Moments in the Healthcare Setting

There have been many eventful moments I have been privileged to share with patients hospitalized for myriad reasons, and also with individuals involved in the hospice experience.  Sometimes, the clients have shared personal thoughts and fears.  And quite often, when conversing with those in their last months of life, people have shared inspirational moments.

Here are a few incidents of spiritual, or ironic, or pleasant, or perhaps even humorous moments recalled with people who were ill:

• One patient shared that she knew the secret for a happy life in some of her last verbalized thoughts.
• A 96 year old woman who was raised on a ranch once asked if I had ridden my horse over to see her. (This occured in 2009 in an urban setting.)
• An elderly gentleman reportedly asked why Joe Biden was pitching for a televised baseball game he was watching from his recliner.
• A younger woman was having simultaneous conversations with people in the room that I could not see, but she was sure were present.  It appeared to be a one-sided from where I was sitting, but who was I to question it?
• My personal dream when I believed I had died, only to awaken to realize that I was still living. That dream had me puzzled for quite a while.
• A frightened, elderly patient who wanted someone to sit with her, but no conversation would be allowed. ( her wishes were followed.)
• One young man said that he imagined I was a "pretty hot babe" when I was younger. (love this one...how much younger?)
• One woman explained how she was not afraid of death, because she had a near-death experience when she was a teenager.  She was fully expecting and embracing her life after death.
• A friend who told me shortly before she died that she wanted me to do everything I could to make a happy life.  (That conversation could take a lifetime to interpret.)
• A patient with whom the pup and I were visiting shared her last hours with us as we sat on her bed; she stroked Libby Sweetpea between times of lucidity and murmured for us to please stay for a while.
• The painting below tries to capture the last days of a friend's life in a hospital bed as he struggled for breath, yet with his assurance that he would come into eternal life.  He was Catholic, and looking forward to release from this earth:

(original oil by N. McCarroll, 2002)

Along this line, a poem written by Dietrich Bonhöffer, a young theologian of great promise and was martyred by the Nazis for his participation in a plot against the life of Adolf Hitler. He wrote Who Am I? in 1946:

Beginning stanza: Who am I? They often tell me I stepped from my cell’s confinement Calmly, cheerfully, firmly, Like a squire from his country-house. ..... Ending stanza: Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine. Whoever I am, Thou knowest, 0 God, I am Thine!

The entire poem can be found here. 

A reference about Victor Frankl's book Man's Search for Meaning:

Life is not primarily a quest for pleasure, as Freud believed, or a quest for power, as Alfred Adler taught, but a quest for meaning. The greatest task for any person is to find meaning in his or her life. Frankl saw three possible sources for meaning: in work (doing something significant), in love (caring for another person), and in courage during difficult times. Suffering in and of itself is meaningless; we give our suffering meaning by the way in which respond to it…Forces beyond our control can take away everything we possess except one thing, our freedom to choose how we will respond to the situation. We cannot control what happens to us in life, but we can always control what we will feel and do about what happens to us.

This post on others who have come through difficult situations comes to mind as our daughter Julie is awaiting surgery today at Carolinas Medical Center for an AV shunt revision.  Your prayers for her well being are appreciated.

Julie with Muggsy, 2009

Ash Wednesday

A solemn day in the ecumenical calendar, today is the day when

the priest, dipping his thumb into ashes previously blessed, marks the forehead -- or in case of clerics upon the place of the tonsure -- of each the sign of the cross, saying the words: "Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return." The ashes used in this ceremony are made by burning the remains of the palms blessed on the Palm Sunday of the previous year.

From Rock Hill, SC the Herald reports this is a day when Christians

“...confront our frailness, our failures,” ...“and the ashes symbolize our broken dreams.”

Services will start today around sunrise and will go far past nightfall. It will happen all over the earth. People with ashes on their foreheads dispersing into the day and night to try to make a world of record unemployment, broken dreams, and foreclosures.

The ashes do not always inspire.

“One time, years ago in Rock Hill, so many people left a service at the Oratory on Ash Wednesday and went to the old Revco pharmacy there in the Beatty Plaza on Cherry Road...the clerk thought it was a cult coming in. She called the police.”

The cops came to find people with gray forehead smears in the shape of the cross, hands clasped in prayer. There was no cult.

