Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?

Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?   Job 2:10

Ten days ago I was an unusually healthy and active 69 year old.  I did pretty much everything I wanted to do.  I cleaned my own home (including the vacuuming and knocking down ceiling cobwebs), went ice-skating, gave rides to family members (including the need to load the wheelchair in the car for one of my daughters), baked dozens of cookies and cupcakes, grocery shopped carrying in my own grocery bags if my husband wasn’t handy to do it, and I certainly bathed and dressed myself.

Then in a split second, my active life was derailed.  

My 23 year old granddaughter was out of town for Christmas, so when she returned I asked her if she would like to go out for lunch with me.  In the car while heading in the direction of several restaurants, we discussed options.  She wanted Chinese.  We settled in a booth and ordered our beverages.  Then I said, “Are you ready to go up to the buffet?”  She nodded and started down the aisle only 3 to 5 feet ahead of me.  As we passed the last booth in the aisle, the cane of the woman sitting there, somehow fell behind my granddaughter, but in front of me.  My granddaughter thinks the woman’s husband knocked it over as he slid back into the booth.

I never saw the cane.  By the time I heard a “clunk” of something hitting the floor, I was already on my way down.  It happened so quickly that I didn’t even have time to put out my hands to try and catch myself.  I hit my knees on the floor but then pitched down unbelievably hard on my right shoulder.  I was flat on my face on the floor of the Chinese restaurant and suddenly surrounded by people claiming to be nurses and worried restaurant staff wanting to call an ambulance.

I insisted that they not call an ambulance and give me a chance to assess myself.  I answered all the “nursie” questions.  No, I had not hit my head.  I was not having any chest pain.  I had no numbness in my hand.  The distended vessels in my hand are normal…..I have had “old lady” hands for decades.

After a bit, I was able to roll myself over and get into a sitting position, and then eventually to lift myself into a nearby empty booth.  I sat there for a few minutes.   I told my granddaughter (who was crying in distress) to go get her food.  I returned to our booth and drank some hot tea.  I was in pain and had no appetite.  As logic kicked in, I realized I could not drive, and that I did not have complete range of motion.  I called my husband and said I would need a ride to the ER.

After x-rays determined, I had no broken bones, I was sent home with my arm in a sling and instructions to ice it for the first 2 days, take Tylenol, and see an orthopedic doctor if things didn’t improve.  For the first two days, I was in too much pain to try to move it very much.  The third day, the pain was less and I had some side to side movement.  My elation over this was short-lived when I realized that I could not lift my arm upward at all.  My brain sent the message, and my arm trembled trying to respond, but my arm was like that of a puppet with the string cut.

So, the ortho doctor says he believes I have a “massive rotator cuff tear.”  I will need surgery, but first I must have an MRI.  I am waiting for insurance approval of this.  The wheels are turning slowly, and I am beginning to be horrified at the long-term impact of this on my life.

Of course, some what-ifs have occurred to me.  What if we had gone out to lunch on a different day?  What if we had decided to go to a different restaurant?  What if we had gone to the buffet 2 seconds earlier or later?  Why did I have an appointment with that cane?  If someone had been trying to trip me, they could have tried 50 times and not done it with such effective precision.

But…I believe that for those of us who love God and desire for Him to guide our lives, He works in the smallest of details to put us where we need to be when we need to be there.

I am not happy that I am currently so helpless and dependent on my husband.  I bathe and dress myself with difficulty and need his help with some of it.  I am trying to plan meals that can be prepared one-handed or require just a bit of help.  I am key-boarding this with my arm in the sling suspended over the keyboard so that I can reach with finger and wrist movement.  Yesterday I discovered I can play the piano in the same way, as long as I stick to the basics and don’t get carried away with my right hand.  I can’t imagine how I will go months without driving.  This may completely destroy our plans to meet our son and his family in Colorado next month.  Annually, they come from California and we come from New York, and we share a condo in the mountains for a week.  My husband skis and my son and daughter-in-law snowboard.  I do neither, but enjoy the quiet time and the joy of being with family.  The real draw this year is the sweet baby girl that joined their family 6 months ago.  I was looking forward to watching her so they could enjoy their activities.  Sigh!

But…

…man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward.  Job 5:7

and

Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?   Job 2:10

Interesting guy, that Job,

and

an unfathomable God.

Where is He?

Where is He who is born King of the Jews?

We have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is written by the prophets.

Where have you been for the past three days, my son?

We have been searching for you anxiously.

In the temple, about my heavenly Father’s business.

Where is the carpenter, the son of Joseph?

He is creating some furniture for my home.

In the workshop building, repairing…..waiting.

Where is the teacher about whom we have heard?

We have come to see a miracle and hear his words.

