Tag: carer

Kindness at the coffee shop

photo credit: Linh H. Nguyen http://photopin.com"
photo credit:
Linh H. Nguyen
http://photopin.com”

I order my latte with whole milk.

None of this ‘low fat’ stuff…..I like the creamy, rich taste in my coffee. Personal choice.

I select a place in the sun.  The table has four chairs, and there’s only me. I sit down anyway.  No point considering others when no one knows me here, right?  What to do as I slowly sip the nectar of the morning.  Bible? Computer, catch up on emails? Perhaps just chill and look out the window at this beautiful spring morning…. But today the Message calls….

As I read about the some of the last words of Paul the Apostle in 2 Timothy and write thoughtfully about the closeness of a Saviour who is always there even when others have ‘run’, even when we may feel deserted and alone…I am engrossed.  Suddenly a voice from a table behind me disturbs…. interrupting my train of thought. After a while it really invades my space.  So naturally I reluctantly listen in on the conversation.

“So what are you reading today my friend?  Oh…First Samuel? “

My ears prick up. 

Unexpected, the answer comes in garbled speech that only the person mouthing the sounds understands, surely. Certainly I do not.  Words stream out of the responder’s mouth like coins from a Vegas slot machine as the jackpot is hit.  Words that speak care, remarkably loving.

No one else in the coffee shop even seems to notice.  So I return to my own world.

I hear an attempt at words again….His thoughts tumble all over the coffee shop as he fights to bring what’s happening in his mind out in the open. My seated friend responds.

And immediately it takes me back.  To a man who impacted my life like few others.  Ever.  His was a brain tumour, but today, whatever the cause, the garbled words of the man behind my chair on the next table brings back a memory buried and forgotten on this lovely spring day in Minnesota. Perhaps only Jesus knows what he is really trying to say.

And then attention turns to the caring, beautiful words of the first man.  Slowly he translates the words and stamps the gobbledygook sentences with value and integrity. He looks into the eyes of the one whose words are imprisoned, trapped inside his body.  Knowing his thoughts and communicating with the same Saviour with whom I was also communicating seconds before.  The man is trapped in a world which values communication, but in its own style.

The kind hearted man sees further than appearances.

As the stilted but friendly conversation ends, there’s a knitting of two hearts and a common love for Jesus.  There in the coffee shop.  Words of no meaning it seems, in my understanding.  And yet a world of relationship shared this day.

As the man on the table behind me rises to leave, slinging his backpack roughly across his shoulder, he grabs his takeout cup of coffee and thoughtfully sips. Lifting it in a farewell salute to his friend, he puts his shoulders back, straightening his load. He strides meaningfully between the tables and makes his way for the door.

But on the way he stops again.

So close to me that I can hear his next conversation well now, he bends to chat to an obese young man who’s entered the coffee shop a few minutes before.  This is the kind of guy you avoid.  His are filthy clothes and he sports marks on his shorts at the back where he’s failed to clean himself up….  His demeanor seems jolly, but his appearance is repulsive.  My neighbour deliberately speaks such words of concern and kindness him.  How’s it going with your schooling? How’s your Dad today?  Patting his shoulder. Pouring grace and love all over this misfit of a young man.

He leaves carrying his cup and a sweet smile of contentment breaks out upon the face of the kind coffee shop man.  And as he walks along the footpath outside, and I get a full glimpse of the face that accompanies the even kinder voice…my heart melts.

I can’t stop the tears.

They roll down my cheeks, wrecking my carefully applied mascara and blush, tracking on my skin and inconveniently messing up my preparation.  That’s the thing….unwarranted emotion that creeps up and stops you in your nice, carefully planned spring day, wryly menacing and secretly annoying.

That’s the thing…it’s so inconvenient.

I’d met Jesus today, first hand, in the actions and heart and words of another. I’d eavesdropped in on the words of the Saviour to one of His kids…..

Help me, Lord. I need to be interruptible. Everyday.

Colossians 3:12     Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience

 

 

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Empty Nest Syndrome

 

Bald Eagle in flight. http://photopin.com/
Bald Eagle in flight.
http://photopin.com

I love flying!

I couldn’t help but feel impressed by the takeoff.  I have a peculiar, indeed, somewhat unusual, fascination about aircraft…the domestic, not the war type. Flying holds a place in my heart and it’s in this space I can create better, rest pretty well and dream and think more prolifically than most places on Earth.

