Devotions for the Rest of us #12

"Oh Precious is the Blood, that makes us white as snow...."

As Christians we sing about the blood of Jesus, we talk about how we are covered by His blood, we are amazed at how it was shed for us. But what do we really think about blood?

In health care we fear it. It has contaminates in it. If someone has a disease it is often carried by the blood or shows up by blood studies. It's very personal. We do everything we can to make sure that no one's blood touches us, because of all the things that can be bad.

It's donated, "Give life!" Because man can't make an exact copy, we can't just replace the real thing. In fact, you can donate your own blood before you have surgery if you need. But donating blood is a very precious thing and something that everyone who is eligible should do.

So what got me thinking this way? The other day I had a patient that we had to emergently take to the OR, and I went into the room with him. When all was said and done, and I returned to the ER, I had a lot of paperwork to write about this case. I had carried monitors and other equipment back from the OR and it had blood on it. Some was transferred to my arms as I carried things. Later, when it was pointed out to me, I felt quite a bit of emotion as I washed it off. As I washed this patient off of me. This patient.

I only had a short time to care for this patient, and his family will never know the effect of how his life touched mine. I'll never know what he was like in his life but I learned much from him. Hopefully the next time I see someone like him I can be quicker, better. But also the intersection of our lives. We sometimes only see them for minutes, yet we are so touched by their love, their pain, their emotions.

So at the end of it all, I was touched by him. And it was very personal. And he will always be part of me, no matter how much I clean.

You see, part of his life was on me, and I had to wash it off. Yet, I need the blood of our wonderful Lord on me to be clean. His life. Not to be washed off, but to wash me. Wonderful, amazing blood. Life.

Devotions for the Rest of Us #11

I've recently had several occasions to consider what our freedom in Christ means. It amazes me how so many of us can become entrapped in what we think we must do and what we think is wrong. I suspect you can build a case for most anything with scripture, because we seem to do it on a regular basis. We trap each other, then judge each other, forgetting our own entanglements.

Our son and his wife have a puppy that frequently gets to come over and play here. They live in an apartment and Roman must be on a leash there. It's amazing to watch him when he comes here, there are three acres that he can run over, and as long as he responds to our calls, he gets to run free. He starts very hesitant, but then as he realizes that he can go, he bounds off, smelling the trees, the grass, and follows our dogs everywhere.

Is that how we are? When we are first brought into the kingdom, we first often see ourselves as being in this place of "you can't do this, you can't do that." We often fail to see it's not what we can't do, but what we can.

The old desires fall away. We aren't bound by things, we change our desires. So if you choose to show your faith in a certain way, by your dress, by your stickers on your car, it's fine. But am I less of a believer if I don't? I think not, I think that we are all on this journey, and the paths may vary, but He leads us all the way.

What I see is that where I am weak, will you come beside me? Where I am strong, I'll be beside you. Not to judge you, but to lift you up, to encourage you. And because some things are easy for you and not for me, be understanding. Math is a huge struggle, but history comes alive for me. For you, some things are easy to see, for me not. Neither of us is wrong, but He made us all different. Yet images of Him.

And where I want to live is at the foot of the cross. Because there we are all the same.

So What Do You Think This Means....

I have a co-worker that is quick to speak... a lot. She talks, and talks, and talks... and speaks loudly. She's not mean or rude, or anything like that but lately it's been getting on my nerves. You see, I've really been convicted over the last six months or so to not speak needlessly just to hear the sound of my own voice. I'll call her Janie for the purpose of this story.

I hope you understand, I'm not saying that Janie is bothersome. In fact, the other day in our little meeting before we went out to face the patients, one of the women had a quote for the day, to inspire us. She then called on Janie to elaborate on it. I wanted to scream... the quote needed no comment!!!! AAAHHHHH You must understand, Janie is sweet, will do anything for you.

So last night I'm sleeping, no medications or anything to induce it. I was so tired from a very busy day. In the dream for some reason I have the dogs and Janie and we are going to my tax accountant's office. For unknown reasons it's in North Little Rock. So I'm driving, Janie is talking and I'm driving and Janie is talking..... and all of a sudden I realize where I am, but it's different. Now there's this bridge going straight up. I'm terrified of straight up and I'm terrified of bridges. So, I "put on my big girl panties" and hit the gas. We fly up the bridge/hill, top it, and OH NO, it's a sudden drop (no road) into a body of water!

As I woke up, my fears screaming in my ears, I realize THAT JANIE IS STILL TALKING!!!!!!!!

I need therapy

And Then I Went Shopping

I went on my first mission trip in May to Honduras at the ripe old age of 51. I've been supporting my kids and others for years on these trips but this was to be my big adventure. I've never been out of the country, so the whole experience was to be new.

I won't go into all the details, but I was on a medical mission trip with group of people from a different church than I attend. The doctor that leads the trip invited me last year, but I was unable to pull everything together. Actually, I was so nervous about the whole thing that I was really relieved. I kept thinking of all the things that would be difficult: plane trips (it goes better if I am drugged), bus rides in mountains (again, probably better if I am drugged), and bathroom issues..... (my imagination was not far from wrong on this one).

