Realigning My Periscope

Posted on April 11, 2014 by rstaples2013

photoI have one area of my life where the Presence of God is blurred.

I know, cognitively, that God is good.

An African greeting begins:

“God is good,” followed by the response:“ All the time.”

The greeting goes on:

“All the time” and the response is “God is good.”

This is a greeting that feels right and resonates truth.

When life’s circumstances align with it, joy is released.

When life’s circumstances blur the footprints of God’s goodness, the canvas of faith must be stretched big enough to wrap around unbelief.

I write about this in a rambling unfocused way because my struggle lacks focus.

As I prayed about this I started thinking about a periscope. This instrument allows you to look around an obstacle by encasing two mirrors at 45-degree angles at each end of a tube.

The first mirror must be clean and clear in order for the image from the second mirror to be undistorted.

Am I looking at God through the circumstances of my life or am I looking at the circumstances of my life through God?

If my initial mirror is coated with pain and struggle, God does not look good in the second mirror.

If I reverse the periscope and look first at God, and then see my pain and struggle through Him, the circumstances of my life appear strangely dim.

I welcome your responses because I am not very skilled at realigning my periscope but I do believe there is power in the old hymn, “Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.”

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Becoming a Catalyst for Questions

Posted on April 9, 2014 by rstaples2013

Faith through aging eyes gives us the vantage point of seeing things through the lens of experience. We want to give advice that will prevent an unwelcome outcome to a chosen path. Well-meaning as we are, we usually find unsolicited advice to be perceived as criticism. Then there is what we see as an answer that has served us well. We want to give another person the benefit of our wisdom. But what is this person’s question? If he has no question, our answer will fall on deaf ears.

How do we live in such a way that we become a catalyst for questions?

This becomes a heart wrenching challenge when the answer we are aching to give our loved is how loved they are by God. We have found an effective model of how this can work in ministry when church outreach partners with a government program.

Our county Department of Aging had identified residents that were totally alone. No one visited them as they had burned all their bridges to people. Learning of this we, as a Senior Adult Ministry, said we wanted to visit these abandoned ones. When asked why, we said, “Because that is where Jesus would go.”

Respecting the separation of church and state protocol, we agreed not to go with a primary agenda of evangelism. Instead, we proposed that we would go and ACT like Jesus until the person we visited would ASK why we kept coming even when we were not given a warm welcome. Only then would we TELL.

There is no law against answering a question, even when the answer is your own statement of faith.

Yes, Jesus is the Answer! But what is the question?

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The Healing Power of Love

Posted on April 4, 2014 by rstaples2013

Yesterday I was sent a visitor from God. She has a name by which people call her, but I recognized her and today remember her as love. She was not in a hurry, even though I know she has much to do. She attended to my story. She felt my pain. Her gift of presence left me with strength.

She did not diminish my struggle with easy answers. She respected my understanding of what I sense I am hearing from God.

She affirmed my value without flattery.

Where there was opportunity to focus on my weakness and brokenness she stayed quiet.

Where there was opportunity to focus on my healing she spoke of it.

I got up earlier this morning for time with Jesus, eager to encounter Him.

My hunger for Him is intensified today because yesterday I was visited by love.

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“Following Jesus Is Not Hard”

Posted on March 26, 2014 by rstaples2013

I listened as these words were spoken with confidence and joy by a charismatic prophet from Macedonia. This man then said, “You only think it is hard because someone told you it was hard.” I should probably end this blog right here and let you think about this, as I have, for a couple of days. Somehow, in my reflection on this title, I have asked myself, “Is following Jesus hard for me because I am not listening well to what He is asking me to do?”

A memory from my childhood on a dairy farm is intriguing to me. photo

I was probably about nine years old when I first started doing this one “small” but “critical” task. It happened during haying season. A four-wheeled long-tongued wagon would be driven from the hayfield into our farmyard. The hired man would then come to the door and call for me. It was my responsibility to take the grown man’s place on the tractor and back the wagon up the barn bridge so the hay could be unloaded in the hayloft.

The barn bridge, which accessed the top floor of the barn, was secured on one side by a grassy slope and on the other by vertical cement blocks, which produced a twenty-foot drop into the pig pen. The margin for error in backing this heavy-laden four-wheeled long-tongued wagon up this bridge was inches.

My dad trusted me to do it.

For some reason, that I cannot defend, when Dad had demonstrated to me that, in order to accomplish this task, I need to start with the tractor at a specific place, back at an exact angle and maintain a consistent speed I did exactly that. Dad knew how it needed to be done and it never crossed my mind that I should try an alternative method or question his directions.

I didn’t wonder at the time, but I wonder now, what these men must have felt like not being trusted to back this wagon and having to ask a young girl to do it. Dad knew he could trust me.

I knew that when the wagon was on the barn floor my part of this process was done.

Following Dad was not hard.

How do I complicate following Jesus?

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Leave Your Dignity at Home

Posted on March 24, 2014 by rstaples2013

There is no way to be a hospital patient and experience a sense of dignity. As a nurse, I can talk about body parts and bodily functions much as a teacher would talk about homework and glue. It becomes part of your vocabulary.

But for the patient, especially an aging person, everything about your body and how it works becomes very personal. There seems to be a desire to keep things private. Modesty is protected as a kind of virtue.

That can work in some environments but an admission to a hospital shatters any hope of personal dignity. It all starts with the hospital gown that is designed to expose the parts of your body you most want to cover.

Then there are the “routine,” “repetitive” questions by the nursing assistant.

The story described below is true.

A man who led a youth group was admitted to a hospital for a diagnostic workup. He was in great discomfort and very eager to get some answers. A number of students from his youth group visited every evening to encourage him and pray.

This visitation group coincided with the routine visit by the nursing assistant to ask the daily questions. “What did you eat today?” Do you have any pain?” Did you have a bowel movement?”

One evening after the youth group had left, this male patient pulled the nursing assistant aside, and said it was embarrassing to talk about a bowel movement in front of his young visitors. The nursing assistant said she was sorry but she was required to ask. The patient negotiated. “Well, could we come up with some code word that would help me maintain some sense of dignity?”

Together they agreed that the next night, instead of asking about a bowel movement she would ask him if he had been lucky.

As expected, the nursing assistant arrived as the group was gathering to pray. The group waited as she attended to her checklist. One of the questions was “were you lucky today?” The youth leader said, “Yes.”

The nursing assistant replied, “It must have been the prune juice.”

I know this story is true because I was gathered around his bed with the youth group.

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There Is Someone Home

Posted on March 21, 2014 by rstaples2013

Most of us have heard the crude remark, “the lights are on but nobody’s home” referring to someone with cognitive impairment. I recently found myself in conversation with a person whom, I have since learned, has a known diagnosis of dementia. As we talked, it became increasingly clear to me that there was little relationship between my comments and the responses I was hearing. Yet, the person I was talking to seemed to be enjoying the exchange of words.

I caught myself pondering, “Why am I engaging in this conversation?”

Here are some of the things I am considering.

Is lending dignity to a person by listening an expression of love?

Am I able to be content, for a time, simply honoring the person for whom he or she is without assessing what value the conversation has for me?

Could the person I am talking with feel the benefit of human contact even if it cannot be expressed in coherent words?

Do we have any examples of conversation that bridges cognitive barriers?

I wonder why God invites us to talk to Him when our thoughts are not His thoughts?

Does He listen to me when I “don’t get it” simply because He loves me and wants to strengthen our relationship?

Does He know that I benefit from a conversation with Him even when my responses are not yet lined up with His intentions?

Does He like to hear my voice because He loves me rather than because He needs me to contribute to His knowledge base?

I welcome your thoughts.

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Papa Doesn’t Have Spell Check

Posted on March 19, 2014 by rstaples2013

The following story came by email today. It is the first one I have ever seen written by my precious first grade granddaughter. I read it with delight and pride.

“The Qwen and the Prinsess,

Wans thar was a Qwen and a prinsess. The prinsess crown brok a week lader she askt for a new crwen.

Hunnneyyy can’t you wate till tmorow but mom tmorow I have to war a crown to school OOOK.

The prinsses yelled yyyyyaaaaaa. So they went to the stra and bart her a new crown. IT IS SO PRITEY !!!
Yyyyyaaaaaaa”

This is the response I sent:

This is the most precious story. Why, when I am so thrilled with this, do I worry that my heavenly Father will be upset if I spell my prayers wrong? Besta

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In His Grip

Posted on March 18, 2014 by rstaples2013

Try to imagine yourself feeling as someone who could easily lose his or her balance. Now, in this weakened condition, imagine you need to walk on an uneven path that has loose slippery stones. A strong young friend comes along and offers to walk alongside. Do you want to stabilize yourself by holding on to this welcome companion or do you want to let him get a grip on you?

Wisdom would welcome letting your friend hold you. That way, if/when you fall, he can catch you.

I love the scriptures that remind me that God holds me with His right hand. I want to hold onto him, too, but I don’t trust the strength of my grip. Tonight, I want to rest in the picture of Him holding me with His victorious right hand, (Isaiah 41:10)

It doesn’t matter if the journey is long or steep.

I am in His grip.

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Faith through Aging Eyes

Posted on March 12, 2014 by rstaples2013

As a relatively “young” person assigned to ministry with Senior Adults, I deliberately chose to use the word “we” when addressing “our” group. Over the years, awareness gradually dawned: aging people look old to other people but they don’t feel old themselves. But wait, could this mean that I have drifted into this dreaded category known as a Senior? My birth date would say, “yes,” but…do I need a geriatric doctor? Do I apply for Senior discounts?

At the same time as I battled this reality, I recognized, in my peers, a spiritual vitality that did not diminish with the decline of physical strength and mental acuity.

It was when my mother, in the later years of dementia, was unable to recognize time or place but able to teach on the resurrection of Jesus that I was impacted by a profound truth. Our Spirits do not get old or sick. His Power is made perfect in weakness (even if the weakness is due to aging.)

A sense of excitement began to override my resistance to aging. From a spiritual perspective, my strongest days are ahead of me. Now, at 71, my adventure with God is just beginning. So this blog, Faith through Aging Eyes, is watching God be God through the lenses of living in a body with more history than future.

I welcome you to join me on this journey, sign up for this site, bless me with your comments and celebrate the precious gift of faith through aging eyes.

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Too Much Red Ink

Posted on March 10, 2014 by rstaples2013

It’s not hard to remember the sinking feeling that came with getting an assignment back from a teacher and finding it all marked up with red ink. It’s not a very long journey from, “I got a failing grade” to “I am a failure.”

I wonder if in our “journey with Jesus” we are too quick to grab the pen with red ink. Do we, in our essential task of defending the absolute truth of the gospel, extend this “stand” to that which may be better left to the illumination of process?

Here is the story that is prompting this question for me:

A lady of retirement age, whom I did not know, came to our home to assist me with a project. As we talked, she revealed to me that she had several precarious health conditions. As I listened, I felt led to ask, “Do you know Jesus?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied with evidence of warmth and familiarity.

She then went on to tell about her mother’s deathbed experience. It had been a protracted “dying” and the family had spent a week at this mother’s bedside.

After several assurances from the family that permission was given to die, this mother drew her final breath. As she did, she raised her arms toward heaven, broke into a big smile and said, “Harold.”

The lady telling this story choked up and said that Harold was her father’s name. She then spoke to me in an emotional whisper, “I think Harold was the angel God sent to take my mother home to heaven.”

I listened and stayed quiet.

I was aware that there would have been a time in my own journey where I would have needed to explain that we don’t become angels.

Somehow, in this story, the blood of Jesus is all the red ink I needed.

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