he had been assigning in the past was too much memorization and “too much on the objective knowledge instead of really trying to see the impact, not just theoretically, but in their lives.”
The ethics project, which is 10 percent of the students’ grades, could be something large or small, but it had to be something they wouldn’t have done otherwise, without the assignment.
About 30 students in The Professor’s ethics classes last fall and last spring and about 25 students this fall semester took those parameters and returned with projects that inspired their teacher, with stories of helping elderly neighbors, picking up trash in the park and donating time to charities.
“I think much of what I see from the students is very encouraging, very inspiring,” he said. “It definitely confirms to me that there’s value in this kind of project.”
One student volunteered to help arrange 500 vases of flowers to be delivered to cancer patients. Another student reported she could see and hear how grateful an elderly couple was after she anonymously paid for their dinner at the Olive Garden. A Cornstalk City student last fall, Boussina, taught her friend, a Sudanese immigrant like herself, how to drive so she could find a job.
Heather wanted to do something long-lasting for her ethics project. Heather, 24, is a first-year K****** student studying horticulture.
She signed up for the bone marrow donor registry for her project this fall. And because getting on the donor list took a little longer than she expected, she also donated blood, which she wrote about for the class.
“I wanted to do something a little above and beyond,” Heather said. “Everyone is getting so apathetic. I think the ethics project is a great way to get people off their couches and off their stupid cellphones and into the community. I was pretty excited about it.”
Heather also had a cousin who had leukemia and needed a bone-marrow transplant, so she thought joining the donor list “was like paying it forward.”
For her project last spring semester, Stephanie found an elderly man seeking assistance with home chores on the website Craigslist, after his son was hospitalized and could no longer help him. She enlisted some of her friends and they helped the man with his yard, house cleaning and walking his dog. The man offered to pay them, which they declined. At the end of her paper, Stephanie wrote that the man was so happy and grateful.
“He said he was glad to see there were actually genuine, caring people left in the world, as he had almost given up hope,” she wrote.
The assignment, The Professor said, was inspired in part by Aristotle.
“I hope that this assignment helps students to live well and also, by extension, to benefit the surrounding community,” he said.
The Professor was featured in our local newspaper! A colleague jokingly commented to him, "When i saw your name and picture in the paper, i got really worried! It's usually a bad sign to have your picture in the news!"
Thankfully, The Professor has not become a mass murderer. Instead he is inspiring his students to change the world. Every semester he has his Ethics classes complete an assignment in which they perform an ethical deed. The results range from tear-jerking to pathetic. While one student spent a day helping a man with Multiple Sclerosis, another decided to smile at each person they saw while out walking.
When this article was published, The Professor was the big man on campus for a day. Tons of faculty and staff that he didn't even know gave him their congratulations. It generated a lot of dialogue about ethical actions. The janitor who cleans his office told him that she and her husband had a long discussion about the article and enjoyed coming up with ideas for good deeds they would do if they were in his class.
It really has been neat to see how this class project has changed the perspectives of many of his students. Now through the article, even more people have been challenged to meet the needs around them.
College ethics class asks students to test impact of acting ethically
Updated: 24 November 2012 | 4:23 pm
For three semesters, K***** College instructor "The Professor" has charged his ethics students to do something they would consider ethically right.
The Professor, a philosophy instructor on the Cornstalk campus, said he felt what he had been assigning in the past was too much memorization and “too much on the objective knowledge instead of really trying to see the impact, not just theoretically, but in their lives.”
The ethics project, which is 10 percent of the students’ grades, could be something large or small, but it had to be something they wouldn’t have done otherwise, without the assignment.
About 30 students in The Professor’s ethics classes last fall and last spring and about 25 students this fall semester took those parameters and returned with projects that inspired their teacher, with stories of helping elderly neighbors, picking up trash in the park and donating time to charities.
“I think much of what I see from the students is very encouraging, very inspiring,” he said. “It definitely confirms to me that there’s value in this kind of project.”
One student volunteered to help arrange 500 vases of flowers to be delivered to cancer patients. Another student reported she could see and hear how grateful an elderly couple was after she anonymously paid for their dinner at the Olive Garden. A Cornstalk City student last fall, Boussina, taught her friend, a Sudanese immigrant like herself, how to drive so she could find a job.
Heather wanted to do something long-lasting for her ethics project. Heather, 24, is a first-year K****** student studying horticulture.
She signed up for the bone marrow donor registry for her project this fall. And because getting on the donor list took a little longer than she expected, she also donated blood, which she wrote about for the class.
“I wanted to do something a little above and beyond,” Heather said. “Everyone is getting so apathetic. I think the ethics project is a great way to get people off their couches and off their stupid cellphones and into the community. I was pretty excited about it.”
Heather also had a cousin who had leukemia and needed a bone-marrow transplant, so she thought joining the donor list “was like paying it forward.”
For her project last spring semester, Stephanie found an elderly man seeking assistance with home chores on the website Craigslist, after his son was hospitalized and could no longer help him. She enlisted some of her friends and they helped the man with his yard, house cleaning and walking his dog. The man offered to pay them, which they declined. At the end of her paper, Stephanie wrote that the man was so happy and grateful.
“He said he was glad to see there were actually genuine, caring people left in the world, as he had almost given up hope,” she wrote.
The assignment, The Professor said, was inspired in part by Aristotle.
“I hope that this assignment helps students to live well and also, by extension, to benefit the surrounding community,” he said.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Tenderhearted
My debilitating, unbearable Sacroiliac Joint pain is back. With a vengeance. I've been in horrible pain for a week. Sometimes i can barely walk. It also hurts when i sit down. Lying in bed is painful too.
The Professor and the BabyGirl have been so wonderful to me in my suffering. After i'd already endured several days and it wasn't getting better, my coping skills disappeared. On one particular day when the pain was really bad, i started crying. The BabyGirl and i were sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch, and i just burst into tears without warning. At first she looked at me with a "what in the world is happening here" expression. But within seconds it changed into concern. She said to me softly and with compassion, "Mama crying. Why tears, Mama?"
I told her that i was going to rest on the couch and finish my crying; she nodded understandingly. I remembered to grab a box of tissues en route and the BabyGirl trotted after me. As soon as i got settled down on the couch (which is no small feat), i wanted a glass of water so badly. Well, as luck would have it, one of her favorite things in this world is carrying my water cup. Most of the time she is prohibited from doing so because it results in lots of spilled water.
When i nicely asked her to please fetch my water cup from the kitchen table, she thought it was her lucky day. It was as if she was born for this. She was SO HAPPY to run back into the kitchen and get my water cup from the table. The task should only have taken a second. Instead, i heard chairs being pushed around and some grunting. Then she mumbled to herself something about, "Reach!" Finally she returned triumphantly with a cup in hand. Unfortunately, it was not my current water cup that was left on the edge of the table within easy reach. It was Daddy's water cup from dinner last night, which had not been cleared away. It had been moved to the very center of the table where you could not easily get to it if you happened to be 36 inches tall. But she had gone after that day-old water cup with everything she had. She climbed and grunted and reached until she claimed her prize. Mama had requested water, and the BabyGirl was not going to return empty-handed.