The flight down was great, first day was good, and then they were going to take us shopping. This did involve one of those bus rides that stressed me. They told us that we would be fairly safe where we were going, but to still stay with others. Of course, the first thing that happened is I kept getting separated from others. We only had a short period of time to shop, and I wanted to get gifts for my three sons, the two daughters in law, and my husband.

I ended up going to one of the larger shops and spending a lot of time on picking out earrings for the girls. Suddenly I realized that I only had a few minutes to pick out t-shirts and this shop was not organized well. There were a lot of gecko shirts that were sooooo cute, however I was trying to find different sizes, do the conversion for the money (I only had cash), you can imagine. So I found several shirts, including two that had lots of gecko's frolicking together. I was excited, still had money left over for essentials I might need.

So I head back to the bus with minutes to spare! One of my friends asked to see my purchases, I was so proud. I showed her the earrings, then the shirts. And that's when she laughed and pointed out that I had gecko's in all sorts of sexual positions, not innocent frolicking.

So now when I tell people about my mission trip, I have to humble myself and tell them how I bought gecko porn for my children.

A view of the city

Me at an overlook of the city.... after church on Sunday

The first church we ministered in, this is a view from the front steps


A line of people waiting for ministry....


Yup, more babies....

Pictures of Honduras

Washing the children's hair



Holding babies.... they brought them to me, I love it!



This is the widow that gave all, and below is her family in the house they had. Her sons are building her a new house.





This is my co-worker Bonnie, who encouraged me so much on this trip, and Eeyore (who travels to work with me.

Gracie's Trip to the Vet

Gracie is my black cat. We found her in 1999 at the cemetery where we had just buried my mom a few weeks before. Gracie was up a tree, crying. We rescued her and brought her home. She was very sweet and wanted tons of attention. At the time our home was very small and we already had a cat and dog, so we found a home for her. After a few months we heard that the arrangement wasn't working out so we brought her back to our home. The damage had been done, she was withdrawn, skiddish, and hid all the time.

Time has passed and now she still hides from strangers, but lives in my bedroom. Periodically Gracie gets UTI's and has to go to the vet. Our signal for this is that suddenly she can pee in the toilet, my sink, and if that doesn't get my attention, my bed. Friday after noon I caught her in the toilet but misread what she was doing. She clarified it my peeing on my bed so I would understand. I made the call.

The vet requested that we put her in the carried about 4-5 hours before coming so there would be urine. I set the alarm to get up at 5am. This morning she was easy to find, I trapped her in a small room, stuffed her in the carrier. Gracie cussed at me, and unstuffed herself. I caught her again, stuffed her in the carrier. She got away. After a few more minutes I woke up Gary and got a roll of duct tape. We trapped her, stuffed her in the carrier and duct taped it securely. Gracie then began to howl.

The howling was constant most of the morning and for the 40 minute trip to the vet. She got a little sweeter when I opened the carrier and let her stick her head out, but I was really afraid it she might get away.

The vet was nice, squeezed her a bit, got some urine, shoved a thermometer into her (without introductions I might add), and gave her a shot. She doesn't have a UTI, but he suggested that she was angry with us about something (you think????). So she now has a nice pheromone collar to wear. Supposedly it will calm her down. Remind her of her mother.....

Since she looked a bit ratty when the vet saw her, I thought maybe a bath would be in order (he was concerned about her skin). So this afternoon Gracie was given a nice bath..... okay, I caught her, shoved her in a sink full of water, rubbed soap on her and rinsed her off, wrapped her in a towel and put her somewhere to dry.

I'm thinking about guarding my bed tonight.....

And the other cats are hiding.....

I've thought about making this a spiritual lesson. You know, how God looks out for us, doing things for our own good, yet we perceive this as trouble coming our way. But frankly, my only regret is that I have no pictures of Gracie getting her bath.

Good and Bad

Today I had a little girl I just want to remember. She came in because mom had noticed an abnormal eye movement. She's in the early elementary school age range. So PCP sent her for an MRI and today they received a call that it was abnormal.

When I first signed up for her as a patient I had heard mom was upset. I took her instead of my orientee. Went in, introduced myself to them and sat on the bed with the girl. I told her that my job was to do two things: one was to take care of her and the other was to help her and answer all her questions. The first thing she wanted to know was, duh, "am I going to get a shot?" I told her that I didn't know, but if I did we would talk about it first.

Of course the orders I got for her included a lot of blood work and an IV. I called Child Life to come and they did IV teaching with her. She was so brave, sat up on the bed and held still for me. I was so proud of her!

I explained to the parents every step that we would take, giving them all the time and attention I could. See, the thing is that this kid has something serious. This thing is probably not going to go well, and I wanted their first encounter with us to be positive, because it won't be their last.

It sucks because I want them all to walk out okay. Or at least if it's going to suck to be to loser parents and their ferrel kids. Not to these parents, not to this kid. So instead of being admitted over the holiday weekend, they are going to see the grandparents. Wise parents. Thank you to the doc that explained it to them in a way that they had a choice in what they did.

Today I'm proud of what I do. I really do have a ministry to the "least of these." And I'm very humbled by the bravery of a little girl who has parents that will walk her through the next part.