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.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
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.
Monday, July 11, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, July 01, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Report on the Mission Trip - Eeyore goes to Honduras
And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God."
Everyday in Honduras I read this. Everyday I was touched. I still don't know the full significance of why God had me in this daily, but I suspect it will continue to grow in it.
So first of all, the flights. I did take my ativan, and the flight from Little Rock to Houston was not as smooth as others I've been on, but after that it was great. I will say that my luck on being randomed was in play, first in LR, not too bad, they ran a thing over my hands to see if I had been handling any explosives. When we left Honduras my backpack was searched. They had seen my insulin needles and the guy thought he could have them (I didn't mind, most of them were dirty). So, to save face he took my tape I use at work. Oh well.
Some things I'll deal with generally. The food was fabulous, we ate all but one meal fixed by Honduran cooks at the mission house. They were great. Spoke no English, which we heard later has been a complaint that they should learn (another example of how we as Americans tend to think the world revolves around us). With my sad Spanish I was able to communicate fine with them on my days to clean. :) Sunday we were taken to a nice restaurant "El Patio" where we were served steak and chicken. I don't know how they cooked it, but it was some of the best of both I've ever had. I didn't suffer for lack of food.
There was a lot of prayer lifted up for me, guys, God was so faithful. I just can't tell you how much this trip meant for me. I know we did some good for the Hondurans, but the change was in me.
Sunday we went to a church that we were going to serve in for two days later in the week. First of all, the bus had trouble getting there every time we went. Sunday it got stuck and we had to walk down a hill to go to church. This was a charismatic church, not sure what kind. One thing that threw me was there were no crosses, but there was a menorah and they blew a shofar. The people were sweet. A youth minister with us shared that day and the people seemed to enjoy it. We held a lot of babies and a lot of hugs were given.
Each of the churches that we served in were in some of the worst areas of the city. There were shootings at night and some of the people we saw were gang affiliated. I never felt in danger, but I heard some of the women speaking later that they did.
In trying to tell you what God did, the thing I go back to is the poverty. I'm just stunned. I'll try to post pictures to this site so you can see the one house I went to. And let me share this: I've always had issues about feeling my house isn't good enough (no matter whether it was in my current home or in mobile homes) and thinking that people would look down on me or blah blah blah.... but I have a palace compared to what I saw. But even at that, I was welcomed into this home as if I was a princess! And she hid nothing from me. The home was one room, with spaces between the boards where you could put your hands through. There were tarps up to keep some of the rain out. And there were a few pictures scattered on the wall. The floor was dirt. This particular woman had some sons that were building her a new home, with adobe walls and we were making a concrete floor for her. She had prayed 20 years for this (had been a widow for 30). One interesting thing about her that was shared as we left the church that day.... the church had been taking a special offering and she had money for the week that she was going to give, but something happened and she couldn't give it, so she went home and got all of her money - all that she had been able to save, and brought it to the church for the offering. But before she could give it they called out the names of those that we were going to do the floors for: and it was her! She told the Lord, see, I have your offering, but you have blessed me before I could even give it! Her joy in what she had makes me re-evaluate my life and what I have.
There were many things that God did... 65 people said a prayer of repentance, 1200+ saw medical doctors, 500+ each in dental and for eyeglasses. 160+ saw a chiropractor. There was laughter and there were tears. There was washing of hair to remove lice (and only one person brought some home with them). The hair washing of the children was very touching. They loved it, and you can't touch people without some connection. I reached a point where I was praying over them as I was doing it, so that bonds there would be broken. Maybe a blessing on their life.
But for me, God also met me there. I expected to be very afraid of the plane and the bus rides, but God really gave me peace. I can't describe how special that was.
Before I left for Honduras I was also very frustrated in my job at the hospital. Something really set me off, and I let it be known that I would be happy to work somewhere else. Within days I got a call that a cardiologist was looking for a nurse. God clearly told me I was not to make any decisions until I came back. Fine, I'll wait. On Tuesday when I was doing the children's ministry, there was this one point where I was just watching them, not touching, nothing. Just watching. And I so clearly hear the voice of the Lord telling me to send the children to Him, how much he loves the children, and that my place was to minister to the children.
This trip was wonderful, and I thank everyone who sent me, who prayed for me, and who put up with my whining about the bathrooms. Whether or not I ever go back there, or to any other place, I know that I am a missionary where I work. I'm becoming bolder about sharing the Lord with those in need, and praying for the ones I touch. Most of the time no one knows, but He who sent me does.
One other thing (although there are many), I saw brothers and sisters in Honduras that I know I may never see again, but those interpreters for World Gospel Outreach are on fire for God! They witness strongly, they know the word, and they are excited! It was such a pleasure to work along side them. They propped us little white people up and let us witness, but they were so moving in the Holy Spirit. The WGO staff we met were so humble, so easy to be with. They really gave us a taste of what they do, but they were so gracious in everything. If you ever need a group to work alongside, I highly commend them to you.
Everyday in Honduras I read this. Everyday I was touched. I still don't know the full significance of why God had me in this daily, but I suspect it will continue to grow in it.
So first of all, the flights. I did take my ativan, and the flight from Little Rock to Houston was not as smooth as others I've been on, but after that it was great. I will say that my luck on being randomed was in play, first in LR, not too bad, they ran a thing over my hands to see if I had been handling any explosives. When we left Honduras my backpack was searched. They had seen my insulin needles and the guy thought he could have them (I didn't mind, most of them were dirty). So, to save face he took my tape I use at work. Oh well.
Some things I'll deal with generally. The food was fabulous, we ate all but one meal fixed by Honduran cooks at the mission house. They were great. Spoke no English, which we heard later has been a complaint that they should learn (another example of how we as Americans tend to think the world revolves around us). With my sad Spanish I was able to communicate fine with them on my days to clean. :) Sunday we were taken to a nice restaurant "El Patio" where we were served steak and chicken. I don't know how they cooked it, but it was some of the best of both I've ever had. I didn't suffer for lack of food.
There was a lot of prayer lifted up for me, guys, God was so faithful. I just can't tell you how much this trip meant for me. I know we did some good for the Hondurans, but the change was in me.
Sunday we went to a church that we were going to serve in for two days later in the week. First of all, the bus had trouble getting there every time we went. Sunday it got stuck and we had to walk down a hill to go to church. This was a charismatic church, not sure what kind. One thing that threw me was there were no crosses, but there was a menorah and they blew a shofar. The people were sweet. A youth minister with us shared that day and the people seemed to enjoy it. We held a lot of babies and a lot of hugs were given.
Each of the churches that we served in were in some of the worst areas of the city. There were shootings at night and some of the people we saw were gang affiliated. I never felt in danger, but I heard some of the women speaking later that they did.
In trying to tell you what God did, the thing I go back to is the poverty. I'm just stunned. I'll try to post pictures to this site so you can see the one house I went to. And let me share this: I've always had issues about feeling my house isn't good enough (no matter whether it was in my current home or in mobile homes) and thinking that people would look down on me or blah blah blah.... but I have a palace compared to what I saw. But even at that, I was welcomed into this home as if I was a princess! And she hid nothing from me. The home was one room, with spaces between the boards where you could put your hands through. There were tarps up to keep some of the rain out. And there were a few pictures scattered on the wall. The floor was dirt. This particular woman had some sons that were building her a new home, with adobe walls and we were making a concrete floor for her. She had prayed 20 years for this (had been a widow for 30). One interesting thing about her that was shared as we left the church that day.... the church had been taking a special offering and she had money for the week that she was going to give, but something happened and she couldn't give it, so she went home and got all of her money - all that she had been able to save, and brought it to the church for the offering. But before she could give it they called out the names of those that we were going to do the floors for: and it was her! She told the Lord, see, I have your offering, but you have blessed me before I could even give it! Her joy in what she had makes me re-evaluate my life and what I have.
There were many things that God did... 65 people said a prayer of repentance, 1200+ saw medical doctors, 500+ each in dental and for eyeglasses. 160+ saw a chiropractor. There was laughter and there were tears. There was washing of hair to remove lice (and only one person brought some home with them). The hair washing of the children was very touching. They loved it, and you can't touch people without some connection. I reached a point where I was praying over them as I was doing it, so that bonds there would be broken. Maybe a blessing on their life.
