“From an infant into an adult…”

Last night a dear friend asked me to accompany her to the local hospital’s NICU ward.  For those of you who have never been to one, or know what that acronym stands for, it is a little slice of heaven where gifted doctors and nurses care for those least able to care for themselves, our newborns and preemies.  (Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit). My friend and her husband are foster parents and we were visiting with the newborn they will soon be bringing home.  She was there to outfit him with a car seat small enough to hold and protect him, and attend a class for parents on germs.  I opted out of the class and made my way to the waiting area or, “family room,” to wait for her to finish the class.  While in the “family room” reading the newspaper, I met a man who was there from South Carolina, visiting his newborn twin granddaughters.  The babies each weighed a pound.  He shared photos of them with me, showing him holding one of the girls.  She completely fit in the palm of his hand.  I cried.  I cried for the miracle of that photo.  When I was birthing my babies, and loosing so many of them, a baby that size would not have survived.  Science has changed so much in the past 30 years, especially in the care of premature babies.

When we were finally able to go and actually see the baby, we first had to de-contaminate ourselves.  That process was interesting!  Once we finally got on the baby’s floor, it was so quiet!  We walked into that room and when I saw that little isolette with that tiny baby in it, tears just rolled down my face.  That little man weighed barely 5 pounds and was already more than 2 months old.  The interesting thing is that he was not due for another 4 weeks, yet.  It was wonderful to meet the nurses caring for these little babies. They love what they do.  They have a heart for these most vulnerable among us, and they are kind, gentle, and loving to all of them.

My friend was able to change the baby’s diapers and then settle in to feed him a bottle.  I sat next to her, and I started to quietly weep.  I have lost babies that size.  I have mourned the loss of my babies, and I think because of that, I just felt so connected to this little guy.  When he smiled, my heart just melted.  Here he was, still supposed to be tucked safely inside his mommy, holding my finger and smiling at me.  What a miracle of life, and modern medicine.  And my heart started to race when I realized – it is still legal pretty much anywhere in our country, to abort a baby this size.  My friend looks at me and says, “Don’t you start crying, because I will, too.” And we both smiled at this little gift of life from God.  How could anyone hurt a baby this tiny?  He was no lump of tissue; he was no “inconvenience” in the life of his mother.  He was born far, far too soon; at least his birth mother chose life for him.

Each of us has been vulnerable in our lives. Many of us still are.  But holding that little baby in my scrubbed and itching arms brought me back to the times when I needed the most care, when I was the most vulnerable, and I was thankful for the people around me, who cared for me.  Each day is a miracle because we woke up.  Father Justin Rose, a dear friend and our former pastor, has a saying and it is, “You are not guaranteed your next breath.”  That quote always brings me up short, because my days are definitely getting shorter. I’m no longer that crazy, young woman or little girl. I’m a wife, mother, sister, daughter, grandmother, mother-in-law, friend. But there are many things I no longer am…I am no longer someone’s grand daughter, because that generation has all been laid to rest and I’m certainly no longer a girl, or a teenager. I am still a daughter, but not for many more years.  Those things that I was, I will never be again.  And there are not many other things I will become, as I edge nearer and nearer to my last breath.  I read an article written by a woman who cares for the dying and in it she spoke to the 5 things you regret when you die:  Working too much; not living the life we want, but living what others want for us; wishing you had been able to express your feelings; staying in touch with friends; and letting yourself be happier (http://www.lifebuzz.com/5-regrets/).  The list seems simple enough, and yet, how many of us do these 5 things?

Last night, holding that little man in my arms, I thought of all the things in life I have not done, and I am pretty happy with the things I have done.  I try to live as regret-free as I can. I wish I had pursued the things I wanted, more than what my parents and others wanted for me (like choosing the wrong major in college, again and again!!). I think I should have taken the time to write the “great novel” or something along those lines. I realize, as I gain wisdom, how truly little I know.  Learning should never stop.  I am grateful for the love of my family and close friends, and I am extremely grateful for the gift of my faith. I know, without any regrets or doubts, that I am living the life of faith God intended for me.  I am content.  And I have realized that I can still be surprised at things, I can still learn things, and I can still love new people.  It is amazing, our capacity for love. I try to be open to the new things I see in life, the new experiences, the new life buzzing around me.  The oncoming Spring is bringing with it a sort of excitement.  The dark of winter is slowly being replaced by days of 12+ hours of sunshine. The snow is melting – I actually saw grass this morning! The world is turning and new life is all around us.  Lent is an amazing time of reflection and coming out of Lent is a time we run smack-dab into the promise of eternal life.  The Cross is born by Christ for us, and we all add to the weight of that Cross.  We all hoist our own cross on our shoulders and trudge through the winter to the Spring, and the promise of eternity.

