Dreading This Visit to My Parents

Posted on September 7, 2011 by jroesler728

How do you prepare for traveling cross country to visit parents who are living in what feels like a horror movie? What do you say to a mother who is counting the hours until you come because you are the only one that can help Daddy? How do you process the picture you will see of your father, who once was brilliant, now curled in fetal position with depression and dementia? How do you try to pack hope into your carry-on bag when you don’t have any?

Because the only thing harder than going is not going.

But since you have asked me to pray, I have some great news for you. I have checked with Jesus and He is free this weekend to travel with you. In fact, the seat next to you is available on all the transportation modes and He will be right there. (He also has a wrinkle in his palm that is your shape. It is a good place to sleep/rest). Eye contact with Him will let you know when to speak and when to stay quiet. Be careful that when you get there you don’t pick up the wrong job description. The one labeled, “You are the only one who can help,” does not have your name on it. Your job description has only three responsibilities.

The first is to love, and since the Author of Love is with you, He will teach you how to love. Be open to some wild and creative ideas.

The second requirement is that you pour out all you possess on the feet of Jesus. (Now, His view of this may mean that you pour it on the least of these.) Matthew 25 gives us a glimpse into how “other” His thinking is. Listen carefully to Him because after you have done this sacrificial act He will say to anyone who criticizes you to leave you alone because you have done what you could.

Your final assignment is to suffer. Yes, that is what I said. You will find that it is easier to feel the pain than it is to strategize ways of getting rid of it. And Jesus has packed light so He has room to carry your pain. Just give it to Him and He carries it easily. He has worked out so much that what feels heavy for you is not even noticeable to Him.

Oh, and since you will have time on the flight, give your pen to Jesus and let Him write the story. It may not have a fairy tale ending in our eyes but we know for sure that the ink will be love.

Bon Voyage

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The Road to Our Lord

Posted on September 5, 2011 by jroesler728

In this post I am including a letter I received recently in response to Hedvig’s story. The writer of this letter is Hedvig’s niece in Norway. She is speaking of the impending death of her mother, who is Hedvig’s sister.

Dear Roselyn!

Yesterday I visited your blog and read about your visit with Aunt Hedvig. You are good at describing so I can see everything for me. Mum and Aunt Hedvig did have the same relationship to God. These last days mum has started on the road to our Lord. The three last weeks have been difficult for my mom. She has gone from coping quite well, to be totally depend on other people. The sight and the physical has been very poor. But the mind is clear. Now she only won’t to go home to God, even though it`s hard to leave all her.

These two “Ladies” have had å pride and dignity in them. Something I can see they have from my grandma. So they have a legacy that is worth to take for us. (End of letter)

I have never heard a more beautiful way to say someone is dying than “These last days mum has started on the road to our Lord.”

I spoke with the writer of this letter this morning on Skype and remembered a conversation I had a few years ago with her mother. I said the water along the southern coast of Norway, where their home is located, is ice cold, too cold for swimming. Oh no, the mother in her late 80’s responded. That shock is good for your body. I swim every day.

It must be true, as good health has sustained her into her 90’s. But, even Norwegian bodies have limits!! Her Mom is in a hospital now and her breathing is a sign that her life in this tent may be hours or may be days. With deep conviction she was able to tell her great-granddaughter that she will soon be with her best friend, Jesus.

I reminded the family that meeting Jesus will not be a shock for this family pillar. She has been His close companion here on earth. She will only now see the face for the voice that she knows so well.

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Finding Footprints of Faith

Posted on September 2, 2011 by jroesler728

I talked to Jo from her hospital bed this morning. I called more because I needed my own faith strengthened than because I thought I had something of encouragement for her.

Jo is 90 years old. She has been a faithful member of our weekly prayer group for years. Her own prayer request has usually been for her daughter who has ridden a roller coaster called cancer. There were weeks when it looked like physical health would prevail but now we know that the relentless intruder has been detected in her daughter’s brain and after the current series of radiation she will qualify for hospice.

At the same time, Jo has learned that she herself has both lung and liver cancer. This was hard for her to process because she hasn’t felt “that sick.”

