I am deeply interested in how people respond to such news. After all, I may be in their shoes some day. Many of my core beliefs about life are wrapped up in my ability to walk, provide for myself, and provide for those I love. What if I was unable to walk?

Some elderly people accept their new circumstances stoically. They believe that staying with their children would create hardship, or strained relationships. “I don’t want to be a burden,” they will often say. I certainly admire their selflessness. I am not sure I could be so magnanimous. Who knows how we will respond if and when such decisions come to or lives?

*Itzhak Perlman broke a string on his violin at the beginning of a concert in Houston in 1995. Due to his physical limitations, getting a new string would have required a great deal of time and effort. Instead, he continued playing on three strings, improvising as he performed. The crowd was deeply moved by his performance and gave him a standing ovation. His comment …”You know, sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.”

The people I have seen smiling in nursing homes are those who find other people to talk to and encourage. They have incredible patience and learn to wait on those who wait on them. They are wise enough to be kind to those who feed them their meals, change their bedding, etc…for it is their kindness on which they depend.

What we take into the loss of independence are those fruits of the Spirit that do not depend on circumstances. Love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5: 22) are “heart kept” and cannot be stolen away. You can love your caregivers. You can show them joy and offer them peace. You can be patient and show goodness. You can be gentle with others and practice self-control. I have seen others accomplish this.

A good friend of mine lived to be 93, and spent the last few years of her life in assisted living. Though a stroke had paralyzed her right side, she typed long e-mail letters with one hand, and conducted Bible studies with many of her caregivers and fellow tenants. I find her example admirable and worthy of imitation. I hope I can respond as well should the need arise. We may lose our physical freedom, but the Spirit remains free.

*Taken from Light on the Fringe: Finding Hope in the Darkness of Depression by Gary H. Lovejoy and Gregory M. Knopf.

Author David Martin

This book is written by physicians for physicians, and it addresses a pressing need in healthcare: The need for better communication between doctors and patients. The authors acknowledge that, for many physicians, communication is not their strong suit. They then proceed to lay out a practical, positive approach that doctors can use to relate more effectively with their patients. What impressed me, aside from the very fact that the book exists, is how similar the emphasis of Back, Arnold and Tulsky is to the emphasis of our training of volunteers and interns at Lifeline.

The authors articulate seven principles which illustrate their overall approach (pp. 6-7):

1. Start with the patient’s agenda.
2. Track both the emotion and the cognitive data you get from the patient.
3. Stay with the patient and move the conversation forward one step at a time.
4. Articulate empathy explicitly.
5. Talk about what you can do before you talk about what you can’t do.

Chapters are devoted to such thorny doctor-patient communication issues as: Talking about serious news; discussing prognosis; conducting a family conference; dealing with conflict; transitions to end-of-life care; talking about dying; and saying goodbye. In each chapter the authors lay out the problem, illustrate it, and lay out a “road map” for the physician to build communication skill in that area. Especially helpful are verbatim-like text boxes in which samples of a conversation are laid out under two columns: “What Happened” and “What We Can Learn.”

The authors function as empathetic, though uncompromising, coaches, providing their fellow physicians with practical tools, challenges, and encouragement in improving their relational skills.

Even though the book is written for physicians, I found it to be a very helpful review of basic communication skills and strategies. It merits close attention by anyone who works closely with persons dealing with serious illness and loss.

Author: Paul Riddle

So different from the sad, frightened child I had seen a couple of months ago when I first met her. Injured in a serious car accident that had claimed part of one of her limbs, Lizzie was traumatized not only in body but in spirit as well. What a shock for a child of seven to go through! What a shock for anyone to go through. At our first meeting Lizzie was huddled under the sheets, tentative, almost afraid to engage anyone new, like an injured animal licking its wounds.

Slowly at first, she began bit by bit to adjust. Her mother, Sarah, was by her side constantly, encouraging, supportive, present. And the medical staff couldn’t have been better. Not only the doctors and nurses addressing her physical injuries, but also the child life specialists, physical therapists, chaplains and others who provided emotional and spiritual support. Also family friends, relatives, and her church community all stepped up.