Ever since I flew as a flight attendant with Qantas in and out of Australia, I have enjoyed the times that I am able to sit and experience the beauty of flight. The escape into the skies of these mere mortal bodies as we partake, albeit briefly, of the joy of seeing the Earth from God’s airspace is a constant charge… an adrenalin rush to me! Perhaps I should have been an astronaut. Or a bird of flight!

Breaking News!

As the captain interrupts my train of thought with his usual informative patter via the PA, we quickly cover the miles of our journey towards Dallas.  Today we stop briefly there, then on towards Los Angeles.  This mammoth day marks the close of our trip to the USA.  I turn my thoughts to home, and family.  Thoughts of our grown up kids there.  My little black dog, dear thing.  Our house in the most beautiful valley in the world.

And then comes the jolt as I remember that home will not be the same anymore.  Ever. It will be in some ways empty, because the last one of our kids who has just recently ‘flown the nest’ in order to begin expanding her world, has left.   

She has settled , for who knows how long, in the great world city of Los Angeles.

No, home won’t be the same now. 

I can hardly allow myself to entertain the thoughts that want to crowd and crumble my heart.  The empty bedroom; her precious little childhood things that sit gathered and packed in a corner.

I wasn’t there when she left the nest.  Her father and I were away on this trip.  So for us, goodbye comes in the next couple of days when we leave Los Angeles for Sydney.

I quickly move on, not dwelling on the unnecessary emotion that this goodbye promises to bring.

We were in Jacksonville last night. On our way to the airport this morning our driver spoke about, among other things (she was quite the talker) the local Florida bird-life.  We got onto the subject of the American national emblem, the bald eagle. These days in that state, the magnificent and nationally acclaimed species is returning.  Apparently they build their nests high up in the mobile phone towers and live, confident and strong, in a place where they weren’t supposed to be, but now occupy as their own. That place is where their perspective is all encompassing.  Their view one that royalty in the animal kingdom are privy to alone.   It’s a vantage point,  brilliantly positioned for them to educate their babies in the art form for which they are famous.  And for which those babies were created. 

Bald Eagle Nest. Photopin.com
Bald Eagle Nest.
Photopin.com

Their keen eye and purpose combine as they hunt from a great height and feed those babes until one day, they will drop them out of the nest.  The little ones will learn how to fly. It’s called survival. Their hearts will be encouraged as they at first panic at the speed and precarious, random nature of their initial solo flight.  That’s the one when Mama Eagle literally turfs them out of the nest.  I imagine they struggle to overcome their surprise, but quickly gather all that they have been created to employ, as they flap those great but novice wings and experience God’s breeze and lifting currents in flight.

And before long, baby eagle is able to be seen high in the sky, doing what God has created it to do.  Soaring.  Being magnificent.

Mother eagle…..  Do you feel like I do when you watch that?

The need to teach and then to let go?  The fact that you have educated your babies to fly and then they actually take you at your word and do it? And before long there is no real need for you to be there.  They have learned the path of life.  They have become ‘grown up’. They turn their heads towards the future.

The ‘Empty Nest’….it’s  an expression, a naming of the empty-hearted feeling that every other Mama knows.  Every mother who has educated, trained, loved and encouraged her babies to fly…   As she champions her offspring, remembering their birth and childhood ways, she watches on, ever protective and ready to swoop in and rescue.

We are on the approach to Dallas.  Next top Los Angeles.  Four days to see my baby angel.  Then I must become Mother Eagle. 

Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

31 but those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint. [1]

 

 

 

 

[1] The New International Version. 2011 (Is 40:31). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan.

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I’ll Be Home For Christmas

photo credit: scottwills via photopin cc
photo credit: scottwills via photopin cc

I heard yesterday that Aussie troops have pulled out of Afghanistan, leaving the war behind. There are some 400 who will remain, but they are not going to be in the danger zone where the killing and the maiming of civilians and troops alike took place over the last years, ever since 2001.

The troops are making their way home for Christmas. Can you imagine the joy around some Christmas family tables next week, where the returned heroes are the centre of attention? How the families must have longed for their sons and daughters to be released from the fray and be on the journey home so many times.

But I do have to wonder…how will the next months, even years, play out for these people who have been subject to the horrors of war and active service, who have been separated from friends and loved ones for in some cases months and often years at a time? Is there going to be a problem for some of them with Post War Syndrome, or Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome? When the Christmas things are packed away and life returns to what it was like before…

Have you ever been in a situation of extreme stress, then left that part of your life in order to resume a so-called ‘normal’ life?  

Sometimes you can feel battered beyond recognition, bruised in your emotions to the point where it’s hard to even feel for a while.  It’s not unusual, you know.  These returned soldiers may feel after the Christmas decorations are put away and all the Christmas cake and festival foods are eaten, that they are still in battle.  And sometimes when we’ve been through a ‘big season’ in our lives, we feel the same.