Seeing and appreciating the fragility of new life and how we all enter the world that way, reminded me that eventually, we all leave life in the same way – dependent on others for our care, perhaps even the very air we breathe.  We leave the world a shriveled vestige of what we once were. Isn’t it so interesting to think that we come in this world dependent on others and leave the same way? I know some are taken rapidly, without need for palliative or any other sort of care.  But most of us just sort of fade.  And as I look closer at the sunset, and realize that my days are truly numbered, I pray to look forward to it with peace in my heart.  I pray that nothing was left untried that I truly wanted to do and that I loved the best I could, loving everyone around me.

Through the grace of our Baptism, Chrismation, and reception of the Holy Communion, God is with us.  He is also there to comfort us with sacramental anointing when we feel weak and vulnerable.  This Lent, I am remembering my own vulnerability, praying for those among us who are completely vulnerable and weak, and daring to open my heart to all of God’s children.

Feeling a little vulnerable today in light of the miracles I witnessed yesterday.  Definitely humbled by those miracles and the working of God in that hospital and the dedicated staff seeing to those babies.  God’s blessings often overwhelm me with the sublime beauty of it all.  Blessed Lent.

 

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“…I am with you…”

It’s been so long since I’ve blogged.  I apologize to those who actually read these!  Ha-Ha!  Thank you for hanging in there with me.

These past months have been, to say the least, difficult.  There have been days (like today) when I am on the verge of tears so often, I almost just want to sit and cry and be done with it. Instead of giving in to a sort of despondency, instead I sat and prayed this evening, seeking the Lord’s guidance in our lives, in my life.  And I would formulate words, but then nothing would come from inside my head; words just would not come to my conscious mind. However, it felt like something was already there, just waiting for me.  And now I sit here, and I am smiling.  I felt such a peace, a serenity, and a presence of God.  I know He works for our best and has nothing but our souls in mind as He works all the little miracles we barely notice day-to-day.  He is working towards our eternity and we can barely see past the end of our nose!

I had a wonderful conversation with a fellow parishioner this weekend.  It was so nice, sitting knee-to-knee and looking at one another, and really connecting.  And one of the things that came up was that I have learned so much over the past 4 years.  For one thing, I have learned that the world calls us and calls us to a certain standard and we compare ourselves all the time to the people sitting next to us.  But we miss the point.  God is also calling to us.  He is calling us to an eternity.  Not the latest purse or smart phone, house or car, but eternity.  We can choose to listen to the noise and chaos and all the emotions that come from that, or we can opt to close ourselves to it.  I have learned to let go; to let go of money, homes, the things we fill our homes with, and certain people and situations I filled my life with.

The other day, I could not sleep.  It’s been happening a lot lately. I read novels until at least midnight but am awake by 5 or 6 am.  It is finally dark in the mornings up here, as the days are gradually getting shorter.  I always walk to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.  When we lived in SoCal, we got a Keurig coffee brewer.  It’s one of those coffee machines where you put in a little plastic “pod” and brew one cup at a time.  I love coffee, I should explain right off the bat. And I mean I love the taste of it. I love coffee candy; chocolate-covered coffee beans; coffee ice cream; coffee-flavored coffee cake! So for me, the sensual pleasure of brewing my single cup of coffee was pure bliss.  We relocated to the Seattle area and I learned so much about coffee. There is literally a coffee kiosk on almost every corner.  And I learned about roasting the beans and where to buy beans from and how the soil composition and elevation, temperature and rainfall all affect the beans. I went to the first Starbucks next to Pike’s Market, stood in ridiculous lines to have a cup from that particular location (with a dear friend who was visiting from SoCal), just to say I had done that!  I have tasted some amazing coffee from some amazing roasting companies. At one point I was having coffee delivered to my home on a monthly basis.  And then our Keurig broke.  We bought a regular, old, coffee brewer; the type that brews an entire pot at a time.  Nothing too fancy, but it is bright red, which is my salute to interior design!  I digress; I got up this morning and started to make a pot of coffee; it was about 6:00am.  As I grabbed for the can of Folger’s Columbian Brew, I got the giggles.  Folger’s?  Really?  In a huge pot, no less?  Where had I sunk to?  Ha-Ha!

