Care-givers and Care-receivers

Today I just want to give major props to all the care-givers out there. And all the care-receivers.

As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, Randy's mom is having some health issues (read her story here: Attitude is Everything). She is receiving medical treatment here in California, but her home is in New Mexico. So last week Randy and I took her there to take care of a few things that couldn't be done online from here. During that week we got a glimpse of what it would look like to be full-time caregivers.

We had a sense that the week would be challenging. In fact, on our way to pick her up for the trip Randy said to me, "No matter what happens this week, remember that I love you." Famous last words! But we didn't have a real picture of what the challenges would be, or that it would be as difficult for her as it was for us.

We took two days to make the drive. The first day was fairly uneventful. Mom has made this trip dozens of times, so she was our GPS. Pointing out landmarks, different routes she has tried, the cheapest places to get gas, the best places to eat, where to spend the night, etc. Which was really kind of fun at first (on the way home was another story, when we wanted to veer off course and have adventures that Mom was both incapable of participating in and refused to let herself enjoy).

But on the second day, as we drove through the mountains, the elevation change started to affect her. Her oxygen levels went down and, even though she fought us, we forced her to use the portable oxygen we had gotten for the trip. The night before in the hotel Randy and I had read the instructions so we would know how to work it. So while he drove us upwards of 7,000 feet, I leaned into the back to tuck the oxygen tubes over Mom's ears and turn the tank on. This battle would continue for the first couple of days after we arrived in New Mexico, with Mom assuring us she felt fine and us assuring her that the numbers showed otherwise. We didn't relent until a friend stopped by whose oxygen levels were far below Mom's and she could finally say to us "I told you so". (A conversation, of course, that will continue at her next doctor's appointment when we get the facts!)

The oxygen battle was really the least of our struggles, however. Mom's frustration that she couldn't do all the things she was used to doing is what really affected her, which she took out on us, and which she regularly apologized for.

Imagine you were used to making the same 19-hour drive several times a year on your own, driving your own car or your motor home, with your dog by your side, and seemingly out of the blue you are no longer able to drive long distances, walk your dog, get in and out of the car or even fasten your seat belt without help. We completely understood her frustration. And yet it was hard to feel like nothing we did was right or good enough or the way she would do it. So her frustration became our frustration and by the end of the week we were all ready to go our separate ways for a few days. Which, I've been told, is important for full-time caregivers to do, because in some ways it never gets easier.

Of course there were also many blessed moments of gratitude and enjoyment. Mom was grateful to us for taking the time out of our schedules to take her home, and we were grateful for the opportunity to help and to get away. We accomplished everything we set out to accomplish and those are things that will no longer be worrying her while she is away. And being away always makes us happy to come home.

So we are beginning to understand the struggle of care-givers and care-receivers, the battle over when to push and when to pull, when to show compassion and when to be stubborn, when it is okay to be frustrated and when acceptance is required.

I think the major realization I had this week was that it helps our ability to be compassionate when we recognize that the struggle is real, the frustration is real, the challenges are real -- whether you are on the receiving end or the giving end.

Every Day an Anniversary

Randy and I celebrate anniversaries all the time. That is just one of the amazing parts of our story. Because we walked together across Spain for a month, every day is the anniversary of something.

The anniversary of the day we met. The day we went to the wine fountain. The day we picnicked in a cave on the side of a mountain. The anniversary of the day we walked 50 kilometers together. The day we only walked 5. The day we met Ramon the chef. The day we met Ernesto the hospitalero. The day we got kicked out of the cathedral when the rooster wouldn't stop crowing. The day we got kicked out of the hostel when we didn't want to get out of bed. The day we had french toast. The day... the day... the day... You get the idea. Every day is worthy of a celebration.

To keep these memories alive we immediately started celebrating. One month ago today we met... Four months ago today we bought rings in Burgos... Eight months ago today we had breakfast in that little place where you had to go down the stairs to get to our table and the waitress dropped an entire tray of food in front of us... A year ago today we met mysterious John from Australia... Thirteen months ago we met those French guys in the Pyrenees who told us we would have to sleep on top of each other to keep warm and we had only known each other for three hours...

