When Do I Say Goodbye?

Posted on July 25, 2011 by jroesler728

I have said goodbye to two precious friends this year because I knew they were dying. One was Darlene. She was hospitalized for kidney failure after learning that the chemotherapy she had been enduring for her cancer was no longer effective. As a Christian, a medical doctor and a psychologist, she applied what she knew to be true about having exhausted human effort.

On the day before Darlene died, she was given the gift of vitality that allowed her to bless her family and her close friends. Mine was not done in person. When I asked if she wanted me to come she said firmly, “Roselyn, no, we will do this by phone.” (She was in a hospital three hours away.) We both knew this was the last time we would talk on this earth. A take away from that day is Darlene quoting C S Lewis and announcing that she didn’t have a soul. She then explained that she was a soul and she had a body. Our goodbye was painful but it brought closure to this journey of friendship.

The other was Ron. Having been made Power of Attorney for his health care and his finances I was sorry I lived 2 hours away from his hospital. We had been friends from childhood and pretty much able to finish each other’s sentences. His hobby farm was a refuge for me from the rush of suburban life. I knew his health was failing but I didn’t expect the call from the ICU nurse that told me his heart rhythm was incompatible with life. I told her to tell him I loved him and I would see him in heaven. She answered, “Oh, honey, his heart just stopped.” Again, it was a painful goodbye but one I can remember as the end of our walking together in this life.

I have other friends where the time to say goodbye is not so easily defined. How do you process the loss when the enemy is dementia, mental illness or stroke? Where do you put the occasional breakthroughs where things seem as they used to be for a brief time? I don’t know much about heaven but I look forward to eternity where we will never have to be separated and never say goodbye.

I am interested in learning about your experiences with the pain of saying goodbye.

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The Nuisances of Aging

Posted on July 22, 2011 by jroesler728

If someone asks me how I am today I will say fine. That is essentially true. A concurrent truth is that there are what I will call some nuisances that seem to be associated with aging.

I have developed an abscess on an anchor tooth that secures a bridge. The dentist told me in a very relaxed tone that I would need a root canal. I made the appointment and arrived with all the nightmare stories of root canals that I have accumulated through the years. After two hours of bracing for torture in the dental chair I was told that he was three quaraters done but I would need to make another appointment to finish. When I asked the dentist if the worst was over. He said, “Yes.” This confused me because I had not yet experienced pain unless the anticipation of pain is pain in itself.

I came back for my second appointment. This time I was there almost three hours. The dentist kept referencing an unusual curve in the canal of the tooth and a ledge that was stubborn. Finally, he indicated he had a clear access and said, “This is exciting.” With my mouth filled with a rubber dam and biting on a foam wedge I was able to respond, “Maybe for you!!”

I have one more appointment. If I can report that I have had no pain I will have a post inserted in this tooth in a couple of weeks. I am juggling being thankful for the skills of the dentist and the availability of this procedure with lamenting that I need to do this.

Concurrent with this, I woke up one morning with something in my eye. I called a local eye exam/glasses chain store and asked if someone could look in my eye and remove whatever is causing me to have blurred vision. When I arrived I found myself scheduled for a complete eye exam. I argued that I didn’t want an eye exam because my eye was blurred from whatever had landed in it during the night. I pictured myself leaving with thick trifocals. I lost the battle and succumbed to the exam.

The concluding diagnosis was that I had some scratches on my cornea of unknown origin but I was not “blind as a bat.” This was not a revelation to me as I had never considered being blind as one of the options. The optometrist did confess that since I presented with blurry vision he had to do the whole exam so that I would not sue him if he missed a serious condition.

An aging body is a nuisance in our health care system. Let’s help each other separate a nuisance from a problem and live a life of thanksgiving.

What have you complained about today that is really only a nuisance?

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My Introduction to Social Security

Posted on July 20, 2011 by jroesler728

I want to begin by saying this is NOT a political statement. Neither am I unconcerned about the potential impact that changes in Social Security benefits may bring to us. Yet, the frequent media reference to this topic stirs memories for me of the family drama that introduced me to the concept.

I need to begin by saying that my Norwegian emigrant grandmother held strong convictions. As the years passed these convictions grew stronger and attempts to modify them with reason grew more futile. Among these fiery views was one that equated financial dependence with sin. Hard work and frugal living were not choices for her; they were essential for community respect and community respect was needed to protect the family name.

Somehow as she grew older her ability to trust decreased and she began to fear we would “put her on the town.” This expression was used for people whose financial distress required the rural township they lived in to pay some of their bills. We fervently promised never to do this but she remained suspicious. Then the worst thing happened! A check from the government came in the mail addressed to my grandmother for the amount of $35. The check was accompanied by a letter explaining this amount wouldl be coming every month. It described a new eligibility for farmers who had not paid into the system. The thing was called Social Security.