But for me, God also met me there. I expected to be very afraid of the plane and the bus rides, but God really gave me peace. I can't describe how special that was.
Before I left for Honduras I was also very frustrated in my job at the hospital. Something really set me off, and I let it be known that I would be happy to work somewhere else. Within days I got a call that a cardiologist was looking for a nurse. God clearly told me I was not to make any decisions until I came back. Fine, I'll wait. On Tuesday when I was doing the children's ministry, there was this one point where I was just watching them, not touching, nothing. Just watching. And I so clearly hear the voice of the Lord telling me to send the children to Him, how much he loves the children, and that my place was to minister to the children.
This trip was wonderful, and I thank everyone who sent me, who prayed for me, and who put up with my whining about the bathrooms. Whether or not I ever go back there, or to any other place, I know that I am a missionary where I work. I'm becoming bolder about sharing the Lord with those in need, and praying for the ones I touch. Most of the time no one knows, but He who sent me does.
One other thing (although there are many), I saw brothers and sisters in Honduras that I know I may never see again, but those interpreters for World Gospel Outreach are on fire for God! They witness strongly, they know the word, and they are excited! It was such a pleasure to work along side them. They propped us little white people up and let us witness, but they were so moving in the Holy Spirit. The WGO staff we met were so humble, so easy to be with. They really gave us a taste of what they do, but they were so gracious in everything. If you ever need a group to work alongside, I highly commend them to you.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Waiting to fly
And again, "Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and sing praises to him, all you peoples." [12]And again, Isaiah says, "The Root of Jesse will spring up, one who will arise to rule over the nations; the Gentiles will hope in him." [13] May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
It's 2am, I'm supposed to be getting up at 3:15 to get ready for my trip. I've had something wake me up every hour since going to bed. The worst was Gary being ill. The "plan" is to go eat, then the airport. We have a truck load of drugs in his work truck to take to the airport, he either has to drive OR we change it all to another truck. Won't Aaron love that?
I'm fixated on why this has been so hard (and strange bathrooms). Seriously, it's not like I think I'm going to change the world, but what I am seeing is even one life, one new soul, one encouraged soul, one person getting a vision of who this Jesus is. That is worth it. And it may be me that is changed the most.
Thank you guys for everything. I am blessed beyond measure with friends and loved ones. If nothing else were to occur, I have already seen God do in me a new work.
Pray for our families, our safety, the bathrooms, and whatever God brings to mind. I need some sleep, hopefully I won't drool or snore on the plane, but they should bring their noise reducing headphones like Dr. Schexnayder loaned me (he really is a nice guy-I'm almost not afraid of him now). There are a lot of political things going on in Honduras today, especially that the former leader that wanted to be dictator for life is coming in about the time we arrive. There will be rioting!!!! I don't think they want us to do that either. I remember signing the no smoking / no drinking clause, they probably have a "don't do anything else clause" like the "other duties as assigned at every job. Is the lack of sleep showing?????
I don't know whether to stay up or try to sleep. I'm thinking stay up.
The scripture above is my daily reading for today.
Love you,
Breta
It's 2am, I'm supposed to be getting up at 3:15 to get ready for my trip. I've had something wake me up every hour since going to bed. The worst was Gary being ill. The "plan" is to go eat, then the airport. We have a truck load of drugs in his work truck to take to the airport, he either has to drive OR we change it all to another truck. Won't Aaron love that?
I'm fixated on why this has been so hard (and strange bathrooms). Seriously, it's not like I think I'm going to change the world, but what I am seeing is even one life, one new soul, one encouraged soul, one person getting a vision of who this Jesus is. That is worth it. And it may be me that is changed the most.
Thank you guys for everything. I am blessed beyond measure with friends and loved ones. If nothing else were to occur, I have already seen God do in me a new work.
Pray for our families, our safety, the bathrooms, and whatever God brings to mind. I need some sleep, hopefully I won't drool or snore on the plane, but they should bring their noise reducing headphones like Dr. Schexnayder loaned me (he really is a nice guy-I'm almost not afraid of him now
I don't know whether to stay up or try to sleep. I'm thinking stay up.
The scripture above is my daily reading for today.
Love you,
Breta
Monday, April 18, 2011
Burdens
Some days at my work are rough. Bad things do happen to people, either on purpose or accidents. It was rough with adults, but there is something different when it happens to kids. I have a great group of friends, but these things can be overwhelming to share. And sometimes, even when you share, it doesn't feel right that you did.
We had a bad one yesterday. It's funny, because when you are in a certain role, the other staff even tell you they are sorry as they pass you in the halls. And no matter how many times you have seen things, particularly death, it is hard. Maybe that's what makes us who we are, I don't want to work with people that aren't moved when they deal with it. There is sometimes a clinical intrigue that happens, because you learn from every one of these, but still somewhere you know, this was a child, this was someone that people loved, and maybe the day before she was playing and, maybe she was a princess. But not today.
Today my scripture reading was about Jesus in the garden. And his disciples couldn't stay wake while he was praying for this cup to pass, to take away our sins. Today I'm burdened, and I'm needing some resolution, and so I'll pray for Him to help me with this cup. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be for work, and I know that this job has these moments. I may never understand what Jesus encountered in the garden and on the cross, but maybe, maybe, I have a glimpse.
We had a bad one yesterday. It's funny, because when you are in a certain role, the other staff even tell you they are sorry as they pass you in the halls. And no matter how many times you have seen things, particularly death, it is hard. Maybe that's what makes us who we are, I don't want to work with people that aren't moved when they deal with it. There is sometimes a clinical intrigue that happens, because you learn from every one of these, but still somewhere you know, this was a child, this was someone that people loved, and maybe the day before she was playing and, maybe she was a princess. But not today.
Today my scripture reading was about Jesus in the garden. And his disciples couldn't stay wake while he was praying for this cup to pass, to take away our sins. Today I'm burdened, and I'm needing some resolution, and so I'll pray for Him to help me with this cup. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be for work, and I know that this job has these moments. I may never understand what Jesus encountered in the garden and on the cross, but maybe, maybe, I have a glimpse.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Princesses
I have 3 sons. I didn't pay much attention to princesses when I was young except to say I liked the story about the Princess and the Pea. Then Sarah entered my life. She is my daughter in law and she has taught me all about princesses.
And now I work in a pediatric ER. I have come to love princesses. I love the little girls that come in and are wearing clothes with their favorites, or even better one Sunday at church a little one had her crown and magic wand. One of our doctors came to work and found, instead of her stethoscope, her daughter had packer her a wand for work. Tonight I was holding down a young girl while we placed an IV and drew her lab work. With tears in her eyes we discussed her favorite princesses to distract from what we had to do. I don't know how to describe these scenes. I hate to cause those moments of pain, but I love to send them to a world where they can be a princess for a few minutes and have magic to banish me.
Oh boys are great too, but there is nothing like the princess. My world has expanded with the knowledge of these things. Somedays I walk away amazed that they pay me for what I get out of my job.
Thank you Eloise and Sarah.
And now I work in a pediatric ER. I have come to love princesses. I love the little girls that come in and are wearing clothes with their favorites, or even better one Sunday at church a little one had her crown and magic wand. One of our doctors came to work and found, instead of her stethoscope, her daughter had packer her a wand for work. Tonight I was holding down a young girl while we placed an IV and drew her lab work. With tears in her eyes we discussed her favorite princesses to distract from what we had to do. I don't know how to describe these scenes. I hate to cause those moments of pain, but I love to send them to a world where they can be a princess for a few minutes and have magic to banish me.
Oh boys are great too, but there is nothing like the princess. My world has expanded with the knowledge of these things. Somedays I walk away amazed that they pay me for what I get out of my job.
Thank you Eloise and Sarah.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The Importance of Being
I love the be verbs. They are helpful, small, yet have so much meaning. The word "be" is defined as: to exist or live, to take place, happen, occur, to occupy a place or position, to continue to remain as before, to belong, attend, befall. The dictionary goes on, but this is sufficient.