And yesterday we celebrated 16 months since we stood up in a little bar, surrounded by friends, and promised to love each other forever.

To honor this special day we got dressed up and went out for dinner.

 

We don't celebrate every day with gifts and fancy dinners, more often with conversation about our journey or text messages saying "I'm so glad we stayed in that apartment in Espinal 15 months ago." But because we had just taken a week-long road trip with two dogs, his mom, and a dozen crates full of "stuff" (anyone seen the new "Vacation" movie??), we definitely needed to honor one another and our relationship with something special.

In addition to our fancy dinner, in honor of our 16 months of love confession, I gave him a $16 gift card to Starbucks. And he gave me 16 roses.  

What I love most about these roses is that he bought a bundle of 24. Scratched out the 24 and wrote in 16. And gave the "extra" 8 roses to random people who were also shopping at Sam's Club. I love this because it is so true to his nature. And one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Because serving is such a natural part of who he is.

Attitude is Everything

"Oppression isn’t about what is external to your life;
it’s about how you respond to life." -Marilyn Hickey

In early May, Randy and I were playing a game of UNO in the waiting room, his oldest brother working on his laptop nearby, when the doctor came out and asked us as a family to go somewhere more private. He took us to what I can only think of as the "bad news room". Where he told us that Randy's mom's heart condition was more serious than he previously thought. He said there was nothing he could do. No surgeries. No medications. No restrictions. She should do what she wanted, go where she wanted, live how she wanted in the time she had left. Which he guessed was no more than six months.

We had the terrible responsibility of breaking the news to the rest of the family. And to Mom herself.

But the most incredible thing happened: she didn't believe it. At first I thought she was in denial. Like one of these days it would just all of a sudden hit her, the severity of her health condition. But week after week she showed no signs of slowing down. Perhaps it wasn't denial at all, but stubbornness and a sheer will to live.

In her mind she still has things to live for, and because of that she is determined to live to see them fulfilled.

During our visit to the doctor last week, the same doctor who gave her a less than six-month life expectancy, he said, "There is no medical explanation for how well you are doing right now." She'd just aced her walking test, her oxygen levels holding steady and nearly as high as mine. "Then why am I not sick?" she asked. "Tenacity," he said. There it was again: stubbornness and a sheer will to live.

Maybe a positive, determined attitude isn't enough to keep her going until she is 100. Maybe it isn't enough to heal her damaged heart. But it is more than enough to help her live life to the fullest for as many days as she has left.

I'm so blessed to have this woman in my life, to call her Mom, and to have the example that a positive attitude will serve you well.

Practice the Presence

I attended Bible study with 250+ women this week. We sang, we listened to a teaching by Priscilla Shirer on Luke 7:36-50, and we discussed in small groups. 

But one of the first things I noticed when entering the sanctuary was the "Reserved" seats. 

The floor of the worship center was filled with round tables, and every table had one reserved seat. The bleacher seats also had randomly assigned reserved seats.  

When the woman came to the stage to welcome us, she said we might think that the reserved seats are for our table leaders, women who are well acquainted with the Bible and therefore able to encourage deep conversation and answer questions as we go along. But that was not the case.

The seats were reserved for Jesus. A symbolic way to "practice the presence of God". 

We say that God is with us all the time. We say that God is all knowing. We say we can pray any time. But is that what we practice? Is that how we live? What if we literally gave Him a seat at the table? 

One of the questions we were asked to consider was: How would a greater awareness of God's Presence change your actions or attitudes, your use of time, work, relationships, home, etc.? 

One of the ladies at my table said she might take more consideration about what she watched on television. Another said that most of the shows make her sick. I told them that Randy and I had just commented on how many shows portray extramarital relationships, even trying to get you to root for the spouses to have affairs. (I mean, who doesn't want Louise Shepherd to hook up with the reporter on Astronaut Wives Club?!) Someone spoke up and said we've been desensitized to this stuff. Instead of trusting our hearts, that God would never want a person to have an affair, we've instead learned to justify our sins for our right to pursue "happiness". 