She was so pleased with herself as she presented me with the day-old cup she had procured. I thanked her profusely and made a big deal about what a great helper she was and such a big girl to get the cup all by herself. Nonetheless, i couldn't bring myself to drink the small amount of water that was in that cup. Day-old Daddy backwash was swimming on the surface and taunting me. It really grossed me out.
But i was so touched by her desire to help that it took my mind off the pain a little. Then she sat down next to me and snuggled up close. She gently rubbed my leg and said, "All better, Mama. All better."
I'm so greatful for that moment. She doesn't have the first idea about sacroiliac joints, but she dropped everything to be present with me when i was in need. She has repeatedly demonstrated her compassion during her short life, and i am so impressed by her caring nature.
A few weeks ago it was my turn to serve in the nursery. The kids were sitting in chairs quietly eating their crackers at snack time. A mom came in carrying her three-year-old girl who was in the middle of a tantrum. It wasn't a kicking, thrashing tantrum; it was a fairly well composed crying tantrum. The girl just wanted to cry and nothing else. She didn't want to be comforted by her mom, she didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want to be distracted with toys, she just wanted to cry. So her mom put her in a chair in the corner and left.
Most of the kids in the nursery took little notice of this. They continued enjoying their snack. The BabyGirl, however, was full of concern. She had such a worried look on her face when she said to me, "Girl is crying!" I asked the BabyGirl if she wanted to go give her a hug, which is exactly what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, the crying girl wasn't so much in the mood for a hug. She had her head buried in her lap, and none of her body parts were very accessible. The BabyGirl did the best she could and hugged as much of the girl as she could get to.
(We later found out that the crying girl had lice at the time (her mom didn't discover the critters until that afternoon), so i was VERY RELIEVED that the hug wasn't a close embrace!)
Once again, the situation proved that the BabyGirl is a very tenderhearted soul who is attentive to others.
I didn't fully grasp the significance of all these things until a friend asked me if the BabyGirl was treating me okay while i'm so physically limited. I told her that the BabyGirl's favorite pasttime is snuggling, and that she is perfectly happy to curl up with me and read books. My friend was shocked. She has three little boys, so she didn't even know that such a thing as snuggling existed in the world. Her boys want to spend all day playing Hide & Seek, Superheroes Jump Off the Couch, and Pillow Attack.
It was the words "pillow attack" that really got to me. I'm pretty sure that pillow attack would be the end of me. The only foreseeable outcomes are either several weeks in traction, or a Clinitron bed with a Sip 'n Puff.
I was extremely greatful for my BabyGirl prior to that conversation, and now i'm exponentially more greatful! Praise the Lord for snuggles instead of pillow attack.
I am excited to see the plans that God has for the BabyGirl, and the ways in which she will be able to apply her gift of compassion. I pray that He gives me the wisdom and insight to point her towards the woman He created her to be.
The Professor and the BabyGirl have been so wonderful to me in my suffering. After i'd already endured several days and it wasn't getting better, my coping skills disappeared. On one particular day when the pain was really bad, i started crying. The BabyGirl and i were sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch, and i just burst into tears without warning. At first she looked at me with a "what in the world is happening here" expression. But within seconds it changed into concern. She said to me softly and with compassion, "Mama crying. Why tears, Mama?"
I told her that i was going to rest on the couch and finish my crying; she nodded understandingly. I remembered to grab a box of tissues en route and the BabyGirl trotted after me. As soon as i got settled down on the couch (which is no small feat), i wanted a glass of water so badly. Well, as luck would have it, one of her favorite things in this world is carrying my water cup. Most of the time she is prohibited from doing so because it results in lots of spilled water.
When i nicely asked her to please fetch my water cup from the kitchen table, she thought it was her lucky day. It was as if she was born for this. She was SO HAPPY to run back into the kitchen and get my water cup from the table. The task should only have taken a second. Instead, i heard chairs being pushed around and some grunting. Then she mumbled to herself something about, "Reach!" Finally she returned triumphantly with a cup in hand. Unfortunately, it was not my current water cup that was left on the edge of the table within easy reach. It was Daddy's water cup from dinner last night, which had not been cleared away. It had been moved to the very center of the table where you could not easily get to it if you happened to be 36 inches tall. But she had gone after that day-old water cup with everything she had. She climbed and grunted and reached until she claimed her prize. Mama had requested water, and the BabyGirl was not going to return empty-handed.
She was so pleased with herself as she presented me with the day-old cup she had procured. I thanked her profusely and made a big deal about what a great helper she was and such a big girl to get the cup all by herself. Nonetheless, i couldn't bring myself to drink the small amount of water that was in that cup. Day-old Daddy backwash was swimming on the surface and taunting me. It really grossed me out.
But i was so touched by her desire to help that it took my mind off the pain a little. Then she sat down next to me and snuggled up close. She gently rubbed my leg and said, "All better, Mama. All better."
I'm so greatful for that moment. She doesn't have the first idea about sacroiliac joints, but she dropped everything to be present with me when i was in need. She has repeatedly demonstrated her compassion during her short life, and i am so impressed by her caring nature.
A few weeks ago it was my turn to serve in the nursery. The kids were sitting in chairs quietly eating their crackers at snack time. A mom came in carrying her three-year-old girl who was in the middle of a tantrum. It wasn't a kicking, thrashing tantrum; it was a fairly well composed crying tantrum. The girl just wanted to cry and nothing else. She didn't want to be comforted by her mom, she didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want to be distracted with toys, she just wanted to cry. So her mom put her in a chair in the corner and left.
Most of the kids in the nursery took little notice of this. They continued enjoying their snack. The BabyGirl, however, was full of concern. She had such a worried look on her face when she said to me, "Girl is crying!" I asked the BabyGirl if she wanted to go give her a hug, which is exactly what she wanted to do. Unfortunately, the crying girl wasn't so much in the mood for a hug. She had her head buried in her lap, and none of her body parts were very accessible. The BabyGirl did the best she could and hugged as much of the girl as she could get to.
(We later found out that the crying girl had lice at the time (her mom didn't discover the critters until that afternoon), so i was VERY RELIEVED that the hug wasn't a close embrace!)
Once again, the situation proved that the BabyGirl is a very tenderhearted soul who is attentive to others.
I didn't fully grasp the significance of all these things until a friend asked me if the BabyGirl was treating me okay while i'm so physically limited. I told her that the BabyGirl's favorite pasttime is snuggling, and that she is perfectly happy to curl up with me and read books. My friend was shocked. She has three little boys, so she didn't even know that such a thing as snuggling existed in the world. Her boys want to spend all day playing Hide & Seek, Superheroes Jump Off the Couch, and Pillow Attack.
It was the words "pillow attack" that really got to me. I'm pretty sure that pillow attack would be the end of me. The only foreseeable outcomes are either several weeks in traction, or a Clinitron bed with a Sip 'n Puff.
I was extremely greatful for my BabyGirl prior to that conversation, and now i'm exponentially more greatful! Praise the Lord for snuggles instead of pillow attack.