In the boat, commanding the wind, quieting the storm.

Where is the Messiah? Where is the King of the Jews?

If he is such, let him save himself and us….but He is

In the throes of death, suffering on a cross.

Where is my Lord?  Where have you laid him?

He is no longer in the tomb, and I must find him.

He is risen and goes before you.

Where is He who will liberate His creation?

Do we not all groan in bondage to decay and death?

He will come from the heavens with a shout!

He is building, repairing, waiting, commanding.

Suffering with us, He is about His Father’s business.

He goes before you and will come as the prophets have written.

When?  Will it be today?  This year?

It is not for us to know the times or dates,

The Father has set by his own authority.

Where?

When?

We wait.

Scriptures used:  Matthew 2:2-5, Luke 2:43-49, Mark 6:2-3, Matthew 8:23-27, 27:42, Mark 16:4-7, Romans 8:21-22, I Thessalonians 4:16, Acts 1:7

On a Quiet December Morning

In the quiet, still and windless dawn,

Snow hangs on trees undisturbed.

Dark branches silhouette against the gray

Of morning sky.

On the sidewalk snow, imprints reveal

Nighttime activity of small creatures,

Little feet with a purpose unknown to me

Have passed by.

Outside my bubble of quiet calm.

Lies a world of turmoil, in need of peace,

But with jubilant angel declaration, He came!

Is that not why?

And so my feet must move with purpose,

I must leave an imprint in the cold world,

Come with me to see the babe in the manger

And lullaby,

Glorify,

Magnify

Crucify! 

Crucify?

Ah, yes…the plan from the beginning of time.

Atonement requires a spotless lamb.

The Son of God grows up.  He lives

In order to die.

To the still and darkness of my heart

Comes a flash of blinding light…insight.

I see my need, your gift!  Oh, Savior…

Do not pass me by!

A Blog Worth Repeating at Christmastime

Every year at Christmastime, I reminisce about my first Christmas away from my family. I was 18 years old and in my second year of Nursing School. In those "olden days," nursing programs were based in hospitals, rather than colleges. The education was inexpensive, because the student nurse was basically the hospital's slave. We got four weeks of vacation a year, and it was not our choice when we took it. So it was that in 1963, I was hundreds of miles away from my family trying to discover Christmas on my own.

I attended a church in Oak Park regularly and sang in the church choir. Just before Christmas there was to be a Sunday evening concert by the choir. Although I often sang solos, duets and other special parts, the only one I had been scheduled to sing that night was with two other girls on the same part in one of the choir numbers. During the hour before the concert, the college and career group was meeting, and that's where I was when someone called me out of the meeting with, "Larry wants to see you."

Larry was the church pianist, and I couldn't imagine what he wanted with me. I soon learned that the program was to include a special arrangement by Larry of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear." It was to be a duet, but the alto was ill with laryngitis. Larry wanted me to sing the part, because he really wanted his arrangement to be included in the program.

I am not sure how clearly I expressed verbally what I was thinking, but it went something like, "You're crazy! I am a soprano. I have never sung alto in my entire life. The concert is about 40 minutes from beginning. How could I possibly learn the part that quickly? Plus which, it isn't just for the hundreds of people attending....it's going to be recorded. If I mess up, there will be lasting evidence!"

Larry calmly informed me that the alto had the melody in some of the piece, and he could teach me the rest. He was so confident that I could do this, that I gave in. I had some misgivings about my sanity, but I gave in.

In the next 15 to 20 minutes, he analyzed the part for me. He told me that when I had to pick out the harmony, he would emphasize my note in the chord just before my entrance. He described some of the intervals as being similar to those in other songs he knew I was familiar with. We went through it about 3 times.

And I did it.  Now listening to the recording, there is one note that makes me uncomfortable. Not because it is a clunker, but because I attacked it too vigorously.

When Christmas Day came, a group of us decided to go caroling in the halls of the hospital before work at 7 AM. One of the girls in the group knew which room was occupied by a reputed Mafia boss whose bodyguards never left his side. We decided we would sing right outside his door. When we finished, a voice boomed out of the room with a stereotypical, "Tanks, goils." We hastened into the stairwell before bursting into giggles, which I expect he heard.

I had been working with the same patients for several days, so I took Christmas cards for them with me to work that morning, only to discover I had been reassigned to the other end of the floor. Being short-staffed had caused some realignment. I was disappointed when I realized that I had been assigned to two patients who had had strokes and were comatose. I had wanted to interact and spread some Christmas cheer.

When I entered the room of these two totally unresponsive ladies, I was startled to see that a beautiful orchid had been pinned to the pillow of one of the women. Her son had come in early that morning and placed it there as a token of his love for her. For me, it was a reminder that these ladies were not just blobs of humanity, but mothers who were loved. My whole attitude was abruptly altered.