Just hope.

Fabriano: Adoration of the Magi

Another cropping of an iconic picture by Gentile de Fabriano (1385-1427) entitled Adoration of the Magi seems appropriate to display on Christmas Eve.  The entire panel is 300 x 282 cm and is housed at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy.

Double click on the picture to see the remarkable detail of emotion portrayed on the faces of the adorers.

St. Francis of Assisi: Blessing of the Animals

Sunday was a special day for all our animal companions as it was the day of  the Blessing of the Animals, a tradition set aside to honor St. Francis of Assisi.  This Blessing of the Animals was given in recognition of God's love for all creatures, and acknowledging that humans are helped by animals.

Oct. 4 is the day set aside to honor St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226). St. Francis had a great love for all of God's creatures, and for many years a blessing of animals has been held on his feast day. The appreciation of animals is part of celebrating the creative love that God has bestowed on the world. Blessing the animal companions honors how God touches humans through each creature.

St. Francis is not the only saint who loved animals. In drawings found in medieval manuscripts, there are images of early animal blessings performed by St. Anthony the Abbott (also known as St. Anthony of Egypt), who lived in the third century. The first formal church-organized animal blessings were held in Rome in the early 20th century...

Yesterday, at St. Matthew's Episcopal Church in Grand Junction, there was a special service to bless the animals.

Click on links below if you want to learn more about how our Therapy Dog Libby goes about her day, and information about Therapy Dog International:.

Crafting Good Behavior

Nursing Home

Therapy Dogs International

Libby's Work Day (a video)

A recent communication from Hospice and Palliative Care of Western Colorado relayed the need for additional dogs for use with their patients.  Contact Judy in Grand Junction at 970-241-2212 for further information if you would like to offer your dog and yourself as hospice dog team volunteers.

Cause and Effect- Karma? Reaping What is Sown

Our neighbors complained for two years about a healthy elm tree in our back yard. Its branches reached over the fence between the Hatfields and McCoys (i.e., them vs. us). The biggest complaint was that this tree allowed its seeds to fall onto their lawn and created unsightly new elm growth in the middle of their manicured masterpiece of green grass. The neighbors went to the extreme of writing a nasty note about this situation, publishing it in the local newspaper, and sending us a copy to be sure we had seen it. And one day, an envelope was mailed to us with seeds from an elm tree tucked inside the package, apparently gleaned from the offensive tree in our yard.

Yes, obviously, these people had way too much time on their hands.

Long story short, the healthy, shady and lovely elm tree was removed from our yard.

Moving on to the summer of 2009, it is ironic that a dead tree (five times as large as our offending elm) just happens to create an unsightly nuisance for our neighborhood. And it is on their property. The cost to remove the tree will be around $4,000 since access to the tree is limited.

Although this is not the particular tree, here is a representative picture of the huge cottonwood now residing in their back area, creating a nuisance for them:

Which brings up this thought from What You Receive is What You Give ...

In both Hinduism and Buddhism, every action has consequences. When a pebble falls into a pool, it produces rings that spread throughout the whole pool. A butterfly fluttering its wings can produce a typhoon, under the right conditions.

In the same way, our actions cause cosmic vibrations that affect not only this life but our lives to come. What we do not learn in this life must be learned in the next. Harm we cause in this life will come back to us in the next. The universe is relentless. It will not let us get away with anything.

To read more about the poor little elm and its demise in 2007, go to my husband's posting about the elm tree ruthlessly yanked from the ground.

Moral of the story: one living tree demolished two years ago, replaced by one dead tree whose removal will require a huge financial outlay for the neighbors.

What you reap, that shall you sow gives an insightful look into this proverb.

Affirmation Journal - Keeping Centered

Over thirty years ago, my mother was making affirmation journals, although that term would never have come to her mind. In looking over one such book she had compiled, and wondering if others had made similar journals, it took me on a search to find information about an Affirmation Journal.

Keeping positive thoughts and quotations cut out from newspapers and magazines was mom's forte - remember that was in the day prior to computers when we actually held books in our hands for reading. Whenever she came across a written thought or even a paragraph that she knew she would like to re-read in the future, she would clip it from Sunday morning church bulletins, newsletters or even copy by hand her favorite scripture passages. Then she would paste these little snippets into a blank book for further pondering. She also illustrated portions of the books she put together with her own artwork. It was an activity from which she gained much benefit, as she battled depression her entire lifetime.