I am excited to see the plans that God has for the BabyGirl, and the ways in which she will be able to apply her gift of compassion. I pray that He gives me the wisdom and insight to point her towards the woman He created her to be.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Baby Mine
In the mom’s online discussion group that I’m a part of, my
friend Emily shared a link to a post about “Your Children Want YOU!” It’s about
being present instead of being pinterest. To be a mom who listens and loves. In
the post, the author mentions her ritual of singing the song “Baby Mine” to her
daughter every night. I thought, “Oh that’s so sweet! I love that song; I’ll
sing it too.” I had to google the lyrics because I hadn’t heard it since I was
6 years old watching Dumbo. I couldn’t even read through the lyrics without
bawling my eyes out. Oh dear, I thought, I’ll never be able to sing this song
out loud if I can’t even read the lyrics silently!
for Sarah K
At my next snuggle session with the BabyGirl, I decided to
try it out. But I could only remember a line or two:
Rest your head close to my heart,
Never depart, baby of mine.
She said, “More,” so I sang it again. And again. And again.
For several days, she would request, “Sing more Baby Mine,” and I would sing
those two lines.
Those beautiful, timeless moments of snuggles and singing
are what gives life to parenthood. At other times, however, things aren’t so well
under our control. Being out of control leads to incapacitating Mom Worry.
At the BabyGirl’s 4 day check-up, the pediatrician found
some concerning heart issues and sent us to the ER at Children’s for further
testing. Well, the further testing was concerning too, so the ER visit turned
into an ICU admission for a million-dollar cardiac workup. That night, after
spending the entire day bouncing from doctor’s office to ER to ICU, we had to
leave her there in the hospital. She was staying there alone, hooked up to
wires and monitors. We were going home alone, without our bundle of joy.
We cried and prayed together and asked God to watch over her
for us while we were away. I was terrified, that having endured the most
grueling and traumatic birth of 90% of women I know, that I would lose her four
days later.
Prior to having kids, I wasn’t too bothered by the cosmic
questions of Why Do Things Happen. Issues like the problem of suffering, and to
what extent does God control each event, were things that The Professor enjoyed
wrestling with but didn’t hold my attention. Until I myself experienced
suffering. Then I was plagued with all sorts of questions. Why did I have a
difficult birth? Why was I in constant pain for months on end? Why did the
BabyGirl have to spend a week in the ICU? What is God doing here? What is the
point of this?
The thing of it is, my story isn’t the one that breeds
questions. I have a friend whose twins were born 12 weeks early. Everyday she
made a 3 hr round trip to the NICU to hold their fragile bodies in her arms and
beg God that they would live. I worked with a nurse whose son had active
hemophilia. One day she got a panicked call from the nanny and had to rush home
to give him a blood transfusion. Another friend’s baby was born with a birth
defect that required 4 surgeries before she was a year old. Another friend’s
two sons had such severe learning disabilities and behavioral problems that she
was constantly worried they’d be kicked out of another school.
Talk about Mom Worry! But it doesn’t even take extreme
circumstances to ignite a bout of Mom Worry; the little things can do it too. Your
infant chokes on something in the church nursery. Your toddler runs out into
the street. Your child stands a little too close to the edge of a bridge. And
then, oh my heavens, they turn into teenagers.
Mom Worry is everywhere. Some people face it earlier than
others. For some it strikes in early pregnancy. Others don’t encounter it until
after the baby is born. And others may not fully experience it until years
later. But I think we all suffer from it.
In all my time of grappling with the big questions of Why, I
keep coming back to this verse:
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away;
May the name of the Lord be praised.
This baby of mine? She isn’t really mine. She is a gift from
the Lord. He gave her to me, and I am honored to be her steward. But if I believe
that this world isn’t my home, then it’s not her home either. If I am temporary
here, then she is temporary here.
Our pastor has been preaching through Genesis, and we just
studied the account of Leah and Rachel. Poor Leah was unloved and unwanted, but
the Lord blessed her with children. With each son that she bore, she thought
she would find the fulfillment that she sought. It took her until the fourth
son, Judah, to be able to say, “This time I will praise the Lord.”
That’s how I am; too knuckleheaded to learn a lesson the
first three times. When I imagine her story, I think about all the things
outside her control. She was forced to marry a man who didn’t want her. She had
to then share that man with her sister. She thought having a son would make him
love her. She thought having two and three sons would make him love her. But
finally, she saw the truth: I can control nothing in this life. All I can do is
praise the Lord.
for Sarah K
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Neither Snow, Nor Rain, Nor Gloom of Night
One day last week, the BabyGirl forced me to take her on a walk.
We were playing outside, which is her #1 all-time favorite thing to do. We hadn't been out there very long when she went in the garage and started pulling at the stroller. Just the day before we'd had a playdate at a potential friend's house, and they had a little doll stroller that the BabyGirl LOVED. She pushed that doll stroller all over their house. So when she was yanking at the stroller, i thought she wanted to push it around. Granted, it is much more difficult for her to maneuver than a doll stroller, but she doesn't always think these kinds of things through.
I put the stroller out on the driveway for her to push around. She played with it for about 0.5 seconds and then started emphatically motioning toward the seat of the stroller. I said to her incredulously, "You want to get IN the stroller?"
The reason that i was incredulous is because we were currently playing outside. Usually, nothing trumps playing outside. I have never in her short little life seen her want to do anything else while she is playing outside. Playing outside is Optimus Prime, and nothing in the world matters while you are playing outside. Not mealtime, not naptime, not diaper changes, not thunderstorms, nothing. She will play outside regardless of the weather. I had a hard time believing that she wanted to get in the stroller.
Nonetheless, she ceased her whining when i posed her the question, so as a test i put her in the stroller, fully believing she would be very unhappy once she was in there.
She was not unhappy.
I thought to myself, "Great! I have a couple of things to do around the yard, and with you contained in the stroller i can actually do them." I pushed her over to a corner of the yard and started picking up some debris. She then began fussing and vehemently motioning to the back of the stroller. I said, "I knew it! You don't actually want to be in the stroller; you want to push it around."
I started unfastening the straps in order to take her out of the stroller; major protesting ensued. She was still pointing behind the stroller. I said (incredulously once again), "You want me to push you in the stroller?"
Finally, after this long game of charades, it dawned on me that she must want to go for a walk. I asked, "Walk??? You want to go for a walk?"
She exploded into happiness, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Wok!"
I said, "Um, okay i guess. But i need to get my phone first." I ran inside to grab my phone and then we departed on our walk. About 2 minutes into it, i realized that i needed to go to the bathroom and if i'd been in charge, i also would have worn different shoes. The BabyGirl, however, had it made in the shade. She was relaxing in the comfort and convenience of the stroller, enjoying the blue sky and fresh air while leaving all the physical work to me. How sweet.
Yesterday she was at it again. It was late afternoon, and i was washing dishes. She put on her shoes, brought me her jacket, and said, "Outside!?!" It was veiled as a question but she intended it as more of a demand. The problem was that it was really cold outside. The jacket she had brought me wasn't going to cut it. I had not yet unpacked my winter outerwear. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the basement were boxes of stuff we hadn't gotten to yet, and my scarf\gloves\hat were in one of those boxes. I acquiesced to her request anyway, and bundled up the best i could, although it definitely wasn't sufficient. She had a brand new winter coat that had just arrived from Granny, so she was appropriately dressed and had nothing to worry about.