Knowing this diagnosis and knowing that Jo lives alone in her condominium, I asked her last week what her thoughts were for how she would be taken care of if she couldn’t manage on her own. Her answer surprised me. She said, “I have never given it a thought.”

I began working with her on potential alternatives for care but before we could establish plans I received a call that she had been admitted to the hospital again, this time for kidney failure. Since Jo only has one kidney this opens hospice care for her, as well.

“Guess what, Roselyn?” She spoke with a hint of joy in her voice. “My daughter and I are going to be able to go to the same hospice!”

I realize that it requires a stretch to see this as a silver lining, but let me share Jo’s perspective on what is happening. (She has granted me permission to tell this story.) Here are excerpts from Jo’s testimony as she prepares for hospice transfer.

“We don’t need to make plans, God does.  He’s working everything out; He knows what I need and what I don’t need. I talked to my daughter last night and her ex-husband (whom I love) and her son were with her at the hospital. It makes my heart sing. I will be with her in heaven.”

Jo came to know Jesus personally in 1978. She was working at a job she hated when she heard a voice say, “What are you doing here?” She turned around to see who was talking to her and there was no one there. When she told her husband (now deceased) of the experience he said, “Why don’t you quit?” That is what she did and it freed her to attend a bible study and be mentored by a Christian neighbor.

When I asked Jo whom she thought the voice was, she said she had been told it was the Holy Spirit.

Now at 90 years old, having outlived all of her siblings, her husband and her only son, she is finding footprints of Jesus as she prepares to enter a hospice on the same day as her only daughter will also be a patient there.

God grant that I will find His footprints when my story looks shattered to me and may those who watch my life hear my heart singing.

What footprints of faith are you seeing today?

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Freedom to Finish Last

Posted on August 31, 2011 by jroesler728

I have registered for the Power Walk competition sponsored by Wisconsin Senior Olympics which will be held at the Milwaukee County Zoo in just a few days. I am excited to be a part of this event and am looking forward to meeting other seniors and encouraging them in their efforts. I have invited the Senior Adults that I work with at our church to come and cheer for me.

A friend who actually competes in 5K runs is going to walk with me. She is making us shirts that will display the address for this blog!!

I want to do my best in this competition. As I walked my usual route through our neighborhood tonight I tried to increase my pace a little. But as I did, the realization hit me that I will still be happy if I finish last.

This is a major shift in thinking for me. Having recently attended my high school reunion, I was reminded that I was the valedictorian of my class. As I look back on those days I wonder why it was so important to me that I get all A’s. I was driven to be the best back then.

If I were a high school freshman now I would invest some of the energy I spent studying into relationships. I would let my classmate who had given me a diamond ring when I was five years old see that I hadn’t grown too serious to have fun and make life fun for him.

Reflective lessons can lead to regret or resolve. I am glad tonight that I am able to enter a new field of competition. I am glad that I have the freedom to finish last. I will post another blog after the event and let you know how I did. If I finish last I will throw myself a party.

What life lessons are being revealed to you in this chapter of your life?

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You’re Going to Have a Home!

Posted on August 29, 2011 by jroesler728

My heart was heavy as I drove the forty minutes that my GPS said would be needed to get to the address I had touched on the screen. I was sad because the friend I had hoped could go with me was too sick to go. Without her inspiration and creativity I would never have thought of this project. Even now, after years of her battling a complex illness, she lives in a prison of pain and isn’t able to comprehend that her suffering matters to me.

I was going to buy some koi to stock my backyard fishpond that this friend had designed. Lying on the decorative rocks is a sign she painted on a slice of log that reads, “Roselyn’s Sabbath Rest.” I wondered too, why I was driving so far to get these fish. The installer of the pond had told me I should only get six. Somehow I wanted to keep a relationship with this young man for whom I had begun to pray. This pond center with water plants and fish was a part of his business so I thought this would be one more connection.

I arrived at the farm that had been transformed into tubs of plants, piles of rocks, tanks of fish and greenhouse “like” structures. Trucks, tarps and a few muscular young men, (whom I recognized as the ones that built our pond) were scattered around the property. The men waved but were intent on their work. I marveled that from this mess they could create the stunning beauty of a backyard pond in the suburbs.