Looking through her journals today and seeing her signature watercolors makes me smile long after she has died. While working on a psychiatric hospital mental health team a few years ago, I used this form of "paper and reading craft" in helping severely depressed clients. Giving each patient the knowledge that positive affirmations kept in the forefront of our spirits is an aid to better mental health, and then teaching this simple act of clipping and pasting, proved to be a valuable teaching activity. Call it occupational therapy if you wish; affirmation journal making was engaging and helpful in channeling innermost thoughts toward a higher plane of purpose.

One client told me it was the most helpful thing she learned in her seeking solutions for greater well being. In gratitude, she showed me her newly begun personal clip-and-paste book that she had started while hospitalized. What a humbling satisfaction it was for me to learn this particular activity passed on by my mother was yet helping someone else a third generation later.

Above are some pictures of the pages of Ann McCarroll's journal. I hope you enjoy them, and perhaps this simple idea may set you on your own personal journey of seeking, saving and reviewing affirmations.

...one of my favorite affirmations: "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me". Philippians 4:13

Dying Alone, a Memorial Cairn

Dying alone...it is a phenomenon that is not unusual. Perhaps you have not thought of this issue.

One provocative post can be read at the "Elderly Living and Dying Alone. Sadly, too many of us leave this world with no one at our side. "Elder orphans" are discussed in the article:

"the number of Americans between the ages of 70 and 85, without a living spouse, without any biological or stepchildren, and without living siblings or half-siblings, will total more than 2 million people by the year 2030."

One such person who died alone yesterday was Leona Taylor. Although I did not know Leona very well, the facts were that she had no family still living, having had her husband precede her in death ten years ago. She was 92 years old, and had few visitors come see her in the nursing home other than hospital and hospice staff. She must have been a Christian, since she asked that the Bible be read to her in her last days. And Leona liked dogs. Therapy Dog Libby Sweetpea and I visited her in working with the local Hospice & Palliative Care over the past few months, and knew that only health issues occupied her time during our visits. No funeral services were planned.

Thinking about her life and knowing she had few mourners, it seemed some tribute should be made to her long life.

On my morning walk yesterday, I constructed a rock cairn memorial (a place of meditation and reflection according to Rock Cairns). Although it looks a bit crude, it was made with respect as a memory to her life; it is a tangible awareness that someone is thinking of her as she continues her journey into eternal life.

In Memory of Leona Taylor (1916-2009); Rest in Peace

What will you leave behind as your legacy? It is a thought provoking question.

Prayer Garden, Iris Blooming

Welcome to my garden spot in Grand Junction, Colorado. Here is a quick tour...

Don't blink. Beneath the wall the bearded irises are in bloom, the tall uppermost petals so gauzy, so delicate, that each bloom, once opened, lasts hardly longer than a day. Look, you can almost see through them. As fleeting as a rainbow, and with the same rain-washed colours, they were named after Iris, the messenger of the gods, who as a rainbow linked heaven and earth. It's the same derivation as the iris of the human eye, the coloured membrane which separates the inner from the outer chamber. Both have the same mysterious, shifting, shimmering quality, the colours depending on the viewpoint of the observer, one colour flecked by, veined with, shot through with another.
... excerpted from The Morville Hours, by Katherine Swift (Walker & Company)

This is where I like to sit in the late afternoon, when the sun casts long shadows:


This is a plaque my mother had in her garden for several years, and one which I fondly display:


This garden spot provides the space and quiet environment for devotional time. Many people that I've come in contact with over the past days are remembered here, as well as prayers for friends and family who are near and far away. Our clients who benefit through therapy dog visits, including hospice patients, the inpatients and outpatients at St. Mary's Hospital, clients at the regional center, blogging buddies, those whom I keep up with on Care Pages are all remembered and prayed for, some especially in this garden.

Please come visit us here sometime soon. I would very much enjoy your company.

Lorica, A Poem by St. Patrick (c. 377 A.D.)