Some of our conversations were lighter. We talked about how busy-ness distracts us from God's Presence. We touched on how it is easier to seek God's Presence in hard times -- one woman mentioned a divorce -- than it is on the "easy" days when we think we are in control and doing quite well at managing our lives. But, on the other hand, how we can turn away from God when we've made mistakes. That it is hard to be vulnerable, to own up to our mistakes without justifying or casting blame anywhere else, but simply focusing on our choices. Even though we know God is love we also know we've let Him down. Even though we know He will forgive us we hate the fact that we've done something that needs forgiven. 

This is what I love about Bible study. Getting real with women who wrestle with the same things I wrestle with, who want to have authentic conversations, who want to deepen their relationship with God by giving Him a seat at the table. 

When the "New" becomes the Familiar

For the past couple of days I've found myself "zoning out" while driving. You know the sensation. You are driving along and then all of a sudden you find yourself at your destination and realize you "missed" a whole chunk of the drive. As if you were driving on autopilot.

I'm not sure if this is a dangerous phenomenon or not, but I have to tell you, I was so excited when it happened this week.

Why? Because it is the first time it has happened since I moved to California.

The past several months have been filled with learning road names and visual clues as to where I am going. Using the GPS and paying close attention when Randy drives (not that this is very helpful, because as a "local" he knows 12 different ways to get wherever we are going). I have had to mentally think about whether Walmart is towards Reno or Sacramento. If the mall is north or south on 65. And if there are any turns to get to church.

Nine months ago I would never have dreamed that I'd be so confident in my ability to find my way that I'd have these moments where I didn't even have to think about where I was going. I would simply get in the car and go.

It's a reminder to me that whatever situation we find ourselves in, however lost or disoriented we feel, however discouraged or overwhelmed, those feelings won't last forever. The job that is filled with new tasks, I will someday be a "pro" at. The street names will one day be on the tip of my tongue. The relationship that is difficult will not always be so hard.

That is -- as long as we stay the course.

Because we do always have the option to give up. To quit the job or the relationship or the new city. To never leave the house or refuse to take on new tasks or fail to communicate. But then we'll never know the satisfaction and encouragement of pushing through those hard times and entering in to a season of comfort and familiarity and blessing.

To Complain, or To Compliment...

Yesterday I was sitting in the church sanctuary, surrounded by thousands of people, when the woman praying invited us to open our hearts to a way we could grow closer to God. Immediately I thought, "I know it isn't Lent, but I feel like I should fast from complaining."

Somewhere along the way complaint has become a habit of mine, and a bad one. Not out of the intent to be malicious, but more to be funny.

Not a minute had passed since I'd prayed this "breath prayer" (you know, a short prayer, one that can be said with one breath and should really be as natural a form of conversation with God as breathing), when the man next to me signaled for my attention.

The worship center was already packed when I had arrived, the lights dimmed while the band played and everyone was on their feet, so an usher picked a random seat for me. There appeared to be two seats available, but the man in the third seat told me his group was saving the second seat for a friend. It was just me because Randy had to work, so I took the aisle seat. But then when his friend arrived, he let her sit in the third seat and he took the seat next to me. We stood side by side for about 10 minutes of singing before the praying woman asked us to sit down and invited us to think about how we could be closer to God.

So, after I've said to myself I should complain less, this guy says to me, "I'm really glad I sat next to you. You have a beautiful voice and I like to hear you sing."

Wow! It was like God tapping me on the shoulder and saying "doesn't a compliment serve you better than a complaint!"

Of course my second thought was to comment about how many people in the room couldn't sing and should be told that just because the music is loud doesn't mean they should sing along, but I held my tongue. Progress!

Then Lincoln Brewster gets up and gives this awesome sermon about how we need to get a new mindset:

Those who live according to the flesh have their MINDS SET on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their MINDS SET on what the Spirit desires. (Romans 8:5)

He said our thoughts lead to actions, which lead to habits, which lead to a lifestyle, which ultimately leads to our destiny.

Do I want a destiny filled with complaining? Or one filled with compliments?