Lately I've been thinking about how much I enjoy being around certain people. One of my co-workers and I were discussing what each of us had done the night before. Gary and I had been watching TV together and playing on our computers. Fairly quiet evening, not a lot of conversation, but just being together.
Lately I've realized that with many of my friends, when I see them I feel energized, more alive. We tend to relax when we are with people that we have those bonds with. I've been thinking about relationships that we've had over the years, some of our best friendships, and how I knew we were successful in them. I think it's the ones that sometimes there was more silence than not. That if they were tired and we were together they could just rest (some even fell asleep on the couch - in our defense, it was a great couch to sleep on). I was with a friend the other day that I don't see often, there wasn't a huge deep topic, it was in the seeing her, the hearing her voice, and just laughing together.
I was trying to define for someone what having a relationship with Jesus is. I think some people believe that you have to be in constant prayer, on your knees, talking constantly. I've come to realize, it's like being with my friends, it's an awareness, a constant presence, being in touch. Over the years my relationship with Him has changed. Just like many of my friendships, this has gotten more personal. Less me saying what my needs are and more about how to express who He is. And I honestly believe that I've come to a point that He is a friend as well as everything else He is.
It's that way with good friendships, it's not necessarily the conversation, it's the being together that is most enjoyable.
Lately I've been thinking about how much I enjoy being around certain people. One of my co-workers and I were discussing what each of us had done the night before. Gary and I had been watching TV together and playing on our computers. Fairly quiet evening, not a lot of conversation, but just being together.
Lately I've realized that with many of my friends, when I see them I feel energized, more alive. We tend to relax when we are with people that we have those bonds with. I've been thinking about relationships that we've had over the years, some of our best friendships, and how I knew we were successful in them. I think it's the ones that sometimes there was more silence than not. That if they were tired and we were together they could just rest (some even fell asleep on the couch - in our defense, it was a great couch to sleep on). I was with a friend the other day that I don't see often, there wasn't a huge deep topic, it was in the seeing her, the hearing her voice, and just laughing together.
I was trying to define for someone what having a relationship with Jesus is. I think some people believe that you have to be in constant prayer, on your knees, talking constantly. I've come to realize, it's like being with my friends, it's an awareness, a constant presence, being in touch. Over the years my relationship with Him has changed. Just like many of my friendships, this has gotten more personal. Less me saying what my needs are and more about how to express who He is. And I honestly believe that I've come to a point that He is a friend as well as everything else He is.
It's that way with good friendships, it's not necessarily the conversation, it's the being together that is most enjoyable.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Faith
Recently I read Exodus 16 about the Israelites and the manna. I will confess that I always think about Keith Green when I read the story: manna burgers, ba"manna" bread....it makes me laugh. This time, though, what struck me was the test of faith the people had. I imagine that in that large a group of people that there were varying levels of faith. We know God constantly was frustrated with them over the whining and complaining. I'm sure there were people that just obeyed, did exactly what God said, there were some that were constantly amazed at how it just was always right, and then some that were never going to be happy with things. Probably much like the modern church.
So I picture myself, walking out in the morning to gather the stuff. Unknown, what is it? How much do you gather? A day's worth is what Moses said. How much is that? What if you want a snack? So the first few days you are experimenting with it. Then routine sets in. I'm sure the Martha Stewarts of the camp had no lack of presentation and yummy manna, my poor family would have had the basics. And so it went. Day after day after day after day.
I've always said that I would prefer to work for someone rather than be self employed. That is due to the fact that I like to know what day my paycheck will come, that it will come, and that it will be good. I don't do well with "living by faith" in that area. I do recognize that God is my provider and not ACH or Baptist, but I know He placed me where He did. But now I'm in a situation where I need to walk in some faith. So I'm reaching out to my friends to help me with this.
Last year one of the doctors I admire asked me to go to Honduras with him on a mission trip. I wanted to, but the details couldn't be worked out in time. So I was thinking it would be this year maybe. A few months ago he told me he didn't have anyone to do the particular task he had wanted me for (sedations) so I thought that meant he didn't need me to go. I was kinda relieved actually. Whew, God doesn't want me to go. Ah, not so. He clarified that for me a week or so ago, still wants me to go, can use me, nurses are most helpful. So I'm actually getting excited again. Now for the hard part. Money.
The people that get these are people that I trust to pray or close friends. I'm being very open in saying that this is so hard for me. I need to write letters to people and ask them to support me on this trip, both in prayer and financially. I want to hear from the Lord in who to write and words to say. This is very difficult for me. In one way I want to just say, I can sign up for a lot of days at Baptist and make the money, or I can do this or that, and maybe I could but I don't think that is what I'm hearing the Lord say. I think He wants me to gather manna. And I have never really done this before. I've watched as God has provided for others, sent my kids on many a trip helping with finances, but never myself.
So I'm asking you, my friends, to pray for me. Pray that God will provide, that He will make me bold, that He will show me who to send letters to, and that I don't miss His guidance along the way. Then when I go that I will be able to glorify Him in all I do. Not many of you know that a large part of why I switched from adults to pediatrics was so that I could do mission work.
Thank you, first of all because I'm honored to have the friends I do, and second for praying for me. Some of you have known me for years and watched me struggle and grow, others are newer friends, who still watch me struggle and grow. I love each of you for who you are.
So I picture myself, walking out in the morning to gather the stuff. Unknown, what is it? How much do you gather? A day's worth is what Moses said. How much is that? What if you want a snack? So the first few days you are experimenting with it. Then routine sets in. I'm sure the Martha Stewarts of the camp had no lack of presentation and yummy manna, my poor family would have had the basics. And so it went. Day after day after day after day.
I've always said that I would prefer to work for someone rather than be self employed. That is due to the fact that I like to know what day my paycheck will come, that it will come, and that it will be good. I don't do well with "living by faith" in that area. I do recognize that God is my provider and not ACH or Baptist, but I know He placed me where He did. But now I'm in a situation where I need to walk in some faith. So I'm reaching out to my friends to help me with this.
Last year one of the doctors I admire asked me to go to Honduras with him on a mission trip. I wanted to, but the details couldn't be worked out in time. So I was thinking it would be this year maybe. A few months ago he told me he didn't have anyone to do the particular task he had wanted me for (sedations) so I thought that meant he didn't need me to go. I was kinda relieved actually. Whew, God doesn't want me to go. Ah, not so. He clarified that for me a week or so ago, still wants me to go, can use me, nurses are most helpful. So I'm actually getting excited again. Now for the hard part. Money.
The people that get these are people that I trust to pray or close friends. I'm being very open in saying that this is so hard for me. I need to write letters to people and ask them to support me on this trip, both in prayer and financially. I want to hear from the Lord in who to write and words to say. This is very difficult for me. In one way I want to just say, I can sign up for a lot of days at Baptist and make the money, or I can do this or that, and maybe I could but I don't think that is what I'm hearing the Lord say. I think He wants me to gather manna. And I have never really done this before. I've watched as God has provided for others, sent my kids on many a trip helping with finances, but never myself.
So I'm asking you, my friends, to pray for me. Pray that God will provide, that He will make me bold, that He will show me who to send letters to, and that I don't miss His guidance along the way. Then when I go that I will be able to glorify Him in all I do. Not many of you know that a large part of why I switched from adults to pediatrics was so that I could do mission work.
Thank you, first of all because I'm honored to have the friends I do, and second for praying for me. Some of you have known me for years and watched me struggle and grow, others are newer friends, who still watch me struggle and grow. I love each of you for who you are.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
Cat Sitting
People have sometimes commented that I have interesting things happen to me. On that note:
A friend of mine recently asked me to oversee the care of her three cats while she went on vacation. This was going to be a long trip, a couple of weeks I think (I never did figure out how many days). My job was to go in, get the mail, make sure the cats had food and water. The best part, only needed to drop in every two to three days. No problem!
These cats have a fancy set up: self cleaning litter boxes, two watering stations that swirl the water for them, and a feeding station that replaces their food as they eat it. And they are Siamese cats, so they hate everyone... no need to pet much. Well, one of them likes to be petted, the others pretty much hide. I went the first evening, stacked the mail, petted the friendly cat, refilled the water... almost had a guilty conscious over not petting the cat more but I was in a hurry (I've been told I should be Catholic with all my guilt issues).