We went outside, and it was very unpleasant. Gray. Overcast. Cold. Not a soul was out there. Usually there are people out walking their dogs, and kids playing in their yards, but today the world was deserted. I said to her, "Don't you see how ridiculous this is? No one else is out here!"
She giggled and said with satisfaction, "Outside!"
Her facial expression seemed to say, "You were born in Georgia, so we all know that you are a pansy, but i was born in the Frozen Tundra, and this weather is nothing to me."
She took off running down the sidewalk. Usually she only goes to a certain point and then stops and turns around, but this time she ran all the way down the block. When we reached the intersection, she turned left and kept going. We were now in front of our backyard-neighbor's house. Does that make sense? The house whose backyard borders mine. Our backyard-neighbors have a beautiful garden. These people are real professionals. I've seen the house's inhabitants from a distance, but we hadn't met yet. It appeared to be an elderly lady and her grown daughter.
Well wouldn't you know, as we were running past their house, the elderly lady came out the front door! She was headed out for a walk too. We finally got the chance to meet each other. She was very friendly, and said that she enjoyed seeing the BabyGirl play outside. She said that we could come over anytime, and when the weather is nice the BabyGirl should come play in her yard.
The nice lady set out for her walk, and we turned around to run back towards our house. The BabyGirl and i continued to play outside for a while, until i was so cold that i couldn't take it anymore. I dragged her into the house kicking and screaming. Her cheeks were rudolf-red, her eyes were watering from the cold, and her nose was running, yet she still wanted to stay outside. She put up a fight as i took of her coat, and she put up a fight as i took of her shoes.
We had been inside for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. It was the Backyard Neighbor! She said, "I was wondering if you and your Little One would like to come over and pick some flowers." Of course we did! I told the BabyGirl that her wish had been granted, we are going back outside. We put our shoes and coats back on and jaunted across the backyard.
The Backyard Neighbor had already picked a handful of flowers to give to me, and indicated which area the BabyGirl was allowed to pick from. Most of them were sad little flowers, who, having already offered their glory to the world, were preparing to succumb to the colder temperatures. Then the Backyard Neighbor asked if i would like some mint. My heart stopped in my chest. Mint? Did she say mint?
"Oh yes, i have scads of it! I'll never get rid of it before winter." She handed me an armful.
You don't know this, but her mint was an enormous answer to prayer. Yes, something as simple as fresh mint was God's gift directly to my heart. I only hoped i could make it back home before i bawled my eyes out in wonder and amazement.
The part of the story that i haven't told you yet is that our finances have taken a turn for the dire. Moving from the Big City to the Kingdom of the Cornstalks was costly, and it used up the majority of our emergency fund. The first two months that we were here, The Professor only got half a paycheck. And we are still paying the utilities and assessments for our old condo.
Even now that The Professor is finally getting paid the full amount, we only have $300 per month for all household expenses. That's $300 for the whole month, that has to be used on everything from toilet paper to groceries to diapers. Earlier this month, both of our cars broke down, and i'll tell you that the bill was well more than $300. So suffice it to say that we're broke, and we can't afford most things.
The Professor came across this prayer about relinquishing worldly possessions from A.W. Toser, which has been very meaningful to us:
Father, i want to know Thee, but my coward heart fears to give up its toys. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and i do not try to hide from Thee the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but i do come. Please root from my heart all those things which i have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. Then shalt Thou make the place of Thy feet glorious. Then shall my heart have no need of the sun to shine in it, for Thyself wilt be the light of it, and there shall be no night there. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
(The Pursuit of God)
Slowly, and painfully, i am learning to surrender my "wants" to Him. When an item comes to mind that i absolutely don't have the money for, i have to surrender that item to Him. Halloween costumes? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Coffee? Give it to the Lord. Sunday dress shoes for the BabyGirl? Give it to the Lord.
And just that day, i had surrendered mint to the Lord. There was this recipe going around pinterest for a lemonade with fresh mint that i'd been just dying to make. But fresh herbs are expensive here, and it was too frivolous. We can't waste money on stuff like that, so i had to give it to the Lord, but He gave it back! He used the BabyGirl to get me outside so that i could meet my neighbor, who gave me her mint.
It was such a small gift in the grand scheme of things, but it brought me so much encouragement. It called to mind this verse:
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The BabyGirl refuses to let anything separate her from the outside, and our Father refuses to let anything separate us from His love.
We were playing outside, which is her #1 all-time favorite thing to do. We hadn't been out there very long when she went in the garage and started pulling at the stroller. Just the day before we'd had a playdate at a potential friend's house, and they had a little doll stroller that the BabyGirl LOVED. She pushed that doll stroller all over their house. So when she was yanking at the stroller, i thought she wanted to push it around. Granted, it is much more difficult for her to maneuver than a doll stroller, but she doesn't always think these kinds of things through.
I put the stroller out on the driveway for her to push around. She played with it for about 0.5 seconds and then started emphatically motioning toward the seat of the stroller. I said to her incredulously, "You want to get IN the stroller?"
The reason that i was incredulous is because we were currently playing outside. Usually, nothing trumps playing outside. I have never in her short little life seen her want to do anything else while she is playing outside. Playing outside is Optimus Prime, and nothing in the world matters while you are playing outside. Not mealtime, not naptime, not diaper changes, not thunderstorms, nothing. She will play outside regardless of the weather. I had a hard time believing that she wanted to get in the stroller.
Nonetheless, she ceased her whining when i posed her the question, so as a test i put her in the stroller, fully believing she would be very unhappy once she was in there.
She was not unhappy.
I thought to myself, "Great! I have a couple of things to do around the yard, and with you contained in the stroller i can actually do them." I pushed her over to a corner of the yard and started picking up some debris. She then began fussing and vehemently motioning to the back of the stroller. I said, "I knew it! You don't actually want to be in the stroller; you want to push it around."
I started unfastening the straps in order to take her out of the stroller; major protesting ensued. She was still pointing behind the stroller. I said (incredulously once again), "You want me to push you in the stroller?"
Finally, after this long game of charades, it dawned on me that she must want to go for a walk. I asked, "Walk??? You want to go for a walk?"
She exploded into happiness, smiled from ear to ear, and said, "Wok!"
I said, "Um, okay i guess. But i need to get my phone first." I ran inside to grab my phone and then we departed on our walk. About 2 minutes into it, i realized that i needed to go to the bathroom and if i'd been in charge, i also would have worn different shoes. The BabyGirl, however, had it made in the shade. She was relaxing in the comfort and convenience of the stroller, enjoying the blue sky and fresh air while leaving all the physical work to me. How sweet.
Yesterday she was at it again. It was late afternoon, and i was washing dishes. She put on her shoes, brought me her jacket, and said, "Outside!?!" It was veiled as a question but she intended it as more of a demand. The problem was that it was really cold outside. The jacket she had brought me wasn't going to cut it. I had not yet unpacked my winter outerwear. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the basement were boxes of stuff we hadn't gotten to yet, and my scarf\gloves\hat were in one of those boxes. I acquiesced to her request anyway, and bundled up the best i could, although it definitely wasn't sufficient. She had a brand new winter coat that had just arrived from Granny, so she was appropriately dressed and had nothing to worry about.