Habits are hard to break, but we can break them. First, I can keep my mouth shut when I think of something to complain about. Then, I can begin to replace those complaints with compliments. And pretty soon, compliments will be my default thoughts instead of complaints, which will reap a much more positive life and destiny for me!

Don't you just love it when God works everything together like that to confirm that you are headed in the right direction?

Inside Out

Last night we went to see "Inside Out". There were less than a handful of children in the packed theater. This "kids movie" is definitely not just for kids.

In short, it is about a family that move from Nebraska to California and all of the emotions that go along with a move, changing jobs and schools and friends and homes.

Feelings are confusing. Especially when you experience more than one at a time. Excitement about new experiences; fear that you won't make new friends; anger when things don't go according to plan; sadness at all that you have to leave behind in order to do the new thing that still -- in the midst of your sadness and anger and fear -- excites you.

For the first time, Pixar tells us we can have all these emotions at once, that it is normal, even preferred. That joy, in fact, is not always the best emotion for our circumstances.

But there are still lots of reasons why we don't want to be honest about our feelings.

When I first moved to California, it was the holiday season and Randy had to work long hours. I didn't want to tell him that I was angry or afraid or sad that I never got to see him, because I was afraid he would think I regretted my choice to move here or that I was unwilling to accept the fact that his catering schedule fluctuates with the season. I was overjoyed to be here, but lots of other emotions too.

We all know people whose lives appear "perfect" on social media, because they are afraid if they show even a hint of sadness or anger or fear that their whole castle will crumble. But this tends to make us think they aren't in need of our prayers and so we are less likely to reach out to them.

Others are afraid to show any signs of joy when they are going through a trial, because we aren't supposed to have happy days when we are in the midst of a divorce, a loved one just died, or some other tragedy. We don't want to appear shallow, like we don't care about the heartache, and so we force ourselves to wait the "appropriate" amount of time before we start to admit there are moments of joy in every day.  

We could go on and on with examples, but the truth is, it's not healthy to live in only one emotion. To always be angry, or always be afraid, or always be sad, or even to always be happy. And it's not good to pretend to the world that we are only one way all the time.

My big takeaway from the movie is that we have to be honest about our feelings. And we have to let others be honest about their feelings. We can't serve one another without being honest.

All the Bells and Whistles

I've always heard people say that church doesn't need all the bells and whistles, that church shouldn't "entertain" you, and because I've always heard this I've always assumed it was true. That there was nothing more in line with what God wanted for the church than the starkness of a Quaker meetinghouse.

But recently the church we frequent has opened another campus (I think this makes four campuses total), where we've visited the past two Sundays. And I'm beginning to see the bells and whistles in new light.

This week, as I was sitting in an Adirondack chair in "Central Park", enjoying the breakfast I had brought with me (even though they have a full cafe on site) before the first crashing of drums and wailing of guitars signaled that worship was beginning, I became grateful for the "world" that the church had created inside this old furniture warehouse.

Around me people were in conversation, seated in chairs, at cafe tables, or on the "grass". Kids were crawling and climbing on the play set. People were in long lines for coffee and the bathroom. And I thought:

What a beautiful reminder that church isn't confined to the one hour on Sunday that you sit in an uncomfortable chair and listen to someone tell you about Jesus.    

Church is that hour, but it is also the other 167 hours of the week.

It is how you act when you are waiting in line, be it for coffee or the bathroom or to buy a packet of gum in the one line at Walmart that is open and you are stuck standing behind someone who clearly thinks the apocalypse (or the Super Bowl, 4th of July, first of the month, family reunion, etc.) is happening today.

It's how you treat your loved ones behind closed doors.

It is how you act, and how your kids act, when they are at the playground.

It is in your willingness to serve others and how you treat those who serve you.

It is how you behave at work and on your lunch break and while stuck in rush hour traffic on the way home (which is pretty equivalent to trying to get out of a parking lot when church lets out).

I love the church that we attend. I love the Bible-based teaching. I love the rock and roll worship. I love that the building is open all week, so people can play and eat and worship and experience more of Jesus daily. I love that the atmosphere reminds me that "service" is not limited to one hour on Sunday morning.