Sunday I had plenty of time to pet the cat. Headed out, beautiful day, good day to be out alone with cats. Walk in the door and my first thought is that they have been bad little kitties. The mail was scattered and there was stuff on the floor. We used to housesit for some people that on the third day the dog would go nuts and tear stuff up to show his disapproval of being left with us. So I *blondly* went on in, blaming the cats for the cd's scattered over the floor until I saw the back door was open. Now, I think my pets are smart, but I'm pretty sure you need a thumb to open a door with a key. I did a quick walk through and confirmed that they had been broken into. I called my friend and made sure they wanted me to go ahead and call the police and do the report. Then I called 911....
Now let me explain something. I am a highly trained ER / Critical care nurse. I'm great if you are dying! I can run a code, shock you senseless, smack drugs into you.... I can make people jump at my command. You need to know this. So I call 911, cool headed, calm.... "This is 911" "yes, I would like to report I'm housesitting, well, not housesitting, more cat sitting and anyway I got here today and they have been broken into." "Okay, what is your address?" "oh crap, uh, I don't know, let me look... (walking PAST the stack of mail....) okay, it's 1234 uh, just a minute, let me look at the street sign, uh, hang on... okay, here it is." So they send an officer out.
I was impressed, kudo's to LRPD. He was very nice and efficient. We went through the house (keep in mind, most of the house I've never been in before so it was a first for me) and then he tried to get some fingerprints from where they came in. He talked to my friend and determined a few things that they took. And then he left me with the cats. The angry cats.... two angry, pissed off cats under the bed. I went all through the house and kept coming up with the magic number two, not three. The homeowner is calling asking me which two it is. I was trying to be so nice, but dang it, Siamese cats pretty much look alike and even more so if they are under a bed and you don't have a flashlight. Well, one got mad and ran into another room and under that bed (I did find a computer they missed, but it was broken). She kept telling me to get the treats and shake them, the kitty would come out for that. NOT. We finally determined that one cat was really gone. Lucky for me, they have a cat trap in the garage.
So now I get to figure out how to work a cat trap. I'm under the impression that most live animal traps have a back door to make it easy to open / load. Let me assure you this one has one, but it's fixed so it doesn't open. I load the trap with nice, juicy canned cat food, find a water bowl for it, and set it out. And reset the trapdoor, and reset the trap door, and.... finally success! I also pray that I am successful in catching a cat.
The next morning I run over, no cat. But one of the other cats shows himself and the other let me see enough to identify which two cats are in the house. Note: if you have three cats that look alike, don't expect the cat sitter to recognize them under the bed or by "do they have claws?" because if we are seeing claws that usually means your cat sitter is not happy.
That afternoon I went over and I did have a cat in the trap. Where I messed up was in not taking the trap in the house and setting the cat free inside, I mean, would they really notice? I digress, this was one angry cat and he was not afraid to let me know! But I did the right thing and let the cat go, resetting it just in case.
Sadly I never caught the right cat. Our friends are back and still looking, so if you see a lost Siamese kitty, let me know. If you need a cat sitter, well.... not sure I'm the one to call.
After I finished writing this, actually a couple of days after my friend called. They came home on Tuesday, this was Thursday afternoon. Her spouse was leaving to go to the store, saw pawprints on the car. Upon further searching he found the lost cat behind the dryer.
This cat, since I had discovered the break in on Sunday, had been hiding in the garage. I had been out there numerous times, with the police, looking for the cat trap, looking under the vehicle and all around several times.... the parents had been there and repaired the window and done laundry.... and the owners had been there shaking treats around trying to get the cat to come out of hiding (in case she was out there).... stupid cat. Owner said they had been worried that the cat was too dumb to find it's way home, seems the cat was too dumb to come in from the garage.
A friend of mine recently asked me to oversee the care of her three cats while she went on vacation. This was going to be a long trip, a couple of weeks I think (I never did figure out how many days). My job was to go in, get the mail, make sure the cats had food and water. The best part, only needed to drop in every two to three days. No problem!
These cats have a fancy set up: self cleaning litter boxes, two watering stations that swirl the water for them, and a feeding station that replaces their food as they eat it. And they are Siamese cats, so they hate everyone... no need to pet much. Well, one of them likes to be petted, the others pretty much hide. I went the first evening, stacked the mail, petted the friendly cat, refilled the water... almost had a guilty conscious over not petting the cat more but I was in a hurry (I've been told I should be Catholic with all my guilt issues).
Sunday I had plenty of time to pet the cat. Headed out, beautiful day, good day to be out alone with cats. Walk in the door and my first thought is that they have been bad little kitties. The mail was scattered and there was stuff on the floor. We used to housesit for some people that on the third day the dog would go nuts and tear stuff up to show his disapproval of being left with us. So I *blondly* went on in, blaming the cats for the cd's scattered over the floor until I saw the back door was open. Now, I think my pets are smart, but I'm pretty sure you need a thumb to open a door with a key. I did a quick walk through and confirmed that they had been broken into. I called my friend and made sure they wanted me to go ahead and call the police and do the report. Then I called 911....
Now let me explain something. I am a highly trained ER / Critical care nurse. I'm great if you are dying! I can run a code, shock you senseless, smack drugs into you.... I can make people jump at my command. You need to know this. So I call 911, cool headed, calm.... "This is 911" "yes, I would like to report I'm housesitting, well, not housesitting, more cat sitting and anyway I got here today and they have been broken into." "Okay, what is your address?" "oh crap, uh, I don't know, let me look... (walking PAST the stack of mail....) okay, it's 1234 uh, just a minute, let me look at the street sign, uh, hang on... okay, here it is." So they send an officer out.
I was impressed, kudo's to LRPD. He was very nice and efficient. We went through the house (keep in mind, most of the house I've never been in before so it was a first for me) and then he tried to get some fingerprints from where they came in. He talked to my friend and determined a few things that they took. And then he left me with the cats. The angry cats.... two angry, pissed off cats under the bed. I went all through the house and kept coming up with the magic number two, not three. The homeowner is calling asking me which two it is. I was trying to be so nice, but dang it, Siamese cats pretty much look alike and even more so if they are under a bed and you don't have a flashlight. Well, one got mad and ran into another room and under that bed (I did find a computer they missed, but it was broken). She kept telling me to get the treats and shake them, the kitty would come out for that. NOT. We finally determined that one cat was really gone. Lucky for me, they have a cat trap in the garage.
So now I get to figure out how to work a cat trap. I'm under the impression that most live animal traps have a back door to make it easy to open / load. Let me assure you this one has one, but it's fixed so it doesn't open. I load the trap with nice, juicy canned cat food, find a water bowl for it, and set it out. And reset the trapdoor, and reset the trap door, and.... finally success! I also pray that I am successful in catching a cat.
The next morning I run over, no cat. But one of the other cats shows himself and the other let me see enough to identify which two cats are in the house. Note: if you have three cats that look alike, don't expect the cat sitter to recognize them under the bed or by "do they have claws?" because if we are seeing claws that usually means your cat sitter is not happy.
That afternoon I went over and I did have a cat in the trap. Where I messed up was in not taking the trap in the house and setting the cat free inside, I mean, would they really notice? I digress, this was one angry cat and he was not afraid to let me know! But I did the right thing and let the cat go, resetting it just in case.
Sadly I never caught the right cat. Our friends are back and still looking, so if you see a lost Siamese kitty, let me know. If you need a cat sitter, well.... not sure I'm the one to call.
After I finished writing this, actually a couple of days after my friend called. They came home on Tuesday, this was Thursday afternoon. Her spouse was leaving to go to the store, saw pawprints on the car. Upon further searching he found the lost cat behind the dryer.