Today is my father's 90th birthday. He is celebrating it with all his family and friends in north Texas. Needless to say, Dad has seen much change occur in his life since 1919, the year he was born.

He has self published his memoirs in two booklet forms over the past ten years, with the help of his wife, Pat, and my brother John. His stories range in length from one page to several pages of typed information, and he loves to regale his audiences with sagas from the past.

Upon my return home after the birthday festivities, I will publish some of his stories on my blog. He might like to see some of his writing on the world wide web, an unimagined possibility at the time of his birth almost a century ago. And a few of his memories just might be interesting to readers!

One thing that has not changed in Dad's life is his Christian faith, and his belief in an enduring life after death. My grandmother, an old time prayer warrior, made sure he had a Biblical grounding.

In honor of his birthday and as he goes toward the century mark, here is the incantation Lorica, especially dedicated to him. It can be found on the internet at Christianity Today. It was a prayer written by Saint Patrick (ca. 377 A.D.) over 1,600 years ago, but is as timely now as it was then.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In preachings of the apostles,
In faiths of confessors,
In innocence of virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven;
Light of the sun,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of the wind,
Depth of the sea,
Stability of the earth,
Firmness of the rock.

I arise today
Through God's strength to pilot me;
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's way to lie before me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's hosts to save me
From snares of the devil,
From temptations of vices,
From every one who desires me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone or in a multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,
Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of women and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.
Christ shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through a belief in the Threeness,
Through a confession of the Oneness
Of the Creator of creation.

(Picture courtesy of Lilly Oncology On Canvas, 2008 competition.)

Happy Birthday, Charles W. McCarroll, Patriarch of the McCarroll clan!

(More information about St. Patrick can be found at Catholic Organization.)

Hallelujah Chorus

Good Friday Artwork

Good Friday, a most holy day in the Christian spiritual year, has been depicted in artwork over the centuries. Each work shows some form of Jesus' love, sacrifice, or death before resurrection.

This first work, a print of an original woodcut made by Sister Mary Grace Thul, (Caterina Benincasa Dominican Monastery, Dominican Nuns) shows Jesus washing a disciple's feet the night of the Last Supper. A print can be purchased at this site.

This stained glass picture came from Church Year. It shows the grief of Mary while placing Jesus' body in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea.

Frederick Buechner talks about the symbol of Easter being the empty tomb. Please listen to Buechner speaking his 3 minute essay at 30 Good Minutes.

Windmill Ministries says:

The gospels mention that after the crucifixion Jesus was buried in the tomb of Joseph of Arimathea. On Easter morning that tomb was found empty. Finding an empty tomb by itself does not prove a resurrection, however it is an essential confirmation that the resurrection really happened.

This stained glass artwork was found at The Road Least Taken.

Good Friday is the Friday within Holy Week, and is traditionally a time of fasting and penance, commemorating the anniversary of Christ's crucifixion and death. For Christians, Good Friday commemorates not just a historical event, but the sacrificial death of Christ, which with the resurrection, comprises the heart of the Christian faith.

Have a blessed Good Friday.

Felted Bowls as Blessing Bowls

Last year I whipped up five or six felted bowls with directions from the book One Skein, 30 Quick Projects to Knit and Crochet, by Leigh Radford (Interweave Press). Back in the spring last year I blogged about the book here, and said that felting was a fun project since all kinds of mistakes in knitting can be camouflaged simply by the way the shrinkage factor covers blunders.

One of the bowls I made is just perfect to be given to my friend undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer. I filled it with candies and attached a little cross tied on to it with a pink ribbon, and filled it with peppermint candies. Here is the card I copied, with a verse from Walt Whitman, that she may enjoy pondering:

The quotation by Whitman is: "The strongest and the sweetest songs yet remain to be sung."

That is something to think about, isn't it? So if you feel you are used up and tired, remember that there is more life ahead!

Hopefully, a Blessing Bowl is the right gift given at the right time (later today, while she is undergoing treatment) for my friend Carole. This site: Eclectic Gallery gives a summarization of my heartfelt thoughts being conveyed to Carole with this bowl:

The Blessing Bowl is a vessel to share caring, love, thoughtfulness, compassion, joy, feelings, gratitude, and more. The Blessing Bowl... holds written acknowledgment of the blessings in your life.... it is a given as a gift of gratitude, a way to connect with our spirituality, a customized gift that celebrates life's blessings.