I wrote a book about someone who had Post War Syndrome, and who, because of his inability to relate due to the shattering of the war experience in his life, continued to live within the virtual confines of a prisoner of war camp, long after he was released.

“There’s a war been declared over our lives.  It’s one that will take us to the very ‘edge’ if we will let it.” (check out where this quote came from)

So often we can think that when the war is over, the troops come home, all is well with the world.  But it’s not like that is it?  We are in a ‘war’ everyday.  The big, stress-filled experiences of life want to shoot us down and take us out.

Are you ready to face the enemy now, all guns blazing, or are you beating the retreat with haste, defeated and downtrodden in the wake of the battle?  Are you able to pick yourself up after your experience and resume life, filled now and shaped by the richness of the life-story that you’re living…with every moment beating in you like the adrenalin that courses through the body in battle? Or have you been left defeated, drained and downtrodden?

Here’s a thought from Psalm 86:

“Listen closely to my prayer O Lord,
Hear my urgent cry.
I will call to you whenever trouble strikes,
And you will answer me”.

So often I hear of good people being ‘taken out’ by the circumstances of life.  Unable to forget, unable to forgive, unable to move on.  The emotions can rule us, or….. and yes, there is an alternative, the spirit within us can rule.

So making the spirit strong and able to sustain may just be our answer. And the question, you ask? It’s this: how do I remain strong and get on with life with all its fullness after I’ve been knocked around by life? By calling out for help!

Spiritual things and the spiritual life are as important to us as human beings as anything that we live through, live for or live out. 

Coming ‘home’ for Christmas is  the ultimate homecoming, of course.

It is the dream for every wearied soldier in the battle.  It’s the song we sing in this season….

Michael Buble may sing about it being “if only in my dreams”…but the reality is that homecoming to Jesus is what will strengthen us in every area of our lives, and be the central fibre of our lives if He is allowed to walk with us.  Through the battles, the storms, and the experiences that affect us negatively. And it’s seriously the real thing…the relationship that never lets us down, the one who never leaves, the promise that never fades or wearies us.

I know one thing.  I’ll be home for Christmas.

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photo credit: Matthew Cachia via photopin cc
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There was time to say goodbye.

photo credit: Debris2008 via photopin cc
photo credit: Debris2008 via photopin cc

Have you ever had a season of emotional turmoil?  Where you knew that emotions were building up on the inside, and all that you wanted to do was to share it, but you were never really able to get to the point of the ‘spilling over’ of your thoughts, your emotions, your world as it stands right now? I

It’s like it gets stuck somewhere deep down, a buried treasure covered over by layers and layers, just waiting for the digging, waiting for the discoverers. It is awaiting the time that all the golden coins, precious stones and buried wealth come spilling out, to enrich someone’s life, apart from your own.

As I write this, the news of the passing of Nelson Mandela has hit, and we have seen a deluge of people come together at a South African soccer stadium to mark this historical milestone. The loss of so great a man is impacting. An event that will leave its mark.  A legacy of mammoth proportions.  But the life that was lived will remain in the hearts of his family forever. Their hearts will be touched because they have loved a great man, a father, grandfather, a friend.

His faith and forgiveness through a Joseph type of existence is an example to our world. He had a will to live and do good through the most horrific of circumstances, a heart that could forgive.

He lead through the scars, most of which the masses will never know of, and yet, his family heard his soul.

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Let me tell you today about a legacy that was left by someone whose funeral was not attended by the ‘greats’ of this world, but by a family who stood united, looking towards another sunrise with hope and faith. They did this because of the constant prayer and focus of one man, who cared for them.

A month ago today I lost this dear friend, my one and only sibling, my brother.

I have not been able to write here or anywhere at all since then, such has been my anguished state of heart. You see, in writing one can bear one’s soul and set free the inner most thoughts that are hyper sensitive and vulnerable, yet able to release another with their testimony.

Have you ever had a season like that?  You want to share, but you’re aching inside so much that you can’t? 

There are times when we’re just not able to allow the plundering of our souls.  It hurts. But then a time comes when we understand that the very act of opening up will bring a richness to us all. It’s an understanding that displaces the inward isolation that can come through storms in our lives. And this sharing then brings healing.  It can open the doors so that others can relate and be revived themselves.

And the healing is what we are all aiming for, because it brings the promise of newness.  And right there, I think I’ve learned something again (does it ever stop?):

No matter what I face in life, Jesus is there to bear my burden as I in turn bare my heart.