I found a building that looked like it might serve as an office. A relaxed maternal figure was sitting on the front steps. I introduced myself. Evidencing comfort in herself, her surroundings and our contact she said, “Oh, you are here for two free fish.” She is one of those people who you feel you have known a long time.

We walked to the tanks of fish with me asking questions that she easily answered. From the eight available tanks we chose two from which I would make my selection. I wanted four bigger fish and two smaller ones. With deep respect for the gravity of this choice, this attendant listened carefully to the colors that attracted me. She pointed out the one white fish that she thought was particularly beautiful. She spoke with such tenderness and delight of this fish that I couldn’t find a way to say that it looked ordinary to me.

We finally netted eight fish into a dishpan. From these, I would need to reject four. I began by choosing the white one she loved. When I did, she picked it up and spoke to it with unrestrained joy, “Oh, you are going to have a home. I am so glad for you. You deserve more than this little tank. You will have a home. You will have a beautiful home!!”

It was hard to leave four of the fish, but I had been given a limit. When we went into the office to pay my bill I saw a scribbled note that said, “Give Roselyn two free fish and a good deal on the others.” The attendant had been so attentive to me and taken so much time that her cigarette had burned out in the ashtray. I drove the forty minutes home with the oxygen filled plastic bags holding three fish each and the picture of the delight that my helper had extracted from the adoption. After releasing the fish in our pond I had to call back and tell her how happy they were to have room to swim and a waterfall under which to play.

The next morning in my time of meditation, I was interrupted with the thought that I bought that white fish because she loved it. In a flood of revelation God whispered, “Would I do less for the one you love?”

Then I wondered why the words, “You are going to have a home” held such impact? I remembered:  the angels rejoice when a home is secured for one.

What pictures of God’s character does this story surface for you?

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Hedvig-Part Three

Posted on August 26, 2011 by jroesler728

This is the conclusion of a story which first posted on Monday, August 22, 2011 and continued on Wedesday, August 24, 2011. 

With a look that betrayed this next idea as part of a plan, Hedvig asked me if I would like some tea. I glanced into her spotless kitchen and at her fragile frame and said, “No, but thank you.”

A determined look replaced the earlier gentle approach and she asked in a way that answered itself, “You won’t let me serve you?”

I then said, “I would love some tea.” I smiled as I remembered we were instructed as children to always decline a first invitation for food or drink (even if we were hungry or thirsty) and then accept graciously but be sure to leave a little on the plate so the hostess would know we had had enough. Is this just a Norwegian custom? I don’t know.

Hedvig declined my offer to help and began setting her table with fine imported dishes. Small plates were set out for pound cake and a tea pot with a cozy. A small silver tray with a sugar bowl and cream pitcher soon joined the lot with carefully folded napkins at the side of the plates. I asked if I could play some Norwegian music on her CD player and she said I could go ahead. “You’ll figure out how it works.”

We sat down at the table and together recited the Norwegian Table Prayer. As we enjoyed our tea she started talking about Andrew and her girls. “Oh, how crazy he was about those girls. (Two girls who are now about my age completed the family of five.) When the girls wanted to go shopping they always wanted to go with their dad because nothing was “too good for his girls.” She smiled and admitted, “I was always a little more careful.” Hedvig then commented about how wonderful these girls still were to her. I knew that because I see the diligence with which they care for her and the time they spend with her. As we finished our tea, I said, “This apartment is so peaceful.”

Then, in a way that would open the door for her to say more I said, “I imagine you would like to live here as long as you can.”

“Yes, I would. But the Lord knows. I have such wonderful girls.”

I said, “I suppose when you need to you will live with one of them.”

She said, “Yes, she supposed that would be the way but she preferred being on her own if she could.”

I was grateful that either way would be a good experience as the relationships are strong and the love evident. Both are proud of their mother and she is proud of them. If the corner of moving from this apartment needs to be turned, it will be done with the simple elegance that characterizes this family. I looked at my watch and told her I needed to go. I asked if I could help clean up the dishes and she stated the obvious, “No, just leave everything.”

I did leave everything, but I didn’t leave unchanged. I had revisited my childhood and I was grateful, I had learned from a child of God that leaves everything with Him, and I had been reminded that glimpses of eternity cannot be expressed in words, at least not English words.

