Working night shift can play havoc with one's schedule. For many night shifters, "normal" is sleeping most of the day and staying up all night. I have found, even with cable, there is often nothing of interest on television in the middle of the night - especially if you're not in the market for a fitness program/diet/amazing hair product/kitchen tool/pillow. Tonight, I found a show on the Science Channel titled "Curiosity: Did God Create the Universe?" featuring Stephen Hawking. A world renowned theoretical physicist, Hawking has won many awards and is widely regarded as an expert in his field. Professor Hawking, however, is reported to be an atheist.
I decided to turn on the show, and see what was presented. While I consider myself open-minded, I also will freely admit that I do not agree with the scientific explanations of how the earth, the universe, and the human race came to be. I believe that God created the heavens and the earth, and that God created man. I don't necessarily think that Adam could be put down on Main Street USA without some significant adjustments (clothing, for starters), but I believe that Adam and Eve, made by God, were human.
This is not the first show that I have watched (or attempted to watch) that offered a non-Biblical explanation for the creation of the universe. My other viewing choice was a show on the Military Channel that offered an asteroid as the explanation for Sodom and Gomorrah. While I did not necessarily believe that either, it was presented in an interesting fashion. The topic of creation and the presence or absence of God is always one that will bring about a discussion. The depth and intensity of the discussion depends on the beliefs (or non-belief) of those involved.
I believe in God. I do not have to see Him to know that he exists. He lives in those who believe and profess Him. I believe that Heaven is real and Hell is a place that I don't want to go. I believe in miracles. I try very hard to live so that others can see Him in me. I do not always succeed, and some days are a struggle, but I have faith that He will continue to guide me as long as I trust in Him.
Father, I ask that you help me to grow my faith and teach others of you. Help me to profess you in all that I do.
"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see ... By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God's command, so that what is seen was not made out of what is visible."~Hebrews 11:1, 3
17 September 2012
16 July 2012
Saturday, We Searched for Seashells
No matter what you may have read, no matter what you have learned in a classroom, no matter what you think you know - the creeping dissolution that is Alzheimer's is extremely difficult to deal with. When the disease affects someone you love, it becomes a frightening abyss on whose edge you teeter, often without a safety net. There are good days, sometimes there are good moments. There are not-so-good days, and terrifying moments. When your loved one denies that anything is wrong, it can feel as if you are swimming upstream in molasses weighed down by fear.
I suspected something was wrong shortly after the accident in the fall of 2010 - the one where she apparently pulled into the path of an oncoming vehicle while attempting to cross the circle one morning. I began to notice memory lapses, minor things at first: forgetting a word when telling a story or asking a question. Minor confusion and slight forgetfulness were attributed to the accident, the painful and slow-to-heal break of her collarbone and the fact that she was off work for over four months. Once she was back to work, everything was fine! It wasn't, but that was the delusion that we allowed ourselves.
2011 was a difficult year for her, in many ways. Her great-granddaughter went back to NY. In early August, a difference of opinion caused her to leave the job that she had held for more than fourteen years. Why did she leave? We don't really know - it's doubtful that we ever will know the real reason. Her story? 'They' stated that she had to learn to mix paint and she didn't want to. An ultimatum was issued and she refused ... deciding instead that it was time to quit ... and she walked out the door. While on a short trip home for the family reunion in September 2011, my husband and I asked her to come to Louisiana and visit for a while. It was then that I realized just how much she had truly changed.
My extremely and almost fiercely independent mother had suddenly become dependent. She lived with us for almost 6 months -- and not once during that time did she drive herself anywhere. If Rob or I didn't take her, she stayed at our house, venturing outside only to walk Max or to get the mail. If we didn't turn the tv on and find something that she wanted to watch, she would leave it off, sitting in silence for hours working puzzles, reading, or talking to the dog. She did not cook meals, she used the microwave or snacked. She almost obsessively washed the dishes, not wanting even a single piece of silverware to sit in the sink. When we arrived home from work, we got a complete report on how many times she had to clean up after the dog. I changed my habits, making certain that I cooked before going to work so I could fix her a plate to make sure that she ate. On my days off, we went around town, to make sure that she got out of the house. After we returned from NY in early March, she started saying that she wanted to go home because she had stuff to do. I fretted, stressed, worried, delayed ... and finally gave in.
I took her home in April. She drives her own car around town, visits friends, goes to church. She makes noises about traveling to visit family members (my sister in Kentucky, her sister in North Carolina), but thankfully has not done so. She sits in her recliner, working puzzles and watching tv. I don't think that she's slept in her bed in months, instead dozing off or sleeping in the recliner. She putters around the house, finding places to put the latest sale item that she just had to buy. She talks animatedly and frequently ... about the past. She did not recognize her own sister, and we wonder how many other people she no longer recognizes. She gets angry if you correct her when she makes a mistake, and will drop or change the subject, refusing to talk about the error.
This weekend, my sister and I both came home. My daughter and grandbabies were down for a visit, and she wanted to go see mama before heading back to NY. It was stressful, infuriating, and scary. Cheryl and I had decided that we were going to take a day trip to the beach. She hadn't been in years, and my youngest niece had never been, so to PC Beach we headed. We talked mama into going with us, and she dressed in her shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. She fussed most of the way down there, stating that she hadn't lost anything at the beach and that she should have stayed at home. She told us how they used to bring their own drinking water when visiting Uncle Delmas and Aunt Fronie, because they lived in Panama and their water was awful. And that you shouldn't make tea from that water because it would taste so very bad. She fussed about the smell, the wind, the water, and the sand. When I walked toward the pier to take pictures, she followed. When I bent over to pick up a shell, she asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was collecting shells, and showed her the tiny but perfect one that I had found.