So often we forget to tell people in our life how much they mean, the Blessing Bowl gives you the opportunity to tell them how important they are.

This is Carole's gift, along with an attached charm in the shape of a cross that was purchased at the local craft store:

"The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and great in mercy. The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all His works." (Psalm 145:8)

Mending with Vintage Fabrics; Mending Hearts

Susan Cooke Kittredge, senior minister at the Old Meeting House, Vermont (daughter of Alistair Cook, whose “LETTER FROM AMERICA” was the longest-running commentary series in history.) Excerpted from “We ALL NEED MENDING” on THIS I BELIEVE, aired on National Public Radio in February, 2008, I would like to copy her writing here because I believe it to be valuable.

After reading through Kittredge's thoughts, I am posting a picture of my favorite work shirt which has been mended over many times with old linens. Each vintage piece incorporates beautiful embroidery work done many years ago by women whom I will never having the privilege of knowing.

by Susan Kittredge, taken from National Public Radio:

Like most women of her generation, my grandmother, whom I called Nonie, was an excellent seamstress. Born in 1879 in Galveston, Texas, she made most of her own clothes. Widowed at 43 and forced to count every penny, she sewed her three daughters' clothes and some of their children's, as well. I can knit but I cannot sew new creations from tissue-paper patterns. Whenever I try, I break out in a sweat and tear the paper. It clearly requires more patience, more math, more exactitude than I seem willing or capable of giving.

Recently, though, I have come to relish the moments when I sit down and, somewhat clumsily, repair a torn shirt, hem a skirt, patch a pair of jeans, and I realize that I believe in mending. The solace and comfort I feel when I pick up my needle and thread clearly exceeds the mere rescue of a piece of clothing. It is a time to stop, a time to quit running around trying to make figurative ends meet; it is a chance to sew actual rips together. I can't stop the war in Iraq,

I can't reverse global warming, I can't solve the problems of my community or the world, but I can mend things at hand. I can darn a pair of socks. Accomplishing small tasks, in this case saving something that might otherwise have been thrown away, is satisfying and, perhaps, even inspiring.

Mending something is different from fixing it. Fixing it suggests that evidence of the problem will disappear. I see mending as a preservation of history and a proclamation of hope. When we mend broken relationships, we realize that we're better together than apart, and perhaps even stronger for the rip and the repair.

When Nonie was 78 and living alone in a small apartment in New Jersey, a man smashed the window of her bedroom where she lay sleeping and raped her. It was so horrific, as any rape is, that even in our pretty open, highly verbal family, no one mentioned it. I didn't learn about it for almost five years. What I did notice, though, was that Nonie stopped sewing new clothes. All she did was to mend anything she could get her hands on as though she could somehow soothe the wound, piece back together her broken heart, soul and body by making sure that nothing appeared unraveled or undone as she had been.

Mending doesn't say, "This never happened." It says instead, as I believe the Christian cross does, "Something or someone was surely broken here, but with God's grace it will rise to new life." So too my old pajamas, the fence around the garden, the friendship torn by misunderstanding, a country being ripped apart by economic and social inequity and a global divide of enormous proportions — they all need mending.

I'm starting with the pajamas.

Each time I mend, I think of Susan Cooke Kittredge and her thoughtful commentary.

This is my work shirt that is in a constant state of "mending", because each time the shirt is washed, some of the vintage embroidery work frays. Those torn pieces are covered over with newer pieces of linens, be it hankies, pieces of antique tablecloths or napkins or even old table runners.

Just like the repairing of this shirt, I believe we are in a continual state of mending over wounds, be it in the loss of expectations or ways in which we have disappointed others and ourselves.

It is something to think about.

My Life is But a Weaving (by Grant Colfax Tullar); A Crown as a Visual Aid

Through an exciting exchange of emails beginning in October with Lynda Jones, a lovely young Christian mother living in Ireland, I was introduced to Pam Rosewell Moore, a Christian author of five books, artist, and public speaker. Lynda found me through a prior blog posting and asked that I create a new visual aid for Pam Moore's Christian ministry.