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Hedvig-Part Two

Posted on August 24, 2011 by jroesler728

This is a continuation of the story which was posted on Monday, August 22, 2011.

The hallway to her apartment was long but well kept. I saw her in the distance and waved. She waved too.

 As I got closer I said, “You look so nice. Did you get dressed up just for me?” She was wearing ear rings and an attractive short sleeve sweater that complemented a patterned skirt.  She admitted that she had changed her sweater but said it was because the other one was too hot.

I said that if I had no plans for the day I wondered if I would just stay in my nightgown. She said that when she has no plans she gets up later but she always gets dressed. “If I don’t, something always happens.”

 As we found seats in her apartment I commented that she had rearranged the furniture. She said her daughter had done that. As usual, her apartment appeared well attended. A refreshing breeze was felt from the screened patio door. Bouquets of fresh fall flowers were attractively placed on tables.

As we settled, she asked about my mother and my friend. It is hard to beat Hedvig to the punch, which is always other oriented.  I had previously asked her to pray about both. She listened carefully and then confessed that it is harder to cope when you get older.

I asked Hedvig to explain what she meant, “It’s harder because you don’t have the physical strength…to talk to yourself… to reason it out  and…”she gave up on trying to explain and concluded, “It’s only the Lord that can help you through it.”

She then became intent on telling me that when I had last spoken at our Senior Seminar, which she had attended, she had heard every word I had said. She was so thrilled with this and felt so blessed.

She went on to tell of another speaker that she wasn’t able to follow. She said she thought she was limited in her understanding. I said, “No, I don’t think that is the case.” 

I then offered, “It might be the speed at which the content is delivered.” Hedvig immediately embraced this as the answer. “If I could hear it again and have time with it I would be able to understand it.” 

She then became deliberate in her intention to change the subject. “I shouldn’t talk about my hearing problems.”

I asked, “Why not? You are here to teach me. I am here to learn.”

She elaborated, “I have had many blessings and when I concentrate on my hearing loss they sort of get in the background. The big thing with focusing on my hearing is that it takes the place of the joy I should have in the Lord.”

We both sat quietly for awhile. I then asked her if she was 95 years old or 96 years old. She said she was 95 in May. This was October.

She knew I wanted to know what it was like to be 95 so she said, “I wonder in the morning if I am able to get up or not? When I get up I feel better. I do one thing and then I do the other, praying, Lord, help me not to fall.

I have rods I hang on to and when I make it out of the bath tub I know I can make it today, too, but you have to take the first step in faith. The Lord answers prayer.”

Most of the time a visit to Hedvig includes some memories of her son, Drew, who because she had the measles during her pregnancy with him, was heartbreakingly impaired. My picture of him is a boy and then a man who functioned marginally, unable to speak discernable words, but carried a Bible and clapped his hands to demonstrate that he could discern spiritual truth. Drew was born in 1942 and died in 1987 at the age of 45. For the last 12 years of Drew’s life, Hedvig cared for him as a widow as her husband, Andrew, of whom she has cherished memories, died in 1975.

In reflecting on Drew, Hedvig said quietly, “You don’t need much intelligence to know the Lord. His spirit wasn’t affected by the measles.”

I said, “Won’t it be wonderful to meet him now that he is healthy?” 

Hedvig then began to think of his spirit rejoicing in the presence of the Lord now and as she pictured this she broke into song in her native Norwegian language. Usually, we can converse a little in Norwegian as I know some basic words but this time she used words that I did not know. As she sang and imagined her son, without his disabilities, her face seemed to take on a glow. I tried to understand what she was describing but she explained they were uncommon Norwegian words that I wouldn’t know but that I should try to learn. I suggested glory, awe, praise, but none seemed to satisfy her as a fit. She said there were some Norwegian words for which she couldn’t find an English translation. I said, “Maybe in English we try to explain too much. Maybe more has to be left to mystery.”

She didn’t comment on that but instead continued to sing, obviously struggling to remember the words to some of the songs that were coming back to her. When she finished the singing she smiled warmly and said, “Just think, it’s almost a hundred years since I learned those songs in school. It’s not funny I can’t remember.”