As I bathed them, changed their positions, put clean sheets on the bed and gave other care that Christmas Day, I sang carols to them. I had no idea if they could hear the songs, but if a son cared enough to leave an orchid, I needed to care enough to make an attempt at helping them know that it was Christmas....a day for joy in the midst of pain.

Now every year, I listen to that old recording of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear." Over the years, the record became scratchy, and I put the song on a tape. Eventually I put it on a CD. I listen somewhat in awe of how well I actually did, but mostly because listening calls me back to that era of my life. It makes me remember my 18 year old self having the courage to perform a piece I didn't know well, laughing over "Tanks, goils," and having an orchid on a pillow adjust my attitude.

Being with family for Christmas is wonderful, but the real meaning is in experiencing the love, peace, joy and salvation that the Baby in the Manger entered our world to bring.

I knew that in my head before I was 18, but that year, it filled my heart.

Wake Up!

It seems to me that the majority of teens and young adults have no ability to think about anything substantive.  Well, maybe this isn’t just a young person’s problem.  Maybe it is true of people in general.

Their heads seem to be full of the occurrences in the “lives” of people who aren’t REAL people….i.e. characters they see on TV or in the movies.  They bounce to the beat of music with incomprehensible lyrics.  They travel “in the zone” while playing video games. They blather on endlessly in totally empty-headed conversation.  Meanwhile, actual LIFE passes them by.

Does anyone ever think any more about who they are and why they are here?  I mean, beyond the notion that one must do something to obtain money in order to obtain material possessions and maintain a cell phone with unlimited calls, text and data.  Notice I have not stipulated whether this money is earned or derived from a government program.  Also, whether or not material possessions are obtained honestly or dishonestly is not even a consideration.  The line between right and wrong has become so blurred that the possibility that a line exists is shrugged off.

To be fair, I do know a few people who consider their motives and the implications of their actions, but I also know a bunch who don’t…..who seem incapable of this level of thought.  How can a person like myself even talk to such people?  Where does one begin?  It is as though their heads are so full of white noise that they can hear nothing.  Or perhaps, instead of the emptiness that white noise implies, they are so full of the disorganized clutter of unrelated debris, that there is no chance of bringing order into the chaos.  No logical thought can precipitate out of the mess.

I would dearly love to confront certain people with some truths.

*There is a God who is creator and sustainer of the universe.

*He loves you enough that He sent His Son to die in your place as a payment for your sins. 

*He has a plan for your life.

*If you even begin to comprehend this and look to Him for guidance, your life will have meaning and you will understand what it means to experience joy.

*It seems so obvious to me….why don’t you get it?  Stop believing all those lies the world is telling you.  This really works! 

But, they continue in their mental and spiritual fog.  When they are upset, they look to me for help in the form of money or other marvelous solutions to their dilemmas.  But…they don’t want the REAL ANSWER, which is admitting they don’t have the answers, and God does. 

Wake up!  Swallow some pride, and throw yourself at God’s feet.  Let Him lift you up.  You are here for a reason.

Little Brown Mouse

Little brown mouse, little brown mouse,

Running through the house, running through the house,

The ladies all shrieked and ran away,

The children all laughed and wanted to play,

And so there was chaos Thanksgiving Day

With the little brown mouse.

Little brown mouse, little brown mouse,

Running through the house, running through the house,

At bedtime Grandpa set a trap,

At midnight Grandma heard it go snap,

And so began the unending nap

Of the little brown mouse.

By the Time I Get to Phoenix....

I am not supposed to be in Phoenix.  I am supposed to be home.

But….

When my husband I and returned from 18 days in Europe on Monday evening, we learned that areas east of the Great Lakes were getting hammered with lake effect snow.  We had planned to stay in a hotel in Philadelphia Monday night, and on Tuesday, Bill was to fly to Phoenix for a trade show, and I was to return home. When I checked my flight status, I learned it was cancelled.  The weather forecast didn’t offer much encouragement that flights would be going in my direction any time soon.

Decisions…decisions….stay by myself in a Philadelphia hotel waiting for the weather to break at home or try to get on a flight to Phoenix?  No brainer….but there is where the complications began.

When we approached USAir about getting me on the same flight to Phoenix with my husband, the agent was downright snotty….no way, it could not be done.  My husband expressed exasperation, “What do you mean you can’t do it?  If there are seats available, of course, you can do it!”  Then we figured out that she was assuming we were trying to get a free ticket to Phoenix, which was not our intent.  Once we assured her that we intended to pay for the ticket, she quickly determined there were seats available on all of his flights and was even accommodating about trying to find a way to reduce the cost.  In the end, it didn’t cost much more than it would have cost for me to be in the hotel room for three days.