This cat, since I had discovered the break in on Sunday, had been hiding in the garage. I had been out there numerous times, with the police, looking for the cat trap, looking under the vehicle and all around several times.... the parents had been there and repaired the window and done laundry.... and the owners had been there shaking treats around trying to get the cat to come out of hiding (in case she was out there).... stupid cat. Owner said they had been worried that the cat was too dumb to find it's way home, seems the cat was too dumb to come in from the garage.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Thoughts on Christmas
Christmas is my favourite time of the year.... I love everything (except the traffic) about it. I do wish I were wealthier so I could give more but I'm not, so, well. Here are some random thoughts, some were thoughts I had and have heard sermons on them recently. Most of what I share could hardly be called amazingly original, but they are things that touch me.
I'm stunned by the baby king. I love to hold babies. They are so incredible, they are weak and they are strong. They smell good, they fascinate me. What great God would chose to send His son as a baby, who would he pick to trust with this. Who was Mary? I mean, she had to be special to be chosen, but then, couldn't be too special. Meek, mild, trusting. What about Joseph? Even before the angel came he was trying to do the right thing. I'm sure he was overwhelmed. Was it an arranged marriage? Did he love her? Was she beautiful, what drew him to her?
Imagine Jesus' siblings? You think your parents favor your older siblings, imagine trying to follow in Jesus' footsteps? "Jesus didn't act like that!" "Why can't you be more like Jesus?" LOL, what was the toddler Jesus like? Were there the terrible two's, you would think without a sin nature that would be the terrific two's. I could go on and on about this one, just thinking about my own children and their developmental milestones and wondering what it would have been for Mary.
The angel visits. I really can't imagine. I believe there has been an angel in my house when my mom was ill. I didn't see it, my dad did. I believe they are around. But I can't imagine what Mary saw. And we have the benefit of reading the Bible on a regular basis and knowing that angels appeared throughout, but they did not have that. Just faith. Faith. Would I have that? To hear that I was about to have a baby and name him Jesus?
The shepherds. Again, uneducated more than likely, but that doesn't refer to their character. Because they too had the faith to go see. They were chosen. The king came to earth, born in a manger, for us. The shepherds, the poor, the weak, the down trodden. Yes, there were wise men, who were truly wise, because the heard the voice of God to not return to Herod. They brought gifts. I'm sure that Mary "pondered" these things over the years: angel visits, shepherds, wise men, being on the run." Her child survived but many did not because of Herod. We could make a case, better one baby die than many, but then we would lose our Lord. Much grieving over this baby.
I love the children at Christmas.... magical thinking about Santa, reindeer, and what they understand of Jesus. We create the greed, not the kids. We create unreal expectations for ourselves. This year we did things much simpler around the house and it was less stressful for me. The most squealed over gifts were bubble wrap and Toy Story sunglasses but the others were well appreciated. It's fun to give. It's fun to receive. The only ones that frustrate me are when we throw out all these presents, everyone opening at once and no one really enjoying what is going on.
This morning at church we did Lessons in Carols, scripture readings and songs. It was great. I had seen Twisted Sister do Oh Come All Ye Faithful last night.... even the rocks cry out was all I could think of.
Merry Christmas.... may you find joy in all those around you and extend the love of God to others. May we have the faith displayed by those in the story and worship the baby King. And may be always remember what was done for us.
Breta
I'm stunned by the baby king. I love to hold babies. They are so incredible, they are weak and they are strong. They smell good, they fascinate me. What great God would chose to send His son as a baby, who would he pick to trust with this. Who was Mary? I mean, she had to be special to be chosen, but then, couldn't be too special. Meek, mild, trusting. What about Joseph? Even before the angel came he was trying to do the right thing. I'm sure he was overwhelmed. Was it an arranged marriage? Did he love her? Was she beautiful, what drew him to her?
Imagine Jesus' siblings? You think your parents favor your older siblings, imagine trying to follow in Jesus' footsteps? "Jesus didn't act like that!" "Why can't you be more like Jesus?" LOL, what was the toddler Jesus like? Were there the terrible two's, you would think without a sin nature that would be the terrific two's. I could go on and on about this one, just thinking about my own children and their developmental milestones and wondering what it would have been for Mary.
The angel visits. I really can't imagine. I believe there has been an angel in my house when my mom was ill. I didn't see it, my dad did. I believe they are around. But I can't imagine what Mary saw. And we have the benefit of reading the Bible on a regular basis and knowing that angels appeared throughout, but they did not have that. Just faith. Faith. Would I have that? To hear that I was about to have a baby and name him Jesus?
The shepherds. Again, uneducated more than likely, but that doesn't refer to their character. Because they too had the faith to go see. They were chosen. The king came to earth, born in a manger, for us. The shepherds, the poor, the weak, the down trodden. Yes, there were wise men, who were truly wise, because the heard the voice of God to not return to Herod. They brought gifts. I'm sure that Mary "pondered" these things over the years: angel visits, shepherds, wise men, being on the run." Her child survived but many did not because of Herod. We could make a case, better one baby die than many, but then we would lose our Lord. Much grieving over this baby.
I love the children at Christmas.... magical thinking about Santa, reindeer, and what they understand of Jesus. We create the greed, not the kids. We create unreal expectations for ourselves. This year we did things much simpler around the house and it was less stressful for me. The most squealed over gifts were bubble wrap and Toy Story sunglasses but the others were well appreciated. It's fun to give. It's fun to receive. The only ones that frustrate me are when we throw out all these presents, everyone opening at once and no one really enjoying what is going on.
This morning at church we did Lessons in Carols, scripture readings and songs. It was great. I had seen Twisted Sister do Oh Come All Ye Faithful last night.... even the rocks cry out was all I could think of.
Merry Christmas.... may you find joy in all those around you and extend the love of God to others. May we have the faith displayed by those in the story and worship the baby King. And may be always remember what was done for us.
Breta
Wednesday, December 08, 2010
Fish Tanks
This may shock a few of you, but I kill things. Not people, but a case could be made for that as well. No, I kill plants and fish. A lot of them. I now have an empty tank in my living room. Well, not exactly empty, it has water and rocks, just no fish. Seemed pointless after the last one died.
Today I went to a salt water fish store. It was incredible. Not even just the fish, the rocks are alive. The tanks were filled with beautiful things, all waving at me. I could have stayed for a very long time, but I had to be somewhere.
I guess, yet again, I was stunned with the beauty of creation. What creator does such detail. I mean, this stuff is under water, who cares? Who was there to see for so many thousands of years? He could have gotten away with just sand, but no, he did a whole thing just for under the water. Not just a few things either, and the rocks are crawling with creatures. How incredibly awesome it was.
Of course, this is the creator that brought us a saviour in the form of a baby. He didn't have to do that either.
What love.
In awe,
Breta
Today I went to a salt water fish store. It was incredible. Not even just the fish, the rocks are alive. The tanks were filled with beautiful things, all waving at me. I could have stayed for a very long time, but I had to be somewhere.
I guess, yet again, I was stunned with the beauty of creation. What creator does such detail. I mean, this stuff is under water, who cares? Who was there to see for so many thousands of years? He could have gotten away with just sand, but no, he did a whole thing just for under the water. Not just a few things either, and the rocks are crawling with creatures. How incredibly awesome it was.
Of course, this is the creator that brought us a saviour in the form of a baby. He didn't have to do that either.
What love.
In awe,
Breta
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Devotions for the Rest of Us #10
Almighty and everlasting God, increase in us the gifts of faith, hope, and charity; and, that we may obtain what you promise, make us love what you command; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
This is the collect this week and it seems so appropriate for what I need to hear. Increase the gifts of faith, hope and charity. I have had such a lack of faith over the last few weeks and have found myself all out of sorts, which of course leads to a lack of hope and sadly, if you asked a few of my friends and patients, a lack of charity.
Here's the thing, my job cut back on how they pay us for extra work. My boat got rocked. Okay, there I said it. To those that don't have a job or work for less than I do, I'm so sorry I whined. Because I shouldn't. I have a wonderful job and God has richly blessed me. What is really sad though is how I found myself reacting. "I'm not going to blah blah blah." Really, REALLY!!!! Because truth be told I like what I do, I like where I work, and I want to excel at what I do. So this attitude problem needs to go away.
It's a lack of faith. God has always provided. Okay, I'm not a trust fund kid, but I honestly don't think I would do that well. I would like to be less concerned about paying our bills but God has been more than faithful. Where does this come from?