Please visit Moore's website at PamRosewellMoore to read more about her background in the UK and caring for Corrie ten Boom during the last years of her life when she lived in the Netherlands. Moore's current ministry, book excerpts and a calendar of her speaking tours are also found at Pam Rosewell Moore's website.

Mrs. Moore, in a recent email, asked me to create a similar work of an embroidered crown as a visual aid to be used when she provides a testimonial and speaks about her experiences as companion to Corrie ten Boom. (Mrs. Moore as a companion and care giver to Corrie ten Boom during the last seven years of ten Boom's life.)

In part, Moore's email said:

Tante Corrie used the visual aid (of an embroidered crown to great effect ... it is not a tapestry, but a soft pliable, able-to-be-folded embroidery.

I am sending to you ... small pictures which depict the crown embroidery which Corrie used at the end of her speaking days. She had travelled all over the world for more than three decades and this was not the only crown used. She wore the embroideries out, I am sure!

The back of the crown, as you will see on the picture, is a muddle of threads, made even more muddled by Corrie who when she received the crown from whoever had undertaken to embroider one for her, would add extra threads to make the visual picture as confusing as possible … so that the upper side was given the more clarity. Corrie turned the embroidery several times from upper to underside as she quoted the poem “My life is but a weaving…”

Here is the original wording of the poem, supplied by Moore:
The Weaver

My Life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the underside.

Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
Who choose to walk with Him. (Grant Colfax Tullar)

These are pictures of the process I undertook to make a replica of a crown embroidered piece which Pam Rosewell Moore can use in her current speaking ministry:

1) The project starting with an antique, hand made, crocheted, heirloom doily with cream color tatting. I only wish I could give credit to the creator of this fine piece of handwork, but it came to me through a friend who did not know its origin;

2) And then adding a few supplies of yarns, threads, buttons, beads, threads and other embellishments and needlework, the work began;

3) I completed an embroidered crown, complete with beading and shiny glass embellishments on the top side of the visual aid, along with a tangled web of gold and silver threads on the underside, symbolic of the poem and God's unrevealed plan for those who choose to walk with Him.

This finished visual aid shown below will be sent to Pam Rosewell Moore.

The project was a bit daunting at first, but quickly completed once the ideas jelled. It will hopefully be what Mrs. Moore requested.

Teaching Prayer to Children; O Holy Night Video

By praying, ourselves, we fulfill the desire we have as human beings to know the God in whose image we are made. Something in us wants to know God. “Our hearts are restless,” Saint Augustine says, “until they rest in you.”

By praying, we rest in God. As our children learn to communicate with God, they too find this special place of rest.

For more information about children and prayer, go to Teaching Children to Pray.



Music by Selah from the album "Rose of Bethlehem" and image sync by my new friend in Ireland, Lynda Jones

Integrity in the Game of Life and the Board Game Scrabble

Over 110 participants from throughout Canada and the US met in Calgary for the Western Canadian Scrabble Championship held from October 15-19, 2008. It was a marvelous time of competition and camaraderie. One incident discussed later in this post was the only unsavory incident.

More information about the National Scrabble Association (NSA) can be found here. Schools are getting in the swing of hosting Scrabble clubs, so younger people are finding satisfaction in the game at earlier ages.

There is even internet Scrabble(c) on line in case you would like to play on the computer with another person at a separate terminal, sometimes several thousands of miles from your home port. Online internet Scrabble (c) can be found through this link: Internet Scrabble Club (ISC). It is free of charge to join this computer site. ISC and WordBiz (c) is free and easy to download to your computer. Just read through the help section, and you will be ready to play anyone from all over the world, and in many languages. If you would like to play WordBiz (c)...Scrabble (c) and need help, just leave a comment and I will get back with you.


Scrabble tournaments are held every week, sometimes two or three a weekend, almost anywhere in the States and Canada. Countries outside North American also have Scrabble active clubs and tournament. Newsletters are sent to the participating NSA members at a cost of $20 a year. Again, check out the website here for further details.

Above is a picture of players awaiting a game to start after a short break. Chess clocks (an updated version used in tournament play is the Sam Timer) are used to count the allowed time of 25 minutes per person to complete a game. Point penalties are assessed for any portion of a minute over the allowed time.