We went outside, and it was very unpleasant. Gray. Overcast. Cold. Not a soul was out there. Usually there are people out walking their dogs, and kids playing in their yards, but today the world was deserted. I said to her, "Don't you see how ridiculous this is? No one else is out here!"
She giggled and said with satisfaction, "Outside!"
Her facial expression seemed to say, "You were born in Georgia, so we all know that you are a pansy, but i was born in the Frozen Tundra, and this weather is nothing to me."
She took off running down the sidewalk. Usually she only goes to a certain point and then stops and turns around, but this time she ran all the way down the block. When we reached the intersection, she turned left and kept going. We were now in front of our backyard-neighbor's house. Does that make sense? The house whose backyard borders mine. Our backyard-neighbors have a beautiful garden. These people are real professionals. I've seen the house's inhabitants from a distance, but we hadn't met yet. It appeared to be an elderly lady and her grown daughter.
Well wouldn't you know, as we were running past their house, the elderly lady came out the front door! She was headed out for a walk too. We finally got the chance to meet each other. She was very friendly, and said that she enjoyed seeing the BabyGirl play outside. She said that we could come over anytime, and when the weather is nice the BabyGirl should come play in her yard.
The nice lady set out for her walk, and we turned around to run back towards our house. The BabyGirl and i continued to play outside for a while, until i was so cold that i couldn't take it anymore. I dragged her into the house kicking and screaming. Her cheeks were rudolf-red, her eyes were watering from the cold, and her nose was running, yet she still wanted to stay outside. She put up a fight as i took of her coat, and she put up a fight as i took of her shoes.
We had been inside for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. It was the Backyard Neighbor! She said, "I was wondering if you and your Little One would like to come over and pick some flowers." Of course we did! I told the BabyGirl that her wish had been granted, we are going back outside. We put our shoes and coats back on and jaunted across the backyard.
The Backyard Neighbor had already picked a handful of flowers to give to me, and indicated which area the BabyGirl was allowed to pick from. Most of them were sad little flowers, who, having already offered their glory to the world, were preparing to succumb to the colder temperatures. Then the Backyard Neighbor asked if i would like some mint. My heart stopped in my chest. Mint? Did she say mint?
"Oh yes, i have scads of it! I'll never get rid of it before winter." She handed me an armful.
You don't know this, but her mint was an enormous answer to prayer. Yes, something as simple as fresh mint was God's gift directly to my heart. I only hoped i could make it back home before i bawled my eyes out in wonder and amazement.
The part of the story that i haven't told you yet is that our finances have taken a turn for the dire. Moving from the Big City to the Kingdom of the Cornstalks was costly, and it used up the majority of our emergency fund. The first two months that we were here, The Professor only got half a paycheck. And we are still paying the utilities and assessments for our old condo.
Even now that The Professor is finally getting paid the full amount, we only have $300 per month for all household expenses. That's $300 for the whole month, that has to be used on everything from toilet paper to groceries to diapers. Earlier this month, both of our cars broke down, and i'll tell you that the bill was well more than $300. So suffice it to say that we're broke, and we can't afford most things.
The Professor came across this prayer about relinquishing worldly possessions from A.W. Toser, which has been very meaningful to us:
Father, i want to know Thee, but my coward heart fears to give up its toys. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and i do not try to hide from Thee the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but i do come. Please root from my heart all those things which i have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. Then shalt Thou make the place of Thy feet glorious. Then shall my heart have no need of the sun to shine in it, for Thyself wilt be the light of it, and there shall be no night there. In Jesus' Name, Amen.
(The Pursuit of God)
Slowly, and painfully, i am learning to surrender my "wants" to Him. When an item comes to mind that i absolutely don't have the money for, i have to surrender that item to Him. Halloween costumes? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters? Don't have the money for it; give it to the Lord. Coffee? Give it to the Lord. Sunday dress shoes for the BabyGirl? Give it to the Lord.
And just that day, i had surrendered mint to the Lord. There was this recipe going around pinterest for a lemonade with fresh mint that i'd been just dying to make. But fresh herbs are expensive here, and it was too frivolous. We can't waste money on stuff like that, so i had to give it to the Lord, but He gave it back! He used the BabyGirl to get me outside so that i could meet my neighbor, who gave me her mint.
It was such a small gift in the grand scheme of things, but it brought me so much encouragement. It called to mind this verse:
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39, NIV
The BabyGirl refuses to let anything separate her from the outside, and our Father refuses to let anything separate us from His love.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Doing Work That Matters
I had not been working in the ICU very long, so it was very generous of the other nurses to let me be assigned to the fresh trauma patient. We all fight over fresh traumas, and this was a good one. It was unusual in that the guy had a very extensive and serious injury, but was still conscious. Most of the bad-off trauma cases are so bad off that they are either in a coma, or are sedated because they require a ventilator.
Honestly, I don't remember the patient's name, so we'll call him Ryan. He was my age. Ryan was my only patient that night because he required such close monitoring, so we spent a lot of time together. He had made a lot of bad choices in life, and there is nothing like sitting in an ICU bed on the brink of death to make you reevaluate things.
He was understandably very shaken up by the experience of falling from a 4 story building and being impaled on a fence post (see, i told you it was a good trauma). He spent a lot of time talking about his life, his relationship with his father, various mistakes he'd made, and what he'd like to do differently if he survived this injury. Mostly he was just processing out loud, and i served as a listening ear while i did my work.
Ryan was a hairy dude. The kind of guy who starts to show a 5 o'clock shadow around lunchtime. He had facial hair that started under his eyes and went all the way down his neck. He was still wearing a C-collar because he had upper extremity parasthesia and was awaiting an MRI to evaluate his spine. He hadn't been able to shave in 3 days, because he was too busy having his life saved. His neck was very itchy under the collar and it was really bothering him. He asked me to give him a shave (he couldn't use his arms to do it himself), to which i said, "Hell no I'm not taking that collar off, because i don't want to be the girl who makes you a quadriplegic."
He kept pestering me about it, and i kept saying no because it was too risky. An itchy neck versus lifelong spinal cord injury is kind of a no-brainer from a risk-benefit analysis.
Eventually he wore me down, and i consented. We had a deal that he was absolutely not allowed to move a single muscle while that collar was off, and he would not blame me if he sustained any paralysis as a result of this shave. I assembled my supplies and we began. It was a very suspenseful shave. I pretty much had no idea what i was doing (since i don't shave my face very often), and my hospital-issue razor was very dull. I was terrified that he would sneeze and sever his spinal cord. When i finished shaving him and refastened his c-collar, i told him, "Well it's definitely not the best shave you've ever had, but i hope it fixes the itching."
He replied, "It is the best shave i've ever had. You know why? Because you did it for me without any thought of what i would do for you in return."
-----------------------------------
Fast-forward several years: I'm a Stay At Home Mom now. I haven't been a SAHM very long, so i haven't had the time to reorient my identity around being a full-time mom. A month ago, i was a professional. My identity was largely defined by doing a super-intense job. Saving lives. I believed that my work was noble, and worthy of respect. So it's confusing to leave such an exceedingly all-consuming field, and instead spend the whole day on the floor with mini-me.