It was a bit of a jolt to deal with USAir personnel after traveling on British Airways.  When compared to British Air, the USAir folks are downright surly.

In any event…off to Phoenix I went, thinking about the next issue.  We had packed for my husband figuring on the extra days in Phoenix after the European trip, but of course, I hadn’t planned on that, so I had a suitcase full of dirty clothes, and not much left to wear.  I figured that when we arrived at the hotel, I would send a few items of clothing to the laundry service.

By the time we got to Phoenix, we were exhausted…..we had crossed eight time zones since leaving Europe.  We were hungry.   We desperately wanted a bit of food and a bed.  My husband had been told there was no reason to rent a car, as there would be a shuttle to the hotel downtown near the convention center.  Uh…whoops..wrong….no shuttle!  So, we got a taxi.

We arrived at the downtown Sheraton, thinking we had reached our journey’s end.  But wait…..the hotel had overbooked and needed to send us elsewhere for just one night.   They were unclear about the location of the Arizona Grand, and we assumed it was close by, since Bill needed to be at the convention center at 10 the next morning.  The desk clerk said that the bellhops would take care of our luggage, and she was going to “walk us over there.”  But, what she meant was that she was walking us to a waiting car.  We got in the car, still assuming we were only going a couple of blocks.  Pretty soon we were on the freeway heading south….and south…and further south.  We went past the airport at which we had just recently arrived.  I wondered aloud if we were heading to Mexico. My normally calm husband was becoming agitated…..how was he supposed to get back to the convention center?  The Sheraton had given him a voucher for his ride back, but he was worried about what would happen to me.  They were supposed to have a room available the next day, but what time would it be available?  Was I going to be stranded in the lobby for hours waiting for a room?

The Arizona Grand is a gorgeous place, but it was hard to appreciate it given that on check-in, we were still tired and hungry, and I didn’t have clean clothes. I couldn’t send anything to their laundry service, because I wasn’t going to be there the next day to receive it back. 

The Arizona Grand is so spread out that you can’t get anywhere without calling for a golf cart to take you.  Fortunately, the young men who tool around on these golf carts are very considerate and accommodating….and yes, they said, there is a laundry facility available for me.  We came up with the plan that I would sort out what I needed to wash.  The golf cart would take me to the laundry.  Bill would go on the golf cart transport to one of the restaurants on the premises and get take-out to bring back to the laundry.

This may not seem like a big deal, but remember, we are totally exhausted at this point.  We arrive at the “laundry” and discover it is just a washer and dryer in a hallway….no detergent dispenser, no change machine at which to get the necessary quarters, no table or chairs to sit down while we eat.  The nice young guy driving the golf cart was determined to solve these issues for us.  He made a phone call and found that the front desk could sell us some detergent and of course, make change for us.   So, off we go to the front desk and back.  After making sure I was settled in the laundry, he took Bill to one of the restaurants for food, and then ushered us to a lounge area near the laundry where we could eat.

Much relieved, we ate hamburgers large enough to feed a family of four in a third world country and waited for the washing and drying process to be completed.  When it was done, we called the golf cart guy and he returned us to our “villa.”

We had a restful night’s sleep.  In the morning, Bill called the Sheraton to see when a room would be available.  He made it clear that he was unhappy about the notion of leaving his wife stranded with nowhere to go while he went off to the convention center.  I assured him that I would be fine.  I was sure the hotel would put our suitcases someplace safe, and I was sure I could entertain myself somehow…..shopping, perhaps?

We called the bellhop to arrange our transportation back to the Sheraton.  He said that he actually had a car sitting there waiting.  They loaded us into the car, but before we were out the driveway, we discovered the driver had no knowledge of our transportation voucher, so back to the Arizona Grand we went.  We had to wait about 20 minutes, while the bellhop got in touch with the correct transportation company.  Meanwhile one of those nice young golf cart guys got each of us a cup of coffee.

Eventually we arrived back at the downtown Sheraton which actually had a room ready for us….a very nice room on the 22^nd floor.  I can see all the way to the airport from our window.  The mountains surrounding are beautiful, and all is well.  Between the clothes I washed at the Arizona Grand and a couple of things I purchased at the store across the street, I have adequate clean clothing.

I even contacted a good friend and former co-worker, who lives in Phoenix now.  She got off work early in order to come and see me.  We had a great visit at the local Starbucks.

By the time I got to Phoenix, I was exhausted and felt like Murphy’s Law had been operating in my life …..but I’m fine now, and appreciative of the people who went out of their way to be helpful in fighting off Murphy.