The thing is, once it was brewed and I tasted that first cup of coffee, I sighed with joy. It tastes wonderful.  And I followed it up today with a pot of decaf from a grocery-store, plain wrap can.  No brand name, at all.  And I enjoyed that, too.  I have learned so much from these moves. I do not need labels; I do not need much at all.

I was able to sit down this afternoon and pay our bills.  Next month, that may not be something I can do as readily.  But we have made it this far with prayers and help from friends and family.  We have had to ask for assistance from time to time.  We have had to tell people, “Thanks for inviting our family, but it is just beyond our budget right now.”  Things like that are very, very humbling.  But they are also freeing.  No, I don’t have much.  If thieves broke into my home, they would fine keepsakes and things that mean something to me, but not riches!  And people who know we are struggling have been incredibly generous, without making us feel bad, or less about ourselves.  It has been uplifting, for our hearts, heads, and souls.

We have been blessed beyond measure with family close by, a home that we love (small and humble as it is, we have found it really fits us so much better than any home we’ve lived in), and a parish community that is welcoming and filling some holes we had in our lives.  We are making new friends and establishing ourselves in a new community.  Our son is being blessed in friends, organizations he belongs to, and an incredibly amazing schooling experience he is about to begin.  We are blessed in ways we never imagined or expected – hoped for, of course, but they are unexpected because they keep cropping up and showing us the Presence of God in our lives in places we did not expect.

So I could choose to panic and worry, and not sleep. I could be crabby or hide away in my house, bemoaning our situation.  But I cannot help but smile; I have such a deep sense of contentment and peace.  We have no source of income in the ways of this world, but we are becoming enriched in ways that count, in ways that matter.  God is showing me that He is preparing my eternity and that I am to hold tight to His promises and His guidance for me and my family. He is faithful to us; we are the ones who wander off, on our divergent paths.  We are the ones who lack the patience to allow God to work in our lives, in His time!

I think I will go heat up (E-gads! Yes, in a microwave!!) a cup of decaf and settle on the loveseat with my two doggies, and enjoy an evening of quiet.  I am blessed; I am very much at peace, and still smiling!  And the Lord walks with me.

“He’s trying to change your heart.”

We recently decided to try a different approach to our health.  We started using a new kitchen gadget and way of eating.  It was really strange, because nothing was added to our diet that was in pill or powder form, neither was it a medicinal addition.  We ate all natural foods, and very simply, too.  For me, I felt clear-headed.  I also was happy.  My mood had definitely felt elevated!  And I also had more energy, more drive.  And it seemed like this was a good idea.  Some friends came to stay this weekend, a way of sharing some time with us before we relocate thousands of miles away.  We have been close friends for about 27 years or so. Over the weekend, though, we made (my husband and myself) some very poor nutritional choices, veering about as far away from our chosen path as you can get.  We had burgers, fried mushrooms, onion rings, sodas, Mexican food with too many chips, a late evening drive through Dairy Queen for some Blizzards, and then bacon and eggs breakfasts…on and on it went!  Decadent, not fasting at all (our friends are Protestant and do not keep the fast at all), and definitely not good for us.  By Sunday afternoon, I felt miserably sick.  My stomach was roiling, I was tired, and cranky, and felt wiped out.  I slept miserably on Saturday night, as well.  And I could not help but think that our step back into our former habits was completely to blame.  Our new habits had just begun last Tuesday….it will just be a week tomorrow…and we failed miserably at keeping our new ways going, in favor of accommodating some dear friends.  The interesting thing was that the male counterpart in this friendship is diabetic and his numbers stunk so bad, and he knew it, so he did not even want to test his blood!  The four of us knew we had been very, very bad!!