Today was to be our last visit, and we both knew it. Lizzie was to be transferred later that day to a different hospital, where she could receive additional, specialized care. It was a joyful visit, and when it was over she gave me a hug.

Walking away from the room, I felt a sense of joy at the progress Lizzie had made, along with a twinge of sadness that my role in her care had come to an end. I also marveled at God’s ability to mend that which is broken – to bring healing and wholeness to injured bodies and spirits.

I treasure my brief association with Lizzie. In our visits, I sought to provide spiritual support, but I also received a blessing from God through her. For that I am thankful.

Blessings to you, Lizzie. May God strengthen, sustain and guide you all your days.

Author:Paul Riddle

2But his delight and desire are in the law of the Lord, and on His law he habitually meditates by day and by night.”

Worshiping in the small country church shaped my world from an early age. I can remember napping while the preacher expounded on things I could not fathom. The sun would shine in from one of the long windows and warm my back during the cold winter days. If my mother caught me dozing, she might thump the back of my head. My embarrassment was worse than the pain of the thumping! I did manage to listen more attentively as the years went by.

Those sermons were filled with stories of those who were caught in adultery, power struggles between Jesus and his critics, and compelling narratives about miraculous healings.
Healing is something we long for when we are ill or injured. If you have a stiff neck, and cannot move without pain, you want to feel better. You might go to a doctor, and endure physical therapy in order to be healed. Pain gets your attention and requires a response.

Though we do not like pain, it does serve a purpose. It tells us something is wrong. If we ignore it, we can even cause greater injury.

In like manner, we can feel spiritual pain. We are uneasy about something and know that our lives are amiss in some way. If we do not give this pain the attention it needs, it can fester and lead to greater heartache. Pain thumps us on the head and tells us to pay attention.

Maybe the best time to find healing for our spiritual pain is before the crisis comes. It is good to do some spiritual house cleaning from time to time, so that when sickness or injury arrives, we can rely on a faith that is deep and enduring.

“3And he shall be like a tree firmly planted by the streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season; its leaf also shall not fade or wither…”

Author: David Martin

The frail, wisp of a man barely puckered his cover-sheet; however, you could tell he was a much loved giant in the eyes of the man and woman standing beside his bed. A son on his right side was holding one hand and a daughter on the other side was holding the other one. It was a beautiful sight, made even more wonderful by their warm, welcoming smiles.

After introducing myself, the son told the father in Spanish who I was. With a smile as big as the sun he spoke, immediately taking the conversation in an unusual direction. He wanted to know about me: children, grandchildren, my age. The similarities established a rapport that would last throughout his hospitalization.

As I entered his room for my second visit, Juan threw his arms in the air as though he was welcoming a long lost brother. His ear-to-ear smile was punctuated by sparkling eyes. Through his son we talked of physical health, the importance of family and God’s blessings. Before I left it was important to Juan to demonstrate his improvement, so he walked across the room for me to see.

My next two visits were without the son or daughter there. She works during the day; he works as a janitor at night. Both times, mercifully for me I thought, Juan was asleep. Each time I left a note for his children to read to him.

On my last visit he had been transferred to the Intermediate Care Unit. The son had gone to lunch. What could we do but smile at each other I asked myself. Then putting the palms of my hands together I brought them up to my chin and bowed my head. Juan nodded his head, reached for my hand and closed his eyes. I said, “Our Father in heaven.” “Gracias,” he quietly said. At each comma, each period, each pause in the prayer there was a quietly spoken “Gracias.”

Juan did not understand my words, but trusted me to use them well. It was our prayer. Though neither of us is bilingual, we knew the Father understands the language of our hearts lifted in prayer.

Author: Dan Bonner

I’m excited to be a part of helping to launch these new beginnings in the lives of people I care about. Not only do I find this work personally satisfying, I also find it spiritually uplifting. At the core of my personal theology is the conviction that God’s main line of business – at least as far as human beings are concerned – is redemption, the making of new beginnings. When I serve on a selection committee, when I help a new chaplain or a former intern launch a career or begin a course of formation, I feel that I’m participating in a small way in God’s Kingdom work of making all things new, and that leaves me with a feeling of deep satisfaction.