And as my heart opens, creaking all the way with the rust and dryness that the storms and the grief can build, He gently coaxes my understanding to a place of comfortable acceptance. And I feel new.

Oh, there are certainly the ‘moments,’ unpredictable, piercing my day like a bolt of lightning out of the blue southern sky. But around me are the faithful ones, the acts of kindness, the empathy of those who understand the treasure hunt that is life. They bring to me the growth and freshness of friendship, love and a new future. It’s held out in their hands like a silver platter, my choice being whether I will take it.

Why is it so hard at these times to reveal? To share? To be transparent?

It was a beautiful home-going that day, just four short weeks ago.  There was the reconciliation of he and his only true love after over twenty years. There was the spending of precious time with those he loved the most. There was time to say goodbye.

Children. Family. Love. Acceptance. Eternity.

I’ve been reading the book of Hebrews ever since, and it stirs my soul about faith. How many of those great heroes of the faith never even  saw what they were believing for, and yet, they kept believing? It is inspiring me to live and walk in truth.

So, I guess this piece today is about never giving up. Even if you don’t see your rainbow in the sky.  Even if you can’t tell which way is up for a season. Even if you are finding it hard to communicate, to share, or to even get in touch with your soul.

Keep believing.

Because all your doubting will never, ever change the truth: He loves, He lives, He longs for you.  Leave regret behind.

This quote from C S Lewis was on the card we printed for my brother’s farewell, “Has this world been so kind to you that you should leave with regret? There are far, far, better things ahead than any we leave behind”. (C S Lewis)

No truer word has touched my own soul. Farewell Mandiba. Your family will never forget.

Farewell my brother. Your family remember, always.

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Rising Above my Situation – Transcendence in Jesus

 

Peace, Woronora Valley

I was shocked into the realisation today.

It’s not that I wasn’t taking notice.  But I was so involved with the everyday caring that I hadn’t seen what was missing.

Ever been pulled up sharp by God Himself?

And all of a sudden He’s in there, reminding you of His magnificence…His presence that transcends everything in your life!

I was at the hospital.  Oh wait.  I haven’t told you about this yet.  I’m in a situation of caring for my very ill and only sibling, my ‘big brother’ who is a man of God.  Loves Jesus! With all his heart and soul.  But now he’s in this situation, only months long now, and finds himself desperate to cry out for the very Presence that heals.  The Presence that guides.  The comforting Presence that transcends. 

"My peace I leave with you...."
“My peace I leave with you….” (John 14:27)

I think that I’m ‘transcending’ when I say a prayer, when I read an inspiring passage, but I learnt something today….When we ‘transcend’ something, we actually RISE ABOVE it….We’re not on the same ‘level’ any more.

“Transcend”:   “be or go beyond the range or limits of (something abstract, typically a conceptual field or division)”   To “surpass” (a person or an achievement).

The dictionary definition doesn’t do it justice, what I saw today.

A man who’s been told his life is dwindling fast away, still holding on to the faith and the confession that is his life…that is Christ.  When the news of the brain tumour hit us all we had the ‘right confession’…rising above what was being declared by a faithless world. Though we still continue to try, the help comes in way that is foreign to us, unusual…transcendent. And we feel inadequate, and we feel lack and pain and frustration…and it gives us something to rise above, again. But those of us who experience the transcendence can soar above. We rise.

He lifted his arm right up in adoration of His Saviour. Jesus, the only one who can do anything about this situation, in reality.  Yes there are doctors, nurses, hospitals and drugs.  And it all helps.  I guess.  But what transcends  it all…what causes us all to rise is the faith, the believing, the knowing the Saviour’s Presence?  What causes our spirit to gush, to speak forth praise and worship when we have lost even the capability to express ourselves in words…

My inspiration

The witnessing of it. As I read him the scriptures…his arm upward along with his face in a blessing that gave me the privilege of belonging…of being a part of, his journey. He spoke out adoration, though he could speak little else. A never ending flood of words, though used a lifetime in other ways, and now selected to support the TRANSCENDING faith that carries the Spirit with him…

I’m supporting.  I’m caring.  I’m believing.  But even now and much more…I’m transcending.  Rising above the storm.  

What an honour.  

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 4:7 (NIV)

And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, Ephesians 2:6
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus,”
Ephesians 2:6

 

 

 

 

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IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”  C.S. Lewis

SUNRISE WORONORA RIVER

Have you ever been right in the middle of a ‘storm’ and almost viewed what’s happening to you as though you were checking out someone else’s situation?