I was REALLY good at what i did. I experienced some very exciting and adrenaline-filled situations. I did work that mattered. I think, in contrast, about other women my age who have a job, but it's not necessarily a career. It's not something that defines them, or something they are inspired by. When they quit their empty, boring job in order to stay home with their darling babies, do they look back? Do they wonder if they are doing the right thing, or are they 100% gung-ho about staying home?
This past year, i ACHED to be able to stay home. I wanted it more than anything. I cried many a brokenhearted tear over it. I am thoroughly grateful for my change in circumstances, i truly am. I love that BabyGirl with my whole heart, and it's a delight to see her smile everyday.
But here's the thing. I believe that i became a nurse because God called me to do so. He gave me the talents and skills. He provided for my education, through my parents' generosity. He gave me the strength to keep going when i was vomited on, pooped on, yelled at, bitten, kicked, sexually harassed, etc. He predestined me to be a nurse, He called me to be a nurse, He empowered me to be a nurse.
And now it's over.
That's what i'm confused about. Is He okay that i'm not using those talents anymore? I mean, He really invested in me, and now i'm done.
I think today i received my answer. I had just laid the BabyGirl down for her nap, and was walking back to the living room to pick up Every Single Toy We Own from the floor. Out of nowhere, i heard those words from Ryan, "You're doing it without any thought of what she will do for you in return."
The tasks may be different, but the purpose is the same. I'm still taking care of a person who can't give me anything back. I'm not using IV's or ventilators or cardiac monitors to do it, but i hope that God will equip me for this career just like He equipped me for that one.
Honestly, I don't remember the patient's name, so we'll call him Ryan. He was my age. Ryan was my only patient that night because he required such close monitoring, so we spent a lot of time together. He had made a lot of bad choices in life, and there is nothing like sitting in an ICU bed on the brink of death to make you reevaluate things.
He was understandably very shaken up by the experience of falling from a 4 story building and being impaled on a fence post (see, i told you it was a good trauma). He spent a lot of time talking about his life, his relationship with his father, various mistakes he'd made, and what he'd like to do differently if he survived this injury. Mostly he was just processing out loud, and i served as a listening ear while i did my work.
Ryan was a hairy dude. The kind of guy who starts to show a 5 o'clock shadow around lunchtime. He had facial hair that started under his eyes and went all the way down his neck. He was still wearing a C-collar because he had upper extremity parasthesia and was awaiting an MRI to evaluate his spine. He hadn't been able to shave in 3 days, because he was too busy having his life saved. His neck was very itchy under the collar and it was really bothering him. He asked me to give him a shave (he couldn't use his arms to do it himself), to which i said, "Hell no I'm not taking that collar off, because i don't want to be the girl who makes you a quadriplegic."
He kept pestering me about it, and i kept saying no because it was too risky. An itchy neck versus lifelong spinal cord injury is kind of a no-brainer from a risk-benefit analysis.
Eventually he wore me down, and i consented. We had a deal that he was absolutely not allowed to move a single muscle while that collar was off, and he would not blame me if he sustained any paralysis as a result of this shave. I assembled my supplies and we began. It was a very suspenseful shave. I pretty much had no idea what i was doing (since i don't shave my face very often), and my hospital-issue razor was very dull. I was terrified that he would sneeze and sever his spinal cord. When i finished shaving him and refastened his c-collar, i told him, "Well it's definitely not the best shave you've ever had, but i hope it fixes the itching."
He replied, "It is the best shave i've ever had. You know why? Because you did it for me without any thought of what i would do for you in return."
-----------------------------------
Fast-forward several years: I'm a Stay At Home Mom now. I haven't been a SAHM very long, so i haven't had the time to reorient my identity around being a full-time mom. A month ago, i was a professional. My identity was largely defined by doing a super-intense job. Saving lives. I believed that my work was noble, and worthy of respect. So it's confusing to leave such an exceedingly all-consuming field, and instead spend the whole day on the floor with mini-me.
I was REALLY good at what i did. I experienced some very exciting and adrenaline-filled situations. I did work that mattered. I think, in contrast, about other women my age who have a job, but it's not necessarily a career. It's not something that defines them, or something they are inspired by. When they quit their empty, boring job in order to stay home with their darling babies, do they look back? Do they wonder if they are doing the right thing, or are they 100% gung-ho about staying home?
This past year, i ACHED to be able to stay home. I wanted it more than anything. I cried many a brokenhearted tear over it. I am thoroughly grateful for my change in circumstances, i truly am. I love that BabyGirl with my whole heart, and it's a delight to see her smile everyday.
But here's the thing. I believe that i became a nurse because God called me to do so. He gave me the talents and skills. He provided for my education, through my parents' generosity. He gave me the strength to keep going when i was vomited on, pooped on, yelled at, bitten, kicked, sexually harassed, etc. He predestined me to be a nurse, He called me to be a nurse, He empowered me to be a nurse.
And now it's over.
That's what i'm confused about. Is He okay that i'm not using those talents anymore? I mean, He really invested in me, and now i'm done.
I think today i received my answer. I had just laid the BabyGirl down for her nap, and was walking back to the living room to pick up Every Single Toy We Own from the floor. Out of nowhere, i heard those words from Ryan, "You're doing it without any thought of what she will do for you in return."
The tasks may be different, but the purpose is the same. I'm still taking care of a person who can't give me anything back. I'm not using IV's or ventilators or cardiac monitors to do it, but i hope that God will equip me for this career just like He equipped me for that one.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Mother's Day is Coming
It is Episode 12 of season 22 of Survivor.
The castaways have been living in the jungle for 30 days.
Mike, a former Marine who served in Iraq, has been voted out of the tribe and is now living on Redemption Island, where he takes place in challenges in order to remain in the game. On this particular challenge, the competitors are told that the winner will receive time with a family member.
Mike wins the challenge and they bring out his mother, Jane. But before he is allowed to hug her, Jeff Probst gives him a choice to make. Mike can either 1) spend the afternoon with his mom, 2) forgo time with his mom, and instead allow his 2 fellow Redemption Island buddies to spend time with their loved ones, or 3) forgo time with his mom and give time with loved ones to the 6 people still in the game (who incidentally voted him out).
Here is the scene -
-------------------------------------------------
Jeff Probst: Very big, potentially million-dollar decision. Take me through the thought process.
Mike: The decision is almost clear in my head. Yesterday i was reading, it was either Matther or Mark, and Jesus was asked, of all the commandments, what are the greatest. He responded, "Love your brother like you would love yourself." So i think, if i give the most good to the most people, and make friends from enemies, i think that's the only play here.
Jeff Probst: Let me make sure i'm clear on what you're doing. You're giving up your love for your mom, and you are giving it to the 6 people who single-handedly decimated your tribe.
Mike: Yes.
Jeff Probst: I gotta tell you, i thought the odds of that happening were less than zero. Jane[Mike's Mom], does this decision surprise you?
Mike's Mom: [with tears] No. This is who my son is. He is a hero. Honey, I'm so very proud of you.
-------------------------------------------------
I bawled my eyes out.
What an amazing man. What an amazing mother.
The castaways have been living in the jungle for 30 days.
Mike, a former Marine who served in Iraq, has been voted out of the tribe and is now living on Redemption Island, where he takes place in challenges in order to remain in the game. On this particular challenge, the competitors are told that the winner will receive time with a family member.