It is such a glorious day today!  Spring is here and the sun is out, and I am drinking my morning “Berry Blast” and determined to right my wrongs of the weekend.  I realized that my wrongs, although dietary, are significant.  These wrongs were gleefully carried out, with barely a nod to my resolutions about my diet. Our friends had also made great strides in their approach to eating and were feeling much healthier.  We get together and bam!  We are eating bad foods again, being decadent, and it was obviously not in our best interests.  How did this happen so easily?

In life, I have been patiently shown, over and over again, that we have paths to choose from.  One is good for us, one is not. One path is towards God, one is not.  One is towards life, one is towards death.  Life is about choices.  We make them every day about a multitude of things.  I chose very poorly this weekend and felt the physical remorse of doing so.  What else am I so easily willing to compromise?  Well, none of us went to Church.  Our friends are Protestant, so we did not push attending Divine Liturgy, even though it was Palm Sunday on the western calendar, and we are now in Holy Week.  How did we allow the pressure of visitors cause us to compromise our path to God?  Our culture pressures us every day to compromise our walk towards eternity with God.  I had a conversation with my son last night about raising his son, how he wants to rear him, what values are important for him to share with his son, and how he does not want interference with the process from others.  It was an enlightening conversation and another facet to that conversation was it got me to thinking about God, Our Father.  How much He wants to share with us, without outside influence, without anyone interfering with that process.  And it made me just stop.  Here we are, at the end of Lent, and I feel once again like I failed miserably.  I have, yes, made some wonderful strides and have learned so very much.  Elder Thaddeus has become, for me, like an intimate friend and spiritual father, and I feel blessed he is in my life.  Keeping silent has also had a profound influence on my life, my heart, my head, my soul.  I am blessed in that, as well.  I discovered something that is working for my betterment in health, and that is also a blessing (as I take another swig of my morning “Berry Blast”!!) But how easily that wide, decadent path to death enticed me back in.  How weak I am and how much I need God, in every aspect of my life, every day. I need to develop a stronger backbone, a way of saying “no” in a loving manner, when situations or people entice me away from the person I am choosing to become.  My “Berry Blast” this morning is more than a healthy alternative to bacon and eggs. It is a rallying point for me and as I look at it, sitting here on my desk, I am inspired to pick myself back up and re-enter the race.  Christ Himself promises us that He is waiting for us. There are innumerous examples in Scripture where God welcomes those “late to the Supper.”  The one I love is where He pays the workers in His vineyard the same wage, regardless of when they show up to work.  Some of the workers, having been toiling all day, are jealous the late-comers get the same wage and He tells them:  “Friend, I am not treating you unfairly. Didn’t you agree with me to work for the standard wage?  Take what is yours and go. I want to give this last man the same as I gave to you.  Am I not permitted to do what I want with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?  So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” (Matthew 20: 13-16) And I cling to that promise, that although I may be late, I will still be paid the same – salvation.  I work and work on myself, and am continually finding myself at the short end of the stick and yet I am comforted by knowing that I am still participating.  And I am also comforted by the fact that I knew, within hours, that I had lost my will and caved to the pressures of being with friends.  I had not insisted that we go to a salad bar!  I caved and went to a ’50s burger diner, had miserable food (horrible service, as well) and then paid for it for two days afterwards!  But I knew; I realized exactly where my error was and it has not left me since.  I also knew, with a sinking heart, that we should have invited them to participate with us, rather than worry that it would drive them away, on Palm Sunday.  We lost an incredible opportunity to share our Byzantine faith with some very dear friends.  The remorse is palatable today.

Today, I choose to step into the Light of the love of God once more. To strap on the armor of God, and to battle my weaknesses and the wiles of the enemy.  God is working so hard this Lent to change my heart.  I know that change is happening, because my awareness has grown!  I knew when I slipped – I knew it.  Before my challenging Lent, I simply would have fallen and not really noticed, because I would have been back in what has been a “comfort zone” for years and years.  I think that one of the lessons from this weekend is that I need to stop trying to please other people. I need to focus, instead, on living this Psalm:  “Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O LORD, my strength, and my redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14). This is basically telling me that only what is pleasing to God should concern my heart, my behavior, my actions.  I also believe, and have shared before, that if I can entrench deeply into my heart these precepts of God; if I can live according to His Word, emblazoned on my heart, then all these other things will also be a blessing to God.  My interaction with friends, family members, parishioners, strangers I meet along my way, will be so very different because they all will feel the light emanating from me; the Light of Christ.  And all will be well.