Then that must also extend beyond just money, because it's not about money. It's about contentment in where God has placed me. My Lord, who loves me more than I will ever understand, has put me where I am, to interact with the people I do for a reason. To perfect me. To round off those edges. To build my faith. To humble me. Sometimes to call me out when I need it. One new person there, in his quietness, has made me rethink many of my words and actions. I'm still so full of myself, and myself is not who I long to be.
My question to those of you who have been so faithful to read these and respond is to please tell me how you overcome these times of lack of faith. Please be real about your answers, in that I know I'm not the only one that does this. Is it reading more in the word, is it in worship (which for me is where I really see a difference), what is it that keeps you going? I have really appreciated all the responses I've had to this, because I've come to find out I'm not the only one that feels like a failure in the kingdom. (Not calling you guys losers, just me, but it does help to know that others struggle in their walk and it's not just me).
And please know, it really wasn't about the money. I think what happens is I "have it all figured out." I'm going to do this, work this much, then I'll do this...." and sometimes God yanks my chain to remind me that He is above my plans. Many times I think God is much more interested in our reaction than our action.
Breta
This is the collect this week and it seems so appropriate for what I need to hear. Increase the gifts of faith, hope and charity. I have had such a lack of faith over the last few weeks and have found myself all out of sorts, which of course leads to a lack of hope and sadly, if you asked a few of my friends and patients, a lack of charity.
Here's the thing, my job cut back on how they pay us for extra work. My boat got rocked. Okay, there I said it. To those that don't have a job or work for less than I do, I'm so sorry I whined. Because I shouldn't. I have a wonderful job and God has richly blessed me. What is really sad though is how I found myself reacting. "I'm not going to blah blah blah." Really, REALLY!!!! Because truth be told I like what I do, I like where I work, and I want to excel at what I do. So this attitude problem needs to go away.
It's a lack of faith. God has always provided. Okay, I'm not a trust fund kid, but I honestly don't think I would do that well. I would like to be less concerned about paying our bills but God has been more than faithful. Where does this come from?
Then that must also extend beyond just money, because it's not about money. It's about contentment in where God has placed me. My Lord, who loves me more than I will ever understand, has put me where I am, to interact with the people I do for a reason. To perfect me. To round off those edges. To build my faith. To humble me. Sometimes to call me out when I need it. One new person there, in his quietness, has made me rethink many of my words and actions. I'm still so full of myself, and myself is not who I long to be.
My question to those of you who have been so faithful to read these and respond is to please tell me how you overcome these times of lack of faith. Please be real about your answers, in that I know I'm not the only one that does this. Is it reading more in the word, is it in worship (which for me is where I really see a difference), what is it that keeps you going? I have really appreciated all the responses I've had to this, because I've come to find out I'm not the only one that feels like a failure in the kingdom. (Not calling you guys losers, just me, but it does help to know that others struggle in their walk and it's not just me).
And please know, it really wasn't about the money. I think what happens is I "have it all figured out." I'm going to do this, work this much, then I'll do this...." and sometimes God yanks my chain to remind me that He is above my plans. Many times I think God is much more interested in our reaction than our action.
Breta
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Devotions for the Rest of Us #9
This last week has been overwhelming. Most of you know that my middle son married. It's probably split on how many knew about the funeral I attended on Friday. Let me just tell you some of the things that have impressed me.
First the funeral. Mary Sample was not a close friend of mine, she was my hero. Mary was someone I've looked up to for over 20 years. She never knew that. This isn't going to be one of those "wish I had told her" although I kinda wish I had. Mary was a leader in the home school movement here in Arkansas. Years ago I contacted her for various reasons, I don't remember, and she helped me. But back then very few people home schooled. She was a rock that I could call. It was that she was there, she didn't mind, she was kind. Seems so simple. Then a few years ago we sent our youngest son to Academy, and there was Mary. She befriended him. He came home at different times and mentioned her. If you have a son this may make more sense, my boys don't speak often. And then at his graduation she spent a lot of time talking to me durning practice and then the day of. I'm not really shy, more afraid of people that I know are more faithful than I am. So that someone spent time with me, treated me as if I had done this as well as they had (NOT), well. It was neat. And then Mary started coming to the church we did. I fell in love with her and her family in a new way. Gary got to spend some time with Stephen, I saw the kids.
Mary was called home. There is no other words for it. I won't do the details, but drawing from my medical background I was touched that God did it so quickly for her. For the family, I can't imagine. But the news spread quickly through the home school and church community.
You won't see the tears as I write this, but they are there just remembering. For this service was like no other I've ever seen. There was no "poor Mary" or even the basic details of her life, it was truly a celebration of life and of who she was and what she loved. I don't know how many people our church holds, I've been told there were 700+ people there, I believe it. The amazing thing was that thirty minutes before the service started after the worship leaders finished practicing the songs, they were just playing, and the people all began to worship. No one said to do this, but they began. The move of the Spirit was so strong. There were waves. Now in the world they would say it was an emotional movement, like at a concert or something of that line. No, it was not. When the ministers came to start, it was almost as if they were late. The whole body was in unison. I really can not describe what was happening. The service was wonderful, Matt had a wonderful word about who Mary was, and it seems I was not the only one that saw Jesus in her, we all did. The service pointed us back to Him. I don't know how the family felt about it, I can't imagine, but for all I've spoken with that were there we are all in agreement, how better a tribute to your life than so many people that come to say good bye turn to Jesus and worship Him. Our grief was comforted, not taken away, but there was real comfort. And we thanked Him for Mary. And we remembered her.
I left that service and went to a bridal luncheon for my soon to be daughter in law. Again, thank you Natalie for understanding my need to be at Mary's service. And so the wedding celebrations began. That night a rehearsal dinner and the next day the wedding. It was wonderful, and no I don't have pictures yet. But Stephen's pastor shared a gospel presentation about why we were there, not for the wedding, but because of Jesus. Then the ceremony began and Bobby basically did it again. Their love was apparent but Jesus was predominate.
As Christians, many times we go through the motions, but our "culture" is special. Both of these are emotional experiences, but they are at the essence of our life. Who we are. What we are about. What is our life without Christ. I have some friends that can't believe that I really think that my children were not sexually active before marriage, they think I am naive, maybe I am, but I also know what they believe. My friends openly laughed at me. I'm okay with that. You see, I'm not the one they are laughing at. I know that Stephen and Natalie have chosen to follow the Lord and that their lives will honor Him. And I know that while I feel so insignificant in the universe, that maybe not to the extent that Mary did, I've touched someone somewhere. The thing that has really touched me though is how these two totally different ceremonies both had the same message. I hope I'm communicating this well, but we are different from the world. We really are. Even when we are with them, we are different.
So many blessings to Stephen and Natalie and thank you Mary. I worshipped Jesus Friday and Saturday in your examples, in your joy and in your example. Thank you God my Father, Jesus my brother and Holy Spirit my helper for all you are doing in the earth and in me.
First the funeral. Mary Sample was not a close friend of mine, she was my hero. Mary was someone I've looked up to for over 20 years. She never knew that. This isn't going to be one of those "wish I had told her" although I kinda wish I had. Mary was a leader in the home school movement here in Arkansas. Years ago I contacted her for various reasons, I don't remember, and she helped me. But back then very few people home schooled. She was a rock that I could call. It was that she was there, she didn't mind, she was kind. Seems so simple. Then a few years ago we sent our youngest son to Academy, and there was Mary. She befriended him. He came home at different times and mentioned her. If you have a son this may make more sense, my boys don't speak often. And then at his graduation she spent a lot of time talking to me durning practice and then the day of. I'm not really shy, more afraid of people that I know are more faithful than I am. So that someone spent time with me, treated me as if I had done this as well as they had (NOT), well. It was neat. And then Mary started coming to the church we did. I fell in love with her and her family in a new way. Gary got to spend some time with Stephen, I saw the kids.
Mary was called home. There is no other words for it. I won't do the details, but drawing from my medical background I was touched that God did it so quickly for her. For the family, I can't imagine. But the news spread quickly through the home school and church community.