Suddenly, she had a purpose! Whenever she saw me pick up a shell, she would look intensely at the surrounding sand to make sure that she could find some too. She got excited when they were different colors. She blew the sand off every single shell that she picked up. And for a few minutes, she forgot that she didn't want to be at the beach. She was happy helping me pick up shells.
Every day is progressively more difficult. I cannot even begin to fathom what it must be like for her ... the confusion, the struggle. God, please give us the strength to help her through this. The task ahead of us is not an easy one, and we are going to need all the help you can give us.
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord for this is right. 'Honor your father and mother', which is the first commandment with a promise, 'so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth."~Ephesians 6:1-3 NIV
I suspected something was wrong shortly after the accident in the fall of 2010 - the one where she apparently pulled into the path of an oncoming vehicle while attempting to cross the circle one morning. I began to notice memory lapses, minor things at first: forgetting a word when telling a story or asking a question. Minor confusion and slight forgetfulness were attributed to the accident, the painful and slow-to-heal break of her collarbone and the fact that she was off work for over four months. Once she was back to work, everything was fine! It wasn't, but that was the delusion that we allowed ourselves.
2011 was a difficult year for her, in many ways. Her great-granddaughter went back to NY. In early August, a difference of opinion caused her to leave the job that she had held for more than fourteen years. Why did she leave? We don't really know - it's doubtful that we ever will know the real reason. Her story? 'They' stated that she had to learn to mix paint and she didn't want to. An ultimatum was issued and she refused ... deciding instead that it was time to quit ... and she walked out the door. While on a short trip home for the family reunion in September 2011, my husband and I asked her to come to Louisiana and visit for a while. It was then that I realized just how much she had truly changed.
My extremely and almost fiercely independent mother had suddenly become dependent. She lived with us for almost 6 months -- and not once during that time did she drive herself anywhere. If Rob or I didn't take her, she stayed at our house, venturing outside only to walk Max or to get the mail. If we didn't turn the tv on and find something that she wanted to watch, she would leave it off, sitting in silence for hours working puzzles, reading, or talking to the dog. She did not cook meals, she used the microwave or snacked. She almost obsessively washed the dishes, not wanting even a single piece of silverware to sit in the sink. When we arrived home from work, we got a complete report on how many times she had to clean up after the dog. I changed my habits, making certain that I cooked before going to work so I could fix her a plate to make sure that she ate. On my days off, we went around town, to make sure that she got out of the house. After we returned from NY in early March, she started saying that she wanted to go home because she had stuff to do. I fretted, stressed, worried, delayed ... and finally gave in.
I took her home in April. She drives her own car around town, visits friends, goes to church. She makes noises about traveling to visit family members (my sister in Kentucky, her sister in North Carolina), but thankfully has not done so. She sits in her recliner, working puzzles and watching tv. I don't think that she's slept in her bed in months, instead dozing off or sleeping in the recliner. She putters around the house, finding places to put the latest sale item that she just had to buy. She talks animatedly and frequently ... about the past. She did not recognize her own sister, and we wonder how many other people she no longer recognizes. She gets angry if you correct her when she makes a mistake, and will drop or change the subject, refusing to talk about the error.
This weekend, my sister and I both came home. My daughter and grandbabies were down for a visit, and she wanted to go see mama before heading back to NY. It was stressful, infuriating, and scary. Cheryl and I had decided that we were going to take a day trip to the beach. She hadn't been in years, and my youngest niece had never been, so to PC Beach we headed. We talked mama into going with us, and she dressed in her shirt, jeans, socks and shoes. She fussed most of the way down there, stating that she hadn't lost anything at the beach and that she should have stayed at home. She told us how they used to bring their own drinking water when visiting Uncle Delmas and Aunt Fronie, because they lived in Panama and their water was awful. And that you shouldn't make tea from that water because it would taste so very bad. She fussed about the smell, the wind, the water, and the sand. When I walked toward the pier to take pictures, she followed. When I bent over to pick up a shell, she asked me what I was doing. I told her that I was collecting shells, and showed her the tiny but perfect one that I had found.
Suddenly, she had a purpose! Whenever she saw me pick up a shell, she would look intensely at the surrounding sand to make sure that she could find some too. She got excited when they were different colors. She blew the sand off every single shell that she picked up. And for a few minutes, she forgot that she didn't want to be at the beach. She was happy helping me pick up shells.
Every day is progressively more difficult. I cannot even begin to fathom what it must be like for her ... the confusion, the struggle. God, please give us the strength to help her through this. The task ahead of us is not an easy one, and we are going to need all the help you can give us.
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord for this is right. 'Honor your father and mother', which is the first commandment with a promise, 'so that it may go well with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth."~Ephesians 6:1-3 NIV
06 March 2012
and the hits just keep on comin' ...
So anyway. Last night was the first night back at work after two weeks off. It's usually difficult, for most of us anyway, to come back to work after that many days off at one time. I headed to work, however, with a positive attitude. There were ups and downs, but all in all, not a bad shift. Imagine my surprise when a chance encounter unