An Unspeakable Gift

Posted on May 2, 2012 by jroesler728

As a community health nurse it was my responsibility to meet with hospitalized patients prior to their discharge to arrange follow up home care. The client I am remembering today was 34 years old. I had read her hospital chart and knew that she had cancer of the throat.  The doctor’s notes indicated that her life expectancy was only a few months. The social service notes recorded that she had five small children at home. Surgery had robbed her of the ability to speak.

I allowed extra time for my interview as I would need to ask her questions and then give her a small white board so she could write her answers. I introduced myself to this lady, whose name was Mary, and explained my purpose. Her face was still heavily bandaged because of the extensive surgery. When I asked my first question and handed her the white board and marker, tears ran down her cheeks.

I pondered what had prompted the look of fear and sadness. Then, hoping that I was wrong, I said, “Mary, you can’t read.” Her posture confirmed this dreaded explanation. With a sinking realization that this dying mother would never be able to tell anyone how she felt I quietly asked God, “What am I going to do?”

His answer was immediate, “Teach her to talk to me.”

I put my assessment materials aside, leaned closer to Mary’s face and said, “Mary, I am going to teach you to pray.” And so that is what I did.

I am so thankful for the teaching of Psalm 39 that assures us that before the word is on our tongue, God knows it completely. Mary could “talk” freely to God without voice or literacy. Of course, we made arrangements for her other needs, as well, with posters and pictures.

Mary then went home and I wondered how things were going.

A  couple of months later I “happened” to be in the emergency room when an ambulance pulled up and a patient was brought in by cart. I recognized her as Mary.  My heart was throbbing as I leaned over her and eagerly asked, “Mary, has God been real to you?”

Mary’s eyes shone and she lifted her hand from the blanket to show me a “thumbs up.”

When have you been unspeakably thankful for the unconditional gift of prayer?

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Quilting Old Memories

Posted on April 30, 2012 by jroesler728

What do you do when after 50 years you have a whole weekend to spend with your best friend from childhood? The natural place for us to start was to get in the car and drive to and through the places where our memories were created.

We were able to map out a circular route that included our childhood churches, family grave sites, our one room schoolhouse, our favorite river. As we rode along together our conversation flowed as fast as the river. Our words flowed over each other like the water on the rocks. Memories were quilted together as we each remembered scraps of stories, working to piece them together and stitch them into place.

“Who was that old couple that had the parrot? We stopped at their house when we were trick or treating.” “Where is the farm of those two brothers?” (The one was big, noisy and played the violin. The other was small, quiet and timid.) “Drive slow here so you can see what has happened to this house.” Sometimes a place that had once been “picture perfect” was now trashed. But other places that once were dilapidated had been renovated to stunning beauty. 

Scanning the landscapes of former farms everything looked overgrown and untended. Fields that once were proud of their freshly plowed razor straight furrows were invaded with random brush. Rows of regal pine trees that pointed to the skies once supported strong branches laden with needles hugging the ground. In their place now stood long bare tree trunks with irregular shapes and only a few drooping branches. “They are old now,” my friend explained.

“This road has changed! It is one big curve instead of a left turn. Where is the river? They can change the road but they can’t possibly have moved the river!!”

My friend interrupted my rambling by asking, “What are you feeling?”

“Emotions are crashing in,” I said. “A part of me wonders why I ever left this place. Another part of me is needing to recognize that the place I left is not here anymore.”

Now, as I write this with the benefit of reflection, I am filled with gratitude for the relationship that provides the backing for this quilt. It is strong, easy, mutually encouraging and fun. Fifty years is not long enough to weaken the fabric woven on the loom of childhood friendship.

Do you have a childhood friend with whom you could quilt memories? Share your stories with us we would love to hear them.

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Lessons from a Tattoo

Posted on April 26, 2012 by jroesler728

I met her in the hospital. She was a patient that was assigned to me for her admission work up. I was a recent graduate nurse and was learning from each new patient; but from this one, I gleaned a lesson that has helped to shape my life.

She was an elderly lady and by first impression she had lived a hard life. There were no masks of make up or hair color treatments. Her clothes were ragged and old. They may have fit at one time but now they were bigger than her thin frame needed. Her wrinkled skin looked like she had spent a lot of time in the sun.

An admission procedure involves asking many questions about presenting problems and taking a health history. Then a physical examination is done looking for signs and symptoms that will help in establishing a preliminary diagnosis. It was when I was checking her skin that I noticed the markings of an old tattoo on her forearm. I didn’t want to be biased but I couldn’t escape thinking that she did not in anyway fit into my category of someone who would get a tattoo. I asked her to tell me about it. I sat in rapt attention as she told me her story.

It happened during the Depression Era. Her mother had died when she and her brother were very young, about 2 and 3 years old. Her father was not able to find work in the Texas area where they lived. Finally, as a last resort, he agreed to take an assignment with the Coast Guard. This meant that her broken hearted father had to place his two children in an orphanage. Learning that he would be out at sea at least 6 months and fearing that somehow the children would get lost in the system, mixed up with other kids, or he not have the right paper work to reclaim them, he did a profound thing. He had his name tattooed on their arms so that no one could ever question who these children belonged to.

My heart was flooded with compassion and respect for this father. Then I was reminded of how like our Heavenly Father he was. Isaiah 49:16 quotes the Lord, “See, I have engraved you on the palms of My hands.” I don’t think my patient was given a path in life that was easy to walk. I do think she could look at her arm and know she had a father who loved her.

How many times, when my faith has been worn thin, have I comforted myself with the assurance that my heavenly Father has carved my name on His hand. Do you have that comfort today?

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Steep Steps and Crutches

Posted on April 25, 2012 by jroesler728

The church begged to be photographed. It is a classic white structure with a steeple that points through the towering pines to the heavens.

At the time of my childhood, which is the setting for these memories, the front door of the church was accessed by a long flight of narrow steep steps. It was a nightmare for a man on crutches. It could have been a valid reason to not attend.

But not for my grandpa. For him, and for us when we visited, it only meant we leave early for church so Grandpa can do the agonizing work of climbing the steps with crutches.

As a kid I hated to wait as Grandpa struggled with this weekly climb. Today I cherish this picture as a stepping-stone for my own faith.

Something was compelling Grandpa. No, Someone. Thank you, Jesus.

Who put stepping-stones in your childhood faith?

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Putting Grandma in the Grave

Posted on April 23, 2012 by jroesler728

Originally posted on June 24, 2011

(A graveside service for children)

There is no way to make what we are going to do here now easy.  As we actually put the body that your Grandmother used to live in into the grave, we feel all kinds of things, like there is something basically wrong about this.  And God understands these feelings better than we do.  Our feelings of sadness feel like fear and sometimes it all feels like confusion. That’s because death is both and enemy and a friend.

It is an enemy because it robs us of time together with someone we love.  God doesn’t like it either.  We would not have sickness and death if we didn’t have sin.  Death is an enemy BUT it is an enemy that God did defeat when Jesus rose again from the dead. Our bodies still have to die but when they do, if we belong to Jesus, He comes to get us and we don’t die at all.  We just move to where He is and wait there for the rest of the family.  Actually, the person who goes to Heaven doesn’t wait because there is no time there. It is we, here on earth that wait. And then finally at the end of everything here on earth, we all get new bodies, but I’m not sure how that works.

Death is a friend because when we have lived on this earth for as long as God thinks it is a good idea, death let’s us get free from this body that the Bible calls a tent.  This is what happened to your Grandmother and what we are going to do now is place her tent in the grave because she doesn’t need it anymore.  Your Grandmother isn’t here at the cemetery today. She’s already gone on ahead with Jesus. But we don’t throw her body just anywhere because it is the thing that she lived in and we want to show respect for it. This place will have a maker with her name on it.  It will be a place where you can visit if you want to, and remember some of the special times you have had together.

Sometimes it might feel to you like Grandmother is actually talking to you when you remember some of the things she has said to you.  That will be the Holy Spirit reminding you of the truth she taught you.  The Bible tells us not to talk to the dead but the Holy Spirit loves to remind us of truth. And if you want to say something to her you can ask Jesus to tell her.

In 2 Timothy 1:5 & 6 Paul reminds Timothy that he sincerely trusts the Lord because he has the faith of his mother and of his grandmother.  He that tells him to fan into flame the spiritual gift God gave him.  My prayer for you today is that you will hang on tight to the faith of your Grandmother and live a life as she did that looks like Jesus.

Because God, who is in charge of everything, has called your Grandmother home to Himself, we now commit the body she used to live in to the earth.  And we commit her into the hands of her loving heavenly Father and his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who said,” I am going ahead to get a room ready for you.”

Please leave a  comment if you find this being helpful for children at a graveside committal service.

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Well, It Happened Again

Posted on April 20, 2012 by jroesler728

by Shirlee Vandegrift

Today (April 4) a dear man died and went to Heaven. We all knew it was going to happen sooner or later. In fact we knew it was likely to be sooner. Such a hard last year he had as did his wife and family. And so we say the correct things and we rally around and we rejoice knowing he is with our Lord. At the same time we grieve, not as those who have no hope, but sorrowful nevertheless.

This dear man was a lot of good, but he wasn’t perfect. None of us are. This husband and father was loving and loved. This kind man was a child of God and now he is with Him. Thoughts flit through my mind and I smile inside at the memories of this dear man and his faithful wife. They were two of my first friends at our church. You felt loved when you were around them. And so tonight I pray that when Jesus took this man’s hand this afternoon He immediately took him to meet the Father. God smiled, I’m sure.

May we hold on to the truth that there are no more tears in Heaven, no more pain. And may we find the words of a famous hymn, “When we’ve been there 10,000 years … we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise.” to be one of Heaven’s blessings. And finally, when it is our turn, when it happens again, may we walk with the Son to meet the Father. I can hardly wait.

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Come, See a Miracle

Posted on April 18, 2012 by jroesler728

Originally posted on June 13, 2011

I think I was four years old. We lived on a farm and on a routine day after our evening meal, which we called supper, my Dad and Mom would go out to the barn for a couple of hours to milk the cows, provide feed and water for the animals, and check on the various gerrymandered creations that kept broken down equipment last past their normal expiration date so that our basic needs could be met.

It was as such a time as this when my mother arrived at the door of our house and breathlessly said, “Honey, get your coat. I want to show you a miracle.” She helped me with my thick, hand-me-down, altered to fit coat and tied a scarf around my head.

We walked to the barn with the winter snow crunching beneath our feet. (I still miss those nights when the air was clear, the stars were bright and the snow crunched with each step.) When we reached the barn the familiar smell of animals and the warmth their bodies emitted felt comforting to me.

Mom was undistracted in her mission to show me a miracle. She took me to the platform behind the stanchions where the cows were secured. (This is where I had learned to be careful because a cow’s tail can be a memorable whip.)

We stopped behind the cow that was Mom’s destination. Dad was standing behind this cow and to my amazement he had a long rope that seemed secured under the cow’s tail and was pulling with what looked like all his might.

Mom’s non-verbal posture compelled me to be quiet and watch.

Before long, the feet of a calf, tied by the rope, came forth from under the cow’s tail as my dad continued to pull.

Then, at a speed almost too fast for words, the calf’s head appeared and the whole body slipped to the straw below. The calf barely landed when it rose shakily to its four legs. Somehow, even though secured in a stanchion, the mother was able to crane her neck, push the calf up to her face and lick away any film that would inhibit clear breathing. She then used her rather strong neck movements to push the calf to her udder where he quickly found the perfect anatomical protrusions to fill his mouth and begin a rhythmical sucking of milk.

I am so grateful for the gift of growing up on a farm and for a mother who recognized miracles.

I wonder why, when I worked as a nurse, I cried every time I saw a baby born?

What have you learned from life experience that still fills your heart with wonder?

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Oh, Mr. Tentmaker

Posted on April 16, 2012 by jroesler728

Originally Posted June 8, 211

2 Corinthians 4:16-5:9

It was nice living in this tent when it was strong and secure and the sun was shining and the air was warm.

But, Mr. Tentmaker, it’s scary now.