Mike wins the challenge and they bring out his mother, Jane. But before he is allowed to hug her, Jeff Probst gives him a choice to make. Mike can either 1) spend the afternoon with his mom, 2) forgo time with his mom, and instead allow his 2 fellow Redemption Island buddies to spend time with their loved ones, or 3) forgo time with his mom and give time with loved ones to the 6 people still in the game (who incidentally voted him out).
Here is the scene -
-------------------------------------------------
Jeff Probst: Very big, potentially million-dollar decision. Take me through the thought process.
Mike: The decision is almost clear in my head. Yesterday i was reading, it was either Matther or Mark, and Jesus was asked, of all the commandments, what are the greatest. He responded, "Love your brother like you would love yourself." So i think, if i give the most good to the most people, and make friends from enemies, i think that's the only play here.
Jeff Probst: Let me make sure i'm clear on what you're doing. You're giving up your love for your mom, and you are giving it to the 6 people who single-handedly decimated your tribe.
Mike: Yes.
Jeff Probst: I gotta tell you, i thought the odds of that happening were less than zero. Jane[Mike's Mom], does this decision surprise you?
Mike's Mom: [with tears] No. This is who my son is. He is a hero. Honey, I'm so very proud of you.
-------------------------------------------------
I bawled my eyes out.
What an amazing man. What an amazing mother.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The Greatest and the Least
This is a story about two of the men i work with, Rob and John (names changed to protect the innocent).
Rob is the boss, but unfortunately not a good one. He is at the top of the totem pole of our department. John is a Patient Care Tech, or PTC. He is at the bottom of the totem pole.
Rob's demeanor gives us the impression that he couldn't care less about this job. He's not invested; it doesn't mean much to him. John is one of the hardest working people you will ever meet. His job might not seem illustrious or significant, but he does it with all his might. John has the attitude that if you are going to do something, you should do it well. John really is the backbone of our department.
There have been a few situations recently that have illustrated the difference in character of these two men. One example is Blizzard Day. I'm still mad at how my boss handled Blizzard Day. He showed no leadership, no planning, no thinking. He was just winging it. Blizzard Day was total chaos. There was not a clear method of communication with the staff or with our customers. It turned out that only about 7 out of 20+ people came to work that day. It was crazy busy, we had no idea what was going on, and each of us was doing the work of 4 people. As you might imagine, we didn't have time for a lunch break. One of the doctors ordered pizza, and it was made VERY CLEAR that the pizza was ONLY for doctors. The rest of us were strictly forbidden to eat any. My boss Rob happened to be sitting at the desk when my loudmouth co-worker Marlene walked up and said, "How come nobody told me we had pizza?!? Here i am starving with no lunchbreak and you guys have pizza!!!" To which we said, "Oh no honey, we aren't eating any pizza. It's only for doctors." She said to Rob, "Well where's our pizza?!?"
Rob said, and i only wish you could hear the tone of his voice (it was the tone of someone who is lying in order to look good), "Oh i tried, i really tried to order pizza for you guys, but no one is delivering today because of the snow."
We all knew that someone was delivering because there were three pizzas in the conference room at that very minute.
Rob just flat out didn't care.
John, on the other hand, after witnessing these events, snuck off to the cafeteria and bought more than a dozen cookies. With his own money. He brought them back, set them on the desk, and said, "I know you guys are really hungry so i got you some cookies. It's not a lot but hopefully it will tide you over for a little while."
It still brings tears to my eyes because it was so thoughtful. Here we have the man who is the least showing more concern than the man who is the greatest. The man who is the least was going above and beyond in order to help out his team. The man who is the least noticed a problem, and did his part to fix it.
Since that day, Rob has continued to be incompetent and making excuses for it. He FINALLY ordered the combo printer\copy machine we've needed forever, but he didn't arrange for anyone to install it. The delivery man took away the old printer (that didn't copy) and put the new printer-copier in its place, but no one from the Computer Nerd department set up the printer with the 3 computers. So we went from having a printer that didn't copy to having a copier that didn't print. Every day for 2 weeks, Rob assured everyone, "Don't worry! I talked to IT and they're sending someone."
Meanwhile, John continues to serve those around him. We have free coffee at my job, but it isn't good coffee. Personally, i ain't too proud for free coffee, but many of my coworkers are coffee snobs and refuse to drink it. They were spending a great deal of money on the Starbucks in the lobby. Someone found a really cool coffee-making contraption. I can't really describe it to you. It's sort of like a french press, but it isn't. I don't actually know what its official name is. The important features are that it doesn't use electricity, but it's easier to clean up than a french press. It doesn't take up much space. Anyway, Debbie is the ring-leader of the new coffee club. She brought the contraption and left it in the pantry for anyone to use. People take turns bringing in their favorite coffee. Once the coffee club got going, people started bringing in fancy creamers. Now a few people have their own mug, rather than the styrofoam cups. It has really blossomed into quite the sophisticated operation. The drawback though, is that it now takes up a lot of space. The benefit of the contraption was that you could store it easily. But now we have to store the contraption, several mugs, different brands of coffee, and containers of creamer. Well John is in charge of the pantry. He orders the supplies and keeps it maintained. He cleared off a shelf for all the coffee supplies, and sweet-talked the secretary into letting him borrow the label maker. He made an "Olson Cafe" label for the shelf and put all the paraphernalia there. Then he christened the new shelf by bringing his 80 year old mother's homemade pound cake, which is amazingly delicious with coffee.
I recognize that having a shelf labeled "Olson Cafe" doesn't sound like much to you. But if you could spend a day in my work environment you would see that it is a very big deal to us. In this job we have no voice. Our customers take advantage of us all the time. They yell at us, they make sexually inappropriate comments, they cross the line. Our boss and the people above him make strict rules without our input. They dictate how we do our jobs, when they don't actually know what our jobs are. So the Olson Cafe is the only thing that is our own. The Olson Cafe is how we take care of each other. It's how we share our generosity. Of the entire 6th floor, that one shelf in the pantry is the only place where we make the rules.
In the Olson kingdom, Rob is the greatest. But in the Olson Cafe, John is the king.
Rob is the boss, but unfortunately not a good one. He is at the top of the totem pole of our department. John is a Patient Care Tech, or PTC. He is at the bottom of the totem pole.
Rob's demeanor gives us the impression that he couldn't care less about this job. He's not invested; it doesn't mean much to him. John is one of the hardest working people you will ever meet. His job might not seem illustrious or significant, but he does it with all his might. John has the attitude that if you are going to do something, you should do it well. John really is the backbone of our department.
There have been a few situations recently that have illustrated the difference in character of these two men. One example is Blizzard Day. I'm still mad at how my boss handled Blizzard Day. He showed no leadership, no planning, no thinking. He was just winging it. Blizzard Day was total chaos. There was not a clear method of communication with the staff or with our customers. It turned out that only about 7 out of 20+ people came to work that day. It was crazy busy, we had no idea what was going on, and each of us was doing the work of 4 people. As you might imagine, we didn't have time for a lunch break. One of the doctors ordered pizza, and it was made VERY CLEAR that the pizza was ONLY for doctors. The rest of us were strictly forbidden to eat any. My boss Rob happened to be sitting at the desk when my loudmouth co-worker Marlene walked up and said, "How come nobody told me we had pizza?!? Here i am starving with no lunchbreak and you guys have pizza!!!" To which we said, "Oh no honey, we aren't eating any pizza. It's only for doctors." She said to Rob, "Well where's our pizza?!?"