I took a few pictures from the game room and at the fun dinner party which Calgary Director Siri Tillekeratne and many others in Alberta both directed and hosted over the past weekend. The tournament was excellent overall, with a total of 8 games in each of two early bird tournaments, and 21 games played in the main tournament. Our tournament hosts were friendly, efficient and professional. They put a lot of effort into running this meet. Thank you!

Calgary was beautiful, the weather was nice, and the fall colors were still in force. My hostess and friend, Darlene, even took me to Chinatown!

My second day of tournament play was slightly marred by a spoil sport whose main focus was to win at games, no matter the cost. Sadly, there are cheaters out there; amidst the intellectual realms of science, medicine, industry, spirituality and even in the board game of Scrabble, people sometimes perform unsavory actions in order to win at the game.

Cheating is an ugly thing. It demeans everyone involved in the act; the perpetrator may or may not have a conscience or concern about the act of cheating, which is maddeningly aggravating. But the ramifications on others is even more profound. Being duplicitous creates heartache not only for the people involved in the hoax, but also has effects long term effects on others. Stress and other debilitating resulting ramifications of leading a double life and lying can be damaging even on future generations. I speak from experience on this topic.

Integrity, keeping promises, being faithful to vows and being a decent human being are all too often not the main focus of our daily lives. We have to constantly keep our humility, seek the higher ground, and do what is right, even if it is costly in unimaginable ways.

Remember this?:

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, c.1920 (from this reference)

We are about as content as we choose to be. My happiness is outside the boundaries of being wronged. Fortunately, the unpleasantness over a board game is neither critical to either my ego or self worth.

This being stated, cheating perpetrated by one of my opponents was still an unpleasant experience.

Dharma says it all.

In Memoriam to Terry Fine and Flo Gallagher

Yesterday, a tragedy happened in our community, and to my friend Linda. (see Daily Sentinel)

In times of grief, Corrie Ten Boom, survivor of the Holocost, quoted this poem:

Life is But a Weaving

My life is but a weaving
Between my God and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaveth steadily.

Oft’ times He weaveth sorrow;
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.

Not ‘til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And reveal the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares;
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives the very best to those
Who leave the choice to Him.

Anonymous (as quoted by Corrie Ten Boom)

(Painting: The Weaver, by Vincent Van Gogh)

Corrie ten Boom used an illustration about a tapestry weaving . She had a tapestry sample that she insisted always be presented wrong side up. On the back, the weaving was all a jangled, discordant, ugly mess. But the result on the right side was beauty. Sometimes, we see too much or only the back side in our time/space dimension. God the weaver arranges each thread to His standards . . . often seemingly insensitive to how jangled or even pained we are by a given thread placement. But the result is our being conformed more to the image of His Son--that we might bear a greater weight of glory in eternity--ruling and reigning with Him.(found in freerepublic postings)

Trusting God is our only hope in many of life's situations. My deepest condolences for these losses to all friends and family of the Fines and Gallaghers.

My love and prayers are with you, Linda.

(This is a photographic representation of the embroidered illustration that Corrie Ten Boom used in her often quoted poem.)

Orientation at Hospice and Palliative Care of Western Colorado

The last three days of my life were spent in twenty-six hours of volunteer orientation for Hospice. They were intense hours investigating hospice, from the origin of the concept right down to the brass tacks of our local community-wide effort to help people manage …“physical, psychosocial and spiritual symptoms resulting in optimal comfort and quality of life for persons impacted by a serious illness.” In essence, that is the explanation of Palliative Care and Hospice, according to a handout given during the learning session (from Hospice and Palliative Care of Western Colorado, 2008).

(See previous post about Cups, the coffee house owned and operated by Hospice of Western Colorado.)

Briefly highlighted in this orientation were teaching lessons and interactive activities including:

Hospice Pioneers and its History, Missions and Vision; Serving our Communities, Living our Values, Critical Thinking, Self Care, Therapeutic Communication, Safety Issues, Ethics and Boundaries, Advanced Concepts of Grief, Interdisciplinary Care Planning, Spiritual Care, Communication Activities, Introduction to Grief, Organizational Ethics, HIPAA and Information Technology

As you might think, much information was covered in three days.