You won't see the tears as I write this, but they are there just remembering. For this service was like no other I've ever seen. There was no "poor Mary" or even the basic details of her life, it was truly a celebration of life and of who she was and what she loved. I don't know how many people our church holds, I've been told there were 700+ people there, I believe it. The amazing thing was that thirty minutes before the service started after the worship leaders finished practicing the songs, they were just playing, and the people all began to worship. No one said to do this, but they began. The move of the Spirit was so strong. There were waves. Now in the world they would say it was an emotional movement, like at a concert or something of that line. No, it was not. When the ministers came to start, it was almost as if they were late. The whole body was in unison. I really can not describe what was happening. The service was wonderful, Matt had a wonderful word about who Mary was, and it seems I was not the only one that saw Jesus in her, we all did. The service pointed us back to Him. I don't know how the family felt about it, I can't imagine, but for all I've spoken with that were there we are all in agreement, how better a tribute to your life than so many people that come to say good bye turn to Jesus and worship Him. Our grief was comforted, not taken away, but there was real comfort. And we thanked Him for Mary. And we remembered her.
I left that service and went to a bridal luncheon for my soon to be daughter in law. Again, thank you Natalie for understanding my need to be at Mary's service. And so the wedding celebrations began. That night a rehearsal dinner and the next day the wedding. It was wonderful, and no I don't have pictures yet. But Stephen's pastor shared a gospel presentation about why we were there, not for the wedding, but because of Jesus. Then the ceremony began and Bobby basically did it again. Their love was apparent but Jesus was predominate.
As Christians, many times we go through the motions, but our "culture" is special. Both of these are emotional experiences, but they are at the essence of our life. Who we are. What we are about. What is our life without Christ. I have some friends that can't believe that I really think that my children were not sexually active before marriage, they think I am naive, maybe I am, but I also know what they believe. My friends openly laughed at me. I'm okay with that. You see, I'm not the one they are laughing at. I know that Stephen and Natalie have chosen to follow the Lord and that their lives will honor Him. And I know that while I feel so insignificant in the universe, that maybe not to the extent that Mary did, I've touched someone somewhere. The thing that has really touched me though is how these two totally different ceremonies both had the same message. I hope I'm communicating this well, but we are different from the world. We really are. Even when we are with them, we are different.
So many blessings to Stephen and Natalie and thank you Mary. I worshipped Jesus Friday and Saturday in your examples, in your joy and in your example. Thank you God my Father, Jesus my brother and Holy Spirit my helper for all you are doing in the earth and in me.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Devotions for the Rest of Us #8
A blogger friend recently wrote about verbal diarrhea. Basically she finds herself getting into trouble because she says more than is required of her. Lately she has offended people because she would go for the quick joke and then realize too late that it was not in the best of taste.
Boy, can I relate. In the last year I have become aware of how much we talk and say nothing of consequence. I find myself at work sitting on a trash can away from the nurses station because of the noise level and endless chatter. Don't get me wrong, I like to talk. Too much. And I will be more than happy to tell you the latest gossip, or about my kids, or my cat, or whatever. But I find myself disgusted with what I say, then you know, you have to repent from all that, and I'm tired of doing it.
Recently we had a guest speaker at our church, one thing that he talked about was sitting quietly before the Lord. Even in church. Wow. Have you ever tried to do that? I hear a lot of people talk about being ADD (myself included) and how it's hard to just sit still. So today during the worship service I tried to just sit and hear the Lord. And I sat. Then I refocused. Then I thought about what I had to do today, then I refocused. Then I thought about this week, then I refocused. Then I thought about how hard it was to do that. Just to sit. Just to think about the Lord. Not anything in particular, but was He saying anything to me? Would I listen if He did?
Remember the story of Moses in the cave, waiting for the glory of the Lord to pass by? The storm came, the winds, the rain, and God wasn't in any of it. It was the quiet. And if that were me and not Moses, I would have missed it while I was busy playing Mahjong or twilling my hair or something.
I'm sure I'm not the only one. It is torture for me when I try to have a "quiet" time, cause I can't focus. This morning I realized that as much as I dislike exercise, besides exercising my body, I need to exercise my mind. Build up my endurance, my abilities to train my mind to be still. I'll never grow in the Lord no matter how much I read, how much I know, if I can't hear His instructions. How can I hear Him tell me where to go, who to speak to, who to love, if I'm not in tune with the basic of how to hear Him.
Come to the Quiet. Come and sit at His feet. Come and listen. Come and receive. Come... and be quiet.
Boy, can I relate. In the last year I have become aware of how much we talk and say nothing of consequence. I find myself at work sitting on a trash can away from the nurses station because of the noise level and endless chatter. Don't get me wrong, I like to talk. Too much. And I will be more than happy to tell you the latest gossip, or about my kids, or my cat, or whatever. But I find myself disgusted with what I say, then you know, you have to repent from all that, and I'm tired of doing it.
Recently we had a guest speaker at our church, one thing that he talked about was sitting quietly before the Lord. Even in church. Wow. Have you ever tried to do that? I hear a lot of people talk about being ADD (myself included) and how it's hard to just sit still. So today during the worship service I tried to just sit and hear the Lord. And I sat. Then I refocused. Then I thought about what I had to do today, then I refocused. Then I thought about this week, then I refocused. Then I thought about how hard it was to do that. Just to sit. Just to think about the Lord. Not anything in particular, but was He saying anything to me? Would I listen if He did?
Remember the story of Moses in the cave, waiting for the glory of the Lord to pass by? The storm came, the winds, the rain, and God wasn't in any of it. It was the quiet. And if that were me and not Moses, I would have missed it while I was busy playing Mahjong or twilling my hair or something.
I'm sure I'm not the only one. It is torture for me when I try to have a "quiet" time, cause I can't focus. This morning I realized that as much as I dislike exercise, besides exercising my body, I need to exercise my mind. Build up my endurance, my abilities to train my mind to be still. I'll never grow in the Lord no matter how much I read, how much I know, if I can't hear His instructions. How can I hear Him tell me where to go, who to speak to, who to love, if I'm not in tune with the basic of how to hear Him.
Come to the Quiet. Come and sit at His feet. Come and listen. Come and receive. Come... and be quiet.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Apology Accepted
You know, I've worked a lot of code Blue's, saved some people, some not. I remember more of the ones that didn't make it than the ones I did. It's very similar to how when I make a mistake or really blow it, that I rehearse that over and over and forget the many times I did well.
Today was one of those days. I often say that when we do confession on Sunday, the part that really gets me is that whole "love your neighbor as yourself." I failed. Wait, I didn't fail, I was a horrible person that I can't defend, can't rationalize, and will have a much harder time forgiving myself than the lady I offended.
A mother brought her child in for pain management. The child was on pallative care (hospice) and going to die from her cancer. My goal was to essentially rush in, get IV access and free this child of pain. That is not what happened. The mom told me the child wouldn't let me do it, she wanted one of the onocology nurses to come and do it. What I heard through my pride was "you're not good enough, we don't trust you, blah blah blah" and my wounded pride said "screw it." I made the comment, "well, I'll just chart that you refused to have me access the port." Technically that was correct. When I was, again, my wounded pride, telling the other nurse on my team I made it all about the mom not trusting us, the ER nurses, to treat her child. The other nurses said she would take the patient and she did.
So a few minutes later I went to eat lunch. And as I waited to get my lunch all I could think about was: what if that was my child? She knows her child, she knows her child has trust issues. And here her child is sick, in horrible pain, and the nurse, someone trained to understand, is, well, less than kind. I could hardly eat.
I went back to the room, thinking, well, I'll talk to the mom, I'll tell her how sorry I am, and quietly leave the room. I'm thinking just me and the mom. Nope, several other people are in there, listening to me tell the mom how sorry I am for being unkind to her. And then she said it, I'm still stunned, cause I'm not sure I could do it. "I forgive you."
I didn't expect anything from her, in fact, I would have told me several things.... but through her tears she forgave me.
I know as I ask forgiveness from the Lord I will get it, but it will take me a long time to overcome this. But I hope that as much was given to me I'll forgive much more of others. I hope I never forget this lesson from a mom to reach over her dying child to touch the one that should have been helping her. Pray for that mom, her child will be with the Lord soon if not already. That is the best thing I can do for her, is to pray that God will be more gracious than she has been.