Rob said, and i only wish you could hear the tone of his voice (it was the tone of someone who is lying in order to look good), "Oh i tried, i really tried to order pizza for you guys, but no one is delivering today because of the snow."
We all knew that someone was delivering because there were three pizzas in the conference room at that very minute.
Rob just flat out didn't care.
John, on the other hand, after witnessing these events, snuck off to the cafeteria and bought more than a dozen cookies. With his own money. He brought them back, set them on the desk, and said, "I know you guys are really hungry so i got you some cookies. It's not a lot but hopefully it will tide you over for a little while."
It still brings tears to my eyes because it was so thoughtful. Here we have the man who is the least showing more concern than the man who is the greatest. The man who is the least was going above and beyond in order to help out his team. The man who is the least noticed a problem, and did his part to fix it.
Since that day, Rob has continued to be incompetent and making excuses for it. He FINALLY ordered the combo printer\copy machine we've needed forever, but he didn't arrange for anyone to install it. The delivery man took away the old printer (that didn't copy) and put the new printer-copier in its place, but no one from the Computer Nerd department set up the printer with the 3 computers. So we went from having a printer that didn't copy to having a copier that didn't print. Every day for 2 weeks, Rob assured everyone, "Don't worry! I talked to IT and they're sending someone."
Meanwhile, John continues to serve those around him. We have free coffee at my job, but it isn't good coffee. Personally, i ain't too proud for free coffee, but many of my coworkers are coffee snobs and refuse to drink it. They were spending a great deal of money on the Starbucks in the lobby. Someone found a really cool coffee-making contraption. I can't really describe it to you. It's sort of like a french press, but it isn't. I don't actually know what its official name is. The important features are that it doesn't use electricity, but it's easier to clean up than a french press. It doesn't take up much space. Anyway, Debbie is the ring-leader of the new coffee club. She brought the contraption and left it in the pantry for anyone to use. People take turns bringing in their favorite coffee. Once the coffee club got going, people started bringing in fancy creamers. Now a few people have their own mug, rather than the styrofoam cups. It has really blossomed into quite the sophisticated operation. The drawback though, is that it now takes up a lot of space. The benefit of the contraption was that you could store it easily. But now we have to store the contraption, several mugs, different brands of coffee, and containers of creamer. Well John is in charge of the pantry. He orders the supplies and keeps it maintained. He cleared off a shelf for all the coffee supplies, and sweet-talked the secretary into letting him borrow the label maker. He made an "Olson Cafe" label for the shelf and put all the paraphernalia there. Then he christened the new shelf by bringing his 80 year old mother's homemade pound cake, which is amazingly delicious with coffee.
I recognize that having a shelf labeled "Olson Cafe" doesn't sound like much to you. But if you could spend a day in my work environment you would see that it is a very big deal to us. In this job we have no voice. Our customers take advantage of us all the time. They yell at us, they make sexually inappropriate comments, they cross the line. Our boss and the people above him make strict rules without our input. They dictate how we do our jobs, when they don't actually know what our jobs are. So the Olson Cafe is the only thing that is our own. The Olson Cafe is how we take care of each other. It's how we share our generosity. Of the entire 6th floor, that one shelf in the pantry is the only place where we make the rules.
In the Olson kingdom, Rob is the greatest. But in the Olson Cafe, John is the king.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Making a Difference: The Bravest Woman in Mexico
My sister told me about Marisol Valles Garcia, a 20 year old girl who has been named "The Bravest Woman in Mexico." I'm going to give you a link to a news article about her, but here's the nutshell. In a small Mexican town on the Texas border, gangs and drug lords have taken over. There is rampant violence. The drug groups are known for killing mayors, police officers, anyone who stands in their way. They killed the chief of police and left his head outside the police station.
For further reading, here is the news article:
http://abcnews.go.com/International/mexico-police-chief-murdered/story?id=12294819.
After his death, the position was vacant for a long time (understandably so). Until this woman stepped up.
She is 20 years old, mother of one child, is in school for criminology. Not exactly who you would expect to lead the fight against serious bad guys. Her reason for taking the job? "I'm doing this for my people," she said, "I'm tired of all the drug violence." This woman is my hero. It's a situation that looks hopeless. That looks like evil will win. Not a single man in the whole town had the cajones to step up and fight. And now Marisol, barely old enough to vote, is taking a stand.
All that stuff i said a few posts ago about making sacrifices for my BabyGirl? Now i'm embarrassed by it. That i could consider my job to be a "sacrifice", and here is this woman who goes to work every day knowing she might get killed. The fact that she also has a baby makes it so much more meaningful for me. On the one hand, she has the courage and determination to make the world a better place for her child. But on the other hand, the process of making the world a better place might just turn her child into an orphan.
I pray frequently for Marisol. I pray that God would keep her safe, and bless her efforts. I pray that He would protect her baby. I pray that He would stop all the drug activity in her town. I pray that He will use Marisol to make a difference.
There's a scene in the movie "Lord of the Rings: Return of the King" that comes to my mind. During the final battle, the big super-scary King of the Ring-Wraiths is kicking butt. He's huge, and he has a big ole mace that takes out multiple people in one swing. He's sort of like a ghost, so it's difficult to kill him because he's not really alive to begin with. Anyway, Eowyn is disguised as a man, and finds herself in a one-on-one fight with the Nazgul King. He says to her mockingly, "No man can kill me." She dramatically rips of her helmet, shakes out her long blond hair, and replies, "I am no man."
I can imagine those rough, tough, hateful thugs in Mexico laughing when they heard about little Marisol becoming police chief. And i can imagine what Marisol's family probably said when she told them she'd decided to take the job. Her abuela probably said, "But Marisol, no man in Mexico wants that position." And then Marisol could say, "I am no man."
It gives me goosebumps.
I have spent a lot of time thinking about Marisol's situation. For some reason it has affected me profoundly. You will likely see several more posts about this, because i have more to say than i can fit in one day. It brought back a memory of something i experienced in Mexico many years ago. I was in high school, on a church mission trip to a few little towns in Mexico. Our church sponsored two orphanages, so we went to help out and encourage the children there. There was a married couple who ran the orphanage, and they had a daughter named Carolina who was about 18 years old. She also worked at the orphanage. She told a story about a time when she felt very helpless. She saw the poverty and crime and illness in her village and cried out to God, "Senor, donde esta Su mano? [Lord, where is Your hand?]" She heard Him say to her, "Carolina, tu eres mis manos [you are my hands]."
That has really stuck with me. My life is a breeze compared to Carolina and Marisol, but we all go through times when things are bad and we say, God where are you? When will you intervene? Do you see what's going on here? Do you care?
The answer is that He does see; He does care. He will intervene, but He needs to use our hands to do it. He uses our hands to hug an orphan. He uses our hands to care for the sick. He uses our hands to feed the hungry. He uses our hands to fight injustice.
Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise.
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise.
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
For further reading, here is the news article:
http://abcnews.go.com/International/mexico-police-chief-murdered/story?id=12294819.
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