It’s hard to describe in words the sense of betrayal my grandmother experienced as she was convinced we had requested this money. Her anger found colorful expressions from both her broken English and fluent native language. When efforts to explain or calm failed, we decided the easiest thing to do would be to contact Social Security and refuse the money. This decision brought a new surprise. We learned that there was no way to stop the money. The benefits could not be declined. The law required that the government issue the funds for which the person was eligible. Now what do we do? Thankfully, we learned about direct deposit.

What thoughts does this family story surface for you?

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Lessons From a Tattoo

Posted on July 18, 2011 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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Sweet Memories

Posted on July 15, 2011 by jroesler728

by Jean Roesler

Aunt Helen and Uncle Ed managed a farm for a well-known local family; but to me, it was always their farm. I loved visiting because I knew there would be cookies. My favorite was Aunt Helen’s sugar cookies which were big, soft, and of course, sugary. I could eat dozens; no wonder my nickname was Cookie Cheeks. Another favorite was the chocolate drops with chocolate frosting, topped with a walnut. Yum….

Our Sunday drives as a family often ended up with a visit to the farm. Sometimes my cousins would be there and we would play games in the fields, careful not to step on any cow pies. Dinner followed with fresh baked rolls, mashed potatoes, pot roast, and corn from the field, and fresh baked pie. How did she always have enough?

Aunt Helen and Uncle Ed were more like grandparents as mine had died when I was still young. It was Aunt Helen who stayed with my sister and me when my dad had one of his heart attacks. And Uncle Ed walked my sister down the aisle on her wedding day.

Aunt Helen would send me a birthday card every year, always with a verse from scripture. I wondered, “Why couldn’t she ever send me a funny card?”

In her later years, my mother would take Aunt Helen on weekend rides to see the fall colors. Her thoughts were always on her Lord and her writings illustrated her love and dependence on Him. My mother compiled some of her poems and other writings which I now have as a remembrance and instead of wondering why she never sent a funny card, I think of the spiritual legacy she left, and yes, the recipe for the sugar cookies!

Who in your life brings back sweet memories? Share your stories with us.

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Memories of Empowering Volunteers

Posted on July 13, 2011 by jroesler728

As I am beginning the process of shifting major ministry responsibilities to volunteers, I am finding my conversations quite familiar. I have said and done these things before. These are some of the things I learned when, as the Children’s Ministry Pastor, I was told at my hiring that I was not to do the ministry but to equip the laity to do the ministry. Claim the promise that He who called you is faithful and He will do it. Ask God to send you who He needs to do His work His way and then watch with expectancy. Remind yourself that when you recruit a volunteer you are giving them a gift.

I have never talked with anyone on his or her deathbed that regretted teaching Sunday School. In heaven, if we meet on such a basis, those you have entrusted with ministry will thank you. Make sure the assignment is big enough. It needs to be significant and just a little more than comfortable so the volunteer will experience God doing it through them. Let the volunteer know that if they succeed they will get the credit, and if they fail you will take the blame. Leaders absorb pain they do not cause pain. Remember that when you delegate you give up control. If the volunteer is working within the core ministry values let the streams flow. Have a time of formal commissioning so they are clear that this is a call from God. Do an anointing with oil and send them out with prayer. If the energy of the volunteer begins to sag, the best response is to gather them for a time of worship. I could get anyone to start teaching Sunday School but I couldn’t keep anyone teaching for any length of time. When we gathered for worship, the Holy Spirit confirmed the call and the volunteer was unstoppable.

My role, as the pastor, is to serve the volunteer. To do what I can to make it a good experience for them, to recognize God’s transforming work as they serve and to provide for their practical needs, such as access to copy machines in the evening, etc. This is servant leadership and it is very exciting. I still have people come up to me and say, “Remember when…”

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I Did All I Could

Posted on July 11, 2011 by jroesler728

I stood beside my dad. We were leaning together on the fence that formed a boundary for our pigs. We were watching the mother pig nurse her new litter. The mother pig had gradually grown to look like a big balloon. There were many places on her tummy where her newborn babies could connect their mouth for their first taste of milk.

Their bed was plain dirt at best, and mud at worst, but they all seemed happy. Well, almost all. As we watched the mother repeatedly nudge the smallest baby away from her tummy.

I asked my dad why the mother pushed the smallest one away. Dad simply said, “Because she knows that one is going to die.”

I asked Dad if I could have that one.

Dad said, “Yes, you can have it but you need to know it is going to die.”

I ran for a shoebox and padded it with a blanket. I found a little bottle with a nipple and filled it with milk. The baby pig drank. I set my alarm for every two hours during the night. During the day I had a job picking cucumbers. I carefully positioned the baby pig in the shoebox and took it with me to work leaving the pig in the sunshine at the end of my row. I picked faster than anyone so I would have time to feed the baby and still keep up with the crew.

After several days of giving my best the little pig died. I guess I had to learn what the mother pig already knew.