It’s unfamiliar, strangely exhilarating, and altogether defined in your life, a situation like no other. A flash of summer lightening after an oppressive day of heat, it leaves its mark on memory, though soon no longer visible. The ‘storm’ that you’re going through can be the working of God Himself –  indeed the pain that the storm inevitably brings is often a catalyst for the building blocks of character.

But have you ever been so ‘kept’ in the ‘eye’ of that storm that you felt it was all just a little surreal?

Well, I guess, that’s where I am just now.

Seems I’m on the ‘roller coaster’ ride of my life. Caring for a dear and much loved family member with cancer is like that. I mean, it’s an experience that at once draws out so much adrenalin, as you become the person upon whom is placed such a dependance, yet on the other hand scares you, making you wonder about what the future will dictate for your life and theirs.

Nothing is certain.  Everything is happening too fast. But then everything is happening too slowly.  Outcomes are unknowable; so unclear, so frighteningly unfamiliar and yet, with it comes this solid, etherial confidence that I am safe, contrasting with the natural circumstances. That familiar hand that guides. That voice that calms. That heart that knows. That’s what is making the difference here.

It’s like being in the ‘eye’ of a cyclone. That place where the storm is held at bay. That unique, almost eerie space in time, when the lashing of the seas and the destructiveness of the wind and waves is held….The moments when the sure, surrounding love and peace is exuded and envelopes the soul.  Though the storm still rages around you. Though you know it may yet grow worse.

‘Peace, be still!’.

What supernatural force surrounds me so well that I feel upheld –  though the winds of adversity not only blow, but are currently howling the place down?

It could only be the solid, peaceful presence of One greater than myself. Stealth that expertly invades the fear space. Unannounced but invited.  Surely, skilfully corralling the wild horses of fear that threaten at each change of my situation to turn and trample me…

Calm now.  And with each rise in the intensity of my own  personal tempest, the opposite of the expected. Juxtaposed with the fury. Calling the natural and the supernatural to show their power.

And a knowing which will win.

Every new scenario of terror that unfolds with the days has a plan to take me down.  And every time I turn the corner and my way to peace is naturally blocked, the Supernatural intervenes. Like a rescuer promising my survival in the face of my attacker. He cordons off my enemy and releases His grace into me, throwing me a life line.

And I agree to swim and not sink. There’s a power in that agreement. When I agree with Him who’s in control, I thwart the powerlessness of disagreement.  When I read, repeat, ruminate on the Word of God and agree with Him in it, that’s when the Power comes.

His peace amazes me.   His beauty fills my mind and heart, overcoming this beast that assails, in all its storming power and glory.

I am in the storm’s ‘eye’.

We don’t ask to go through these times of stress and tempest…I mean, who would?  But when we do, we can reach out a hand and a prayer to bring this monster tempest to its knees…to strip it of its power.

‘What if?’, ‘Why me?’ and ‘If only…’  you don’t belong here in the Eye. ‘I trust You’.  ‘I release my heart to you’, and ‘Lead me, Lord’….the language of the peace in the midst of the terror and uncertainty.

Here are some things that I am learning, ever on the potters wheel, even in the midst of this.

THE EYE OF THE STORM IS WHERE I NEED TO LIVE.

– Being tossed around with every wind and wave of tempest in every situation that I am subject to – that’s not where I need to be.  Or indeed where I am called to be by Christ. I can live opposite to what assails me. 

THE EYE OF THE STORM IS WHERE I LEARN THE MOST.

– Not that we pray for adversity, but when it comes, why are we surprised?  Here’s a verse my husband sent me on my phone last week:

 Job 4:3-6……..“In the past you have encouraged many people; you have strengthened those who were weak.  Your words have supported those who were falling;  you encouraged those with shaky knees.  But now when trouble strikes, you lose heart.  You are terrified when it touches you.  Doesn’t your reverence for God give you confidence?  doesn’t your life of integrity give you hope?”

THE EYE OF THE STORM WILL ENVELOPE ME WITH PEACE.

How to release this to Him, when my knuckles are white with just hanging on? Pray, pray and pray. Talking to God – a conversation, not a tirade or a shouting match…I remind myself constantly that God actually loves me! And yet, and yet…the struggle continues.

God’s ‘megaphone’!  Am I listening?  Am I still enough in the eye of the storm to realise that there is a place of peace here?

The question just begs an answer, doesn’t it?  Yet often our answer is the whisper in the midst of our circumstance.

“Speak, for your servant is listening.” (I Sam 3:10)

JAMES CAM. GDNS

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