Today was one of those days. I often say that when we do confession on Sunday, the part that really gets me is that whole "love your neighbor as yourself." I failed. Wait, I didn't fail, I was a horrible person that I can't defend, can't rationalize, and will have a much harder time forgiving myself than the lady I offended.
A mother brought her child in for pain management. The child was on pallative care (hospice) and going to die from her cancer. My goal was to essentially rush in, get IV access and free this child of pain. That is not what happened. The mom told me the child wouldn't let me do it, she wanted one of the onocology nurses to come and do it. What I heard through my pride was "you're not good enough, we don't trust you, blah blah blah" and my wounded pride said "screw it." I made the comment, "well, I'll just chart that you refused to have me access the port." Technically that was correct. When I was, again, my wounded pride, telling the other nurse on my team I made it all about the mom not trusting us, the ER nurses, to treat her child. The other nurses said she would take the patient and she did.
So a few minutes later I went to eat lunch. And as I waited to get my lunch all I could think about was: what if that was my child? She knows her child, she knows her child has trust issues. And here her child is sick, in horrible pain, and the nurse, someone trained to understand, is, well, less than kind. I could hardly eat.
I went back to the room, thinking, well, I'll talk to the mom, I'll tell her how sorry I am, and quietly leave the room. I'm thinking just me and the mom. Nope, several other people are in there, listening to me tell the mom how sorry I am for being unkind to her. And then she said it, I'm still stunned, cause I'm not sure I could do it. "I forgive you."
I didn't expect anything from her, in fact, I would have told me several things.... but through her tears she forgave me.
I know as I ask forgiveness from the Lord I will get it, but it will take me a long time to overcome this. But I hope that as much was given to me I'll forgive much more of others. I hope I never forget this lesson from a mom to reach over her dying child to touch the one that should have been helping her. Pray for that mom, her child will be with the Lord soon if not already. That is the best thing I can do for her, is to pray that God will be more gracious than she has been.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Devotions for the Rest of Us #7
This is a letter I wrote to a friend one day this week when I was struggling with envy. I think most of you can relate a little, hopefully for your sake not to much.
So I need to confess something. It's horrible.
I used to have this friend, she is now a facebook friend. But not a good friend. She is someone that was from my past. Now here is the thing. This girl is dumb, I don't mean a little, I mean really stupid. I'm not being mean, it's the truth. I even tried to help her once with getting a HS diploma, she's dumb.
She divorced her husband, while he was in prison (I believe he was innocent of the actual charge, but that is another issue) and sold all his possessions. She's mean and cruel. Never meet anyone like her. She says she's changed, I'm afraid to have much to do with her, but allowed her to be a FB friend.
She is now married and has horses. I can't stand it. She posted pictures of her "riding" her horse (she was being led around). I can not tell you how much envy came into my heart. You can have the big house, nice cars, whatever, but this dumb as a brick, mean chick has horses. I love the smell of them, the touch of them, being blown on by their noses as they nozzle you. I love the feel of riding, the power of the muscles under you, swimming with them, running with them.... how does she get them????? And not have a clue what she has.
So there, I'm going to get in the shower, pray for forgiveness for coveting my "neighbors" horse and remember that I gave up those dreams for the kingdom of God. Yes, I'll jump right on that. Working on it.
Sigh.
I don't like mean people. Mean people suck. And it seems some mean people get horses. I won't pray she gets bucked off. Nope, I won't do it. Or stomped on. Nope, I won't do it.
That was the end of the letter. It sounds so silly, a horse, but dreams that we give up in order to follow the Lord, those are real. No, the Lord didn't say, "you can't have horses." What did happen is that we had priorities in our life, raising godly children, our life in the church, all those things. It meant that we gave up certain things that maybe we would have enjoyed. Myself, I've often dreamed of having a Holideck like they did on Star Trek, where I could just summon up a good ride or vacation without all the hassle.
But then I remember, "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." And then I'm okay with what I have.
So I need to confess something. It's horrible.
I used to have this friend, she is now a facebook friend. But not a good friend. She is someone that was from my past. Now here is the thing. This girl is dumb, I don't mean a little, I mean really stupid. I'm not being mean, it's the truth. I even tried to help her once with getting a HS diploma, she's dumb.
She divorced her husband, while he was in prison (I believe he was innocent of the actual charge, but that is another issue) and sold all his possessions. She's mean and cruel. Never meet anyone like her. She says she's changed, I'm afraid to have much to do with her, but allowed her to be a FB friend.
She is now married and has horses. I can't stand it. She posted pictures of her "riding" her horse (she was being led around). I can not tell you how much envy came into my heart. You can have the big house, nice cars, whatever, but this dumb as a brick, mean chick has horses. I love the smell of them, the touch of them, being blown on by their noses as they nozzle you. I love the feel of riding, the power of the muscles under you, swimming with them, running with them.... how does she get them????? And not have a clue what she has.
So there, I'm going to get in the shower, pray for forgiveness for coveting my "neighbors" horse and remember that I gave up those dreams for the kingdom of God. Yes, I'll jump right on that. Working on it.
Sigh.
I don't like mean people. Mean people suck. And it seems some mean people get horses. I won't pray she gets bucked off. Nope, I won't do it. Or stomped on. Nope, I won't do it.
That was the end of the letter. It sounds so silly, a horse, but dreams that we give up in order to follow the Lord, those are real. No, the Lord didn't say, "you can't have horses." What did happen is that we had priorities in our life, raising godly children, our life in the church, all those things. It meant that we gave up certain things that maybe we would have enjoyed. Myself, I've often dreamed of having a Holideck like they did on Star Trek, where I could just summon up a good ride or vacation without all the hassle.
But then I remember, "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." And then I'm okay with what I have.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Devotions for the Rest of Us #6
Confession: a formal admission of one's sins with repentance and desire of absolution
In our weekly confession at church we confess to several things: Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truely sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.
Lately I've been able to focus on the better part: that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Maybe better part isn't the right term, but I'm not drowning in my sin currently. Here's the thing, are we really giving up so much in not murdering, not stealing, not committing adultery? What about not crawling home drunk hugging the toilet? Or having to remember what lie we told so that we can keep them straight? Do I need to go on? I can, but you probably can fill in the blanks.
Focusing on "that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways." Wow, what does that mean? I've often talked about being kind, how about not sharing everything I know about people. How about avoiding the gossip? How about speaking to those that are stretching me (and by the way, not doing so good with that one - I still think they are stealing my overtime - and thus struggling with being nice to them). But I'm finding myself seeking how to "delight in your will." I'm asking the Lord to show me ways to reach out to those around me and minister to them. One thing is by keeping their confidence. Another is to be non-judgmental when they do share. When some of the young mothers ask me questions about how did my sons turn out so well, I direct them to the Lord, not to any great wisdom I had. Focusing on Him, not me. This is where I want to walk, where I want my mind to dwell. So this is my confession: not what my past is, but what my now is.
In our weekly confession at church we confess to several things: Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truely sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.
Lately I've been able to focus on the better part: that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Maybe better part isn't the right term, but I'm not drowning in my sin currently. Here's the thing, are we really giving up so much in not murdering, not stealing, not committing adultery? What about not crawling home drunk hugging the toilet? Or having to remember what lie we told so that we can keep them straight? Do I need to go on? I can, but you probably can fill in the blanks.
Focusing on "that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways." Wow, what does that mean? I've often talked about being kind, how about not sharing everything I know about people. How about avoiding the gossip? How about speaking to those that are stretching me (and by the way, not doing so good with that one - I still think they are stealing my overtime - and thus struggling with being nice to them). But I'm finding myself seeking how to "delight in your will." I'm asking the Lord to show me ways to reach out to those around me and minister to them. One thing is by keeping their confidence. Another is to be non-judgmental when they do share. When some of the young mothers ask me questions about how did my sons turn out so well, I direct them to the Lord, not to any great wisdom I had. Focusing on Him, not me. This is where I want to walk, where I want my mind to dwell. So this is my confession: not what my past is, but what my now is.
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