This story will be concluded on Friday, August 26.

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Hedvig-Part One

Posted on August 22, 2011 by jroesler728

This is a three part post in memory of a Senior Adult whom I visited eight years ago but the lessons learned continue to guide my life.

HEDVIG Written by Roselyn Staples October, 2003

I don’t know why it is that when I feel very tired I feel like going to visit Hedvig. Is it because she was born in Norway and being with her makes me feel less homesick; less removed from the Norwegian/American community in which I grew up and the world view that seems so natural to me? Is it because, at age 95, living alone in her apartment, her dependence on our Lord Jesus Christ is something I want to make real in my life? Is it because she knows that she is not far from heaven and that makes eternal values her values for today? Is it because when I asked her what I should do with Senior Adult ministry she said, “Tell them about Jesus.” Is it because, one day in her apartment, she pulled my face within six inches of hers and said, “Roselyn, you know that you wouldn’t have faith if God hadn’t given it to you.” I don’t know the answers to these questions but I know that today, I realized I had a couple of discretionary hours and I picked up the phone and called Hedvig.

 “Hello Hedvig, This is Roselyn. I am wondering what plans you have for this afternoon.”

“Oh, hello Roselyn, My plans for this afternoon are to do nothing special.”

“Would it be OK if I came to visit.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“Good, I will see you about 2 o’clock.”

“That will be good.”

I drove the relatively short distance to Hedvig’s apartment. The entry was locked but I easily found her name and buzzed the number that would let her know I was there. She, as usual, pushed the door release button for a very long time. I already felt welcome.

This story will be continued on Wednesday, but for now, reflect on who in your life makes you feel welcome. Share your thoughts with us.

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I Loved You Right Away

Posted on August 19, 2011 by jroesler728

I received an email from a precious friend asking me to rejoice with her about the birth of her first grandchild. It prompted the memory of this poem that I wrote almost five years ago after I had appointed myself to be the adopted grandmother for the coming baby of my Australian co-worker. Since this child already had a grandmother in the area and another in Australia I used the name Besta, which is grandmother in Norwegian. The instant love described in the poem became a reality for me when I held her in the hospital just a few hours after her birth. (Be sure to read to the end).

I Loved You Right Away

I thought I’d grow to love you

When I learned how you’d been knit.

I thought I’d need to know you

And how you and I would fit.

I thought I’d need to see you smile

And maybe dry your tears

To learn how I could make you laugh

And take away your fears.

I thought we’d play together

And maybe read a book

We’d watch the fish and catch a frog

And maybe learn to cook.

Love, I thought, would be a seed

That I would guard and shower

Until one day it sprouted forth

A bud, and then a flower.

But, love for you had other plans

There’s nothing I can say

‘cept when my eyes first saw you

I loved you right away.

From Besta Roselyn 10/06/06

PS: And so I’ll say I love you

And not try to explain

For God has opened heavens gates

With unexpected rain.

 Some day you’ll call me Besta

Then we’ll ponder, you and I

And together thank Our Father

Who won’t need to ask us why!

She calls me Besta now. (8/11/11) I took a picture of her with my cat and I asked how the two of them were the same. She said, “We are both yours.” I rested in the arms of joy.

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Feeling for You

Posted on August 17, 2011 by jroesler728

by Shirlee Vandegrift

Father of All,

“All we have needed Thy hand hath provided. Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.” So much of what stirs us in our time with You is found in music and lyrics such as these, written and composed by men and women who knew You and loved You. Their love was so great they couldn’t hide it. Whether they were singing of adoration, suffering, eternal life, hope, forgiveness, or numerous other subjects, they sang with deep feeling–feeling for You.

And we, who are also on the receiving end of their freely given musical gift, bow our heads in worship to You the Gift Giver. Thank You for everything You have showered upon us. We are grateful for it all. We come together today to say so. Those who have no hope look at us and wonder how we can sing with great joy in the midst of days that may be difficult. Oh God, Who hold us up when we sink, Who is present with us at all times, Who heals the sick and comforts the lonely, Who makes us laugh with delight at the world You made, we offer You our love and praise.

Now and forever,

Amen

Taken from A Month of Sundays, A Devotional by Shrilee A. Vandegrift

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