To obtain a more complete view of our local hospice, visit Hospice of Western Colorado. The website is extensive and gives lots of information.

One exercise I thought was most valuable during the orientation session concerned "loss". The result of the teaching and completion of the questionnaire helped portray just an inkling of what true loss might mean when facing the end of life.

Here is the exercise: a five square by five square grid was filled out by each participant. The squares were to be filled (left to right) with five items or concepts regarded as ...

Most Prized or Useful Material Possession;
Most Important Activities;
Favorite Places, e.g., nature ;
Most Valued Body Parts;
5 Beloved Relationships in Your Life

With the toss of a die, and each player enabled to toss the die, grids were X’d out as the numbers fell. One by one, a prized possession, a life activity, a favorite place, a body part or a beloved relationship was lost to the roll of the die. You see where this is going?

After thirty minutes of dice rolling, half of the valued concepts were gone. Actually, more than half were gone, by implication. If one of your valued body parts such as your eyes were lost to the toss of the dice, then your car (a prized possession) would also be lost, since you would no longer be able to drive. One loss compounds other losses.

Here is my grid.
I found this an exercise which made me even more grateful for those privileges that I am currently allowed.

Why not complete this same mental exercise, fill in the squares, and think about your own gifts and mercies? I guarantee it is an eye opener.

For Everything There is A Time and a Season

For everything, there is a time and a season. Ecclesiastes, Chapter Three:

1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

The past week has been high drama for family and friends with health crises and simultaneous emotional upheavals. I have been away from home for a while, trying to help. I don't know how much help I gave, but at least I offered distraction and prayer.

Podcasts of craftlit and pray-as-you-go and knitting, of course, are some of my coping mechanisms to help maintain mental stability. Time to just listen to meditations and time for reflection are gifts which I have been given during this time. While knitting, I have been able to offer prayers and selected thoughts for family and friends facing difficult situations.

And I've decided over the past week that for this new autumnal season, I want to tackle a different and challenging project: an (easily) knit lace shawl.

I found a complete tutorial which sounds like it would be pretty and one that I could finish within a reasonable time frame. Never mind that I still have one beaded sock and a sweater to finish before starting the shawl!

A preview of (white) simple lace knitting is shown on the right, photo courtesy of Knitters' Review.

Here is the site I found: Making an Easy Lace Scarf. It looks like all the essentails are there: an easy lace scarf pattern, how-to's, and lots of links to patterns, tutorials, books and yarns. Once I master the "making of lace" technique, maybe a shawl will be on the list for another project for the winter.

Now to decide on the yarn to be used for the scarf. For everything there is a time and a season. Maybe next season will be the time to start the referenced lace shawl.

For Donna, may God's peace be with you. For Mary, Julie and Jack, may God's will leave you with strength and purpose. For Kathy, may God's peace shine on you. For anyone reading this post, may your time be purposeful.

Dogs as Helpers; Animals in Heaven

On Monday, therapy dog Libby Sweetpea, Cathy, her two therapy dogs and I visited the Grand Junction Regional Center operated by Colorado's Dept. of Human Services.

We two adults and our three pets visited the 32 people receiving highly specialized care in one section at the Center. Most of the people receiving care, although non-verbal, seemed to be highly receptive to the animals, and a few petted the dogs with enthusiasm and gentleness. I was very much impressed with the excellent care provided by the direct patient providers.

Previously, I have written about Therapy Dogs International here in an earlier post and here after Libby received her official Therapy Dog certification.

While on a visit last week to St. Mary's Hospital, Libby and I visited with a woman whose dog had died several years ago.

That conversation brought up the subject of "animals in heaven."

Wanting to check out this line of thinking, here are a few sites I visited:

(photo courtesy of saintfrancisfoundation)

Do Animals Go to Heaven? and reassurances can be found here.

Both sites give assurances that life with beloved pets are valuable in many ways. This was certainly validated yesterday when I saw the positive interaction our dogs provided those with many special physical needs.

Here is a sweet poem given us upon the death of our older pet several years ago. The office staff of the veterinarian all signed the card that said:

Just this side of Heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food and water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing: they miss someone very special to them; who had to be left behind. They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. The bright eyes are intent; the eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to break away from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together......."
Anonymous