I’m glad for a dad that didn’t protect me from the realities of life. He let me experience pain and loss. He let me try.

The end of the story is not what I had hoped but the memory speaks to the riches of my childhood and the wisdom of my parents.

What would you answer if a child were to ask you the questions I asked my dad?

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Long Live the Challenge

Posted on July 8, 2011 by jroesler728

by Jean Roesler

Long Live the Challenge! That’s the motto of the National Senior Games. Held this past June in Houston. I was privileged to be a participant in the 5k road race representing Wisconsin for my gender/age group, females 55 to 59.

I enjoy being part of the Sr. Olympics and the National  Senior Games because it gives me a goal to exercise and stay in shape. I usually do a competitive 5k a month as a little goal to keep me going strong between the 2 year time period between Nationals. One of our pastors once said, faith is a journey and we should keep plodding along, one step after another. So as I run, I keep telling myself, just plod for Jesus. One more step, then another.

I run to try to stay healthy and stave off feeling old (or perhaps more truthfully, looking old), but the jokes on me. Over the years my times get slower, my joints ache even more, wrinkles get deeper, more brown spots come and it just plain gets harder. But then I go to Nationals and I get so inspired to see the the other more senior athletes, the oldest of which is over 100. There they are plodding along doing their best (and many doing better than me). Even with their wrinkled faces they look  beautiful to me. It makes my heart swim to see them, thankful to be there,  ready to compete, enjoying every moment.

There’s swimming, basketball, table tennis, volleyball, track and field, archery, race walking, running, shuffleboard, horseshoes and more. You will see althletic looking bodies and wonder how they manage to look so good. And you will see some where you wonder if they will make it across the finish line and, thank heavens, the medics are standing nearby.

Roselyn reminds us in her blog that our tents are only temporary, but even temporary tents need looking after. On a recent visit to Disney World I noticed a significant increase in motorized vehicles being used by seniors–almost as many as parents with baby strollers! While I’m grateful that seniors are now able to be mobile and enjoy places such as Disney, I hope that our elder society does not become the picture of the world in the movie Wall-E, where floating platforms are the only mode of transportation.

The National Games give me hope and reassurance that even withered old bodies can still rise to the challenge and compete. So long live the challenge and kudos to all the seniors who competed at the games!

How is your tent doing and what are you doing to keep your tent going strong?

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Each Time Is a New Experience

Posted on July 6, 2011 by jroesler728

I called Dottie when I learned that her husband was AGAIN being admitted to the VA hospital. I said I was sorry. Then I said, “It seems like it is just one thing after another for you.”

Her response was immediate and decisive. “Oh, no, I don’t think of it like that at all. It’s new each time.”

I felt both instructed and admonished. I have thought often of Dottie’s response and today had the opportunity to learn more about how she views her life.

She explained it to me, in a manner that evidenced her view as one she thought should be obvious to anyone. “I refuse to think of an event as repetitive. I see each time as new. It’s really the only way to live. I couldn’t stand to say, “‘O, that again.’” And, then, by way of confirming to herself that her perspective was valid she smiled and said, “It truly is different every time!”

I wonder if I could refresh my life by unwrapping the weariness of repetitive events and repackaging them into each time a new experience.

Would I be giving God room in my heart to reveal his creativity? Would I be giving myself room to grow?

What repetitive responses or events clutter your life? How would things be different if you chose to welcome each time as a new experience?

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A Kind and Giving Father

Posted on July 4, 2011 by jroesler728

by Shirlee Vandegrift

Kind and Giving Father,

We are a country based on Your principles. The beginning words of the Declaration of Independence includes the sentence, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Oh, merciful Father, how many prayers have been prayed so that we could enjoy freedom? How many prayers from around the world are raised for the same things our forefathers desired? We thank you for the gift of freedom that you have bestowed upon us.

Recently my children gave me a gift that brought tears to my eyes. It was unexpected, costly, and oh, so exciting–almost as exciting as the dog I received for Christmas when I was 11. But it could never, or would never, surpass the gifts You have given and continue to give to us, Your children: Faith, hope and love, in addition to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. You give grace and mercy and You give freedom.

Dearest Lord, we are humbled by Your generosity. Please help us use our blessings and not hoard or hide them, thereby denying those who need Your touch the most.

There is so much to talk to you about Father, and never enough time for it all. Hear our silent prayers. We want to keep our faith, worship You always, and spread the Word.

Amem

About the Author: Shirlee is one of our senior adults at Elmbrook Chruch. She was moved to commit her life to Jesus at age 65 and since then has come to have such a deep relationship with Jesus and a dynamic prayer life. Reading her prayers will produce in you a yearning to pray–to know the Father Shirlee has come to know during this decade of her life from ages 65 to 75. The prayer above is one that was published in a compliation of prayers and devotions that Shirlee wrote entitled, “A Month of Sundays.”

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