God’s blessings to you this week.

Author: Paul Riddle

The Peace of Wild Things
Wendell Berry, Collected Poems

When despair grows in me

and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water,

and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Author: David Martin

“This is not going to go on much longer,” she declared. “Not going to go on much longer?” I asked. “I’m dying,” she said matter-of-factly. Thus began a deep conversation in which she did most of the talking and I did most of the listening.

Emma was very much at peace with her life, at peace with herself, and at peace with God. Looking back over her life, she was able to see many times in which God had been there for her, providing protection, opening doors of opportunity, providing needed resources just when they were needed.

Church had always been a source of replenishment for Emma. Reflecting on the years when she was raising her children, juggling the demands of being a single parent and holding down a full-time job, she said it was always important for her to go to services at church anytime the doors were open – Sunday morning, Sunday evening, Wednesday night – even when she was bone weary. “What was it about church that caused you to go even when you didn’t want to?” I asked. “My flowers needed watering,” she said simply.

“My flowers needed watering.” That phrase was Emma’s metaphor for what church meant to her. It was where she went for replenishment. It was where her friends were. It was where she encountered God in special ways. It was home.

I must confess that Emma watered my flowers that day. I was moved by her forthrightness in facing her approaching death, and I was uplifted by her simple trust in the God who had been faithful to her in so many ways over the course of her life. I told Emma how much her faith encouraged me, and her face, worn with illness, brightened. By God’s grace, we both received a blessing that day.

Author: Paul Riddle

From the womb, we are created as survivors. The will to live is powerfully tenacious, a motivator stronger than despair. As do the animal and plant kingdoms, we fight death with our inmost being. We liken death to defeat, to being overtaken by an evil enemy.

Such imagery is not unbiblical. Utopian Garden of Eden quaked at the introduction of humans tasting death. Hebrew characters spent incredible amounts of energy defending the lives of thier people and themselves. The apex to the Christian narrative is a 30-plus year old carpenter’s son facing death squarely in the eye, all the while promising onlookers resurrection for himself and for them. The apostle Paul refers to death as the ultimate enemy, an enemy who has been de-fanged.

We spend our lifetimes dancing with death, though not always consciously. We know that nature’s life cycle depends upon the death of current residents. We acknowledge our daily bread comes at the cost of something dying on our behalf. We confront the harsh, ugly reality of death when a loved one dies, leaving us devastated and robbed.

The valley of the shadow of death is a place of loss, of bereavement, of unspeakable pain. But shadows, over time, lessen their impact as small amounts of light bring snippets of renewal.

With honest expressions of grief, with encouragement from fellow “losers,” and with time, God brings us new resevoirs of faith, hope, and love.

Author: Virgil Fry

2010?

The date sounds foreign to my ears and looks strange to my eyes. How could it be that so much time has gone by? How much the world has changed since the day of my birth!

When I was born, there were no computers in homes. In fact, TV’s were considered an oddity, and only the very richest among us had them. A scant five years later, my Dad bought our first television, which speaks to the speed of the contraption’s acceptance into American culture. Little did we know how much our world would change because of the glowing boxes adorning virtually every home.

Time flies by and change swirls around us.

The hospital I was born in is no longer standing. I am still standing, however. (That, too, could change).

But hospitals are still among us. There is a need that has not changed. That being, people get sick. People still grow ill. People still die.
I hear the clock ticking.

Blink and it will be 2011. The changes will come.

The question is, “How will we handle the changes?” What will we rely on when the storms come? Where will we turn for help?
It is a good thing to prepare for the day of Jonah. It is a wise thing to ponder what we will do when circumstances threaten to swallow us.
Psalm 46: 1 tells us, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” He is there in the storm offering safety and strength.
Present…with us, beside us, over us, under us…Immanuel.

In the coming year, my prayer for you (and for me), is that you will feel (and know) that God is present when change and trouble descend.
May we all be comforted and encouraged by His strength.

Author: David Martin