My tent is acting like it’s not going to hold together. The poles seem weak and they shift with the wind, a couple of the stakes have wriggled loose from the sand, and worst of all, the canvas has a rip. It no longer protects me from beating ran or stinging flies.

It’s scary in here, Mr. Tentmaker. Last week I was sent to the repair shop and some repairman tried to patch the rip in my canvas. It didn’t help much, though, because the patch pulled away from the edges and now the tear is worse.

What troubled me most, Mr. Tentmaker is that the repairmen didn’t seem to notice that I was still in the tent. They just worked on the canvas while I shivered inside. I cried out once, but no one heard me.

I guess my first real question is, “Why did you give me such a flimsy tent? I can see by looking around the campground that some of the tents are much stronger and more stable than mine.  Why, Mr. Tentmaker, did you pick a tent of such poor quality for me and even more importantly, what do you intend to do about it?”

“Oh, little tent dweller,” as the Creator and Provider of tents, “I know all about you and your tent and I love you both.

I made a tent for myself once and lived in it on your campground. My tent was venerable too, and some vicious attackers ripped it to pieces while I was still in it. It was a terrible experience but you’ll be glad to know they couldn’t hurt me. In fact, the whole occurrence was as a tremendous advantage because it is this very victory over my enemy that frees me to be of present help to you.

Little tent dweller, I am now prepared to come and live in your tent with you, if you will invite me.  You will learn, as we dwell together, that real security comes from my being in your tent with you.  When the storms come, you can huddle in my arms and I’ll hold you. When the canvas rips, we’ll go to the repair shop together.

Someday, little tent dweller, your tent will collapse (for I’ve only designed it for temporary use).  When it does, you and I will leave together. (I promise not to leave before you do.) Then, free of all that would hinder or restrict, we’ll move to our permanent home and together forever rejoice and be glad.”

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Scared?

Posted on April 13, 2012 by jroesler728

By Shirlee Vandegrift

The word ‘scared’ should not have a place in the mind and mouth life of a believer, should it?  Nor should the words ‘why’, ‘why me’, ‘why them’ or any other words that indicate unbelief.

I have been struggling with a few of those words recently as I witness a friend with unremitting pain that has not been diagnosed well enough for proper treatment.  If you have been in this situation you know that pain can change you.  You know that it can become all consuming.  You can’t sleep or get comfortable or concentrate.  A normally sunny disposition can get lost in the dark clouds of the hurt.  Sometimes family and friends get hurt from the fallout.  At times we are scared.  What can we do?

In a desire to help my friend I do the only thing I can do.  I pray.

I say,

Gentle God,

When I am not experiencing discomfort give me sensitivity to those who are.  Help me not to judge the hurting.  If they begin to wonder where You are give me words that will assure them that You haven’t moved away from their side, nor have I.  If I begin to wonder where You are, forgive me.  If it is Your will to be quiet for a time give us the patience to wait for Your answer.  If there is no answer now, give us trust.  And Father, You can take away the pain.  We would like that.  For Your glory.

Amen

 

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Happy Birthday!

Posted on April 12, 2012 by jroesler728

Celebrating 1 year!

A Celebration! Silverstrands.org is a year old.

We thank God for his faithfulness in helping us put to “paper” the many stories we have shared; the issues we have raised; the prayers we have offered; and the thoughts and reflections of our faith as seen through aging eyes.

We thank you our readers for faithfully following our blog, for encouraging us, and giving us your comments. We want to hear more from you.

During this next year we hope to continue to bring you more stories, some that make you cry and some that make you laugh; more prayers so that together we learn to praise and honor God in all that we do and in all that comes our way (in good times and bad); and to bring up those topics that no one really wants to talk about but, in all honesty, are part of the daily lives of our seniors.

My goal for the coming year is to write in such a way that you are prompted to leave a comment. Take a risk and write. Let’s get a discussion going!!!  My second goal is to add pictures to the blog posts. Looking forward to another year with you, our readers.

But before we begin with the new, we’d like to spend a few weeks reposting some of our favorite posts (and yours). So let us know, which ones you would like to see again.

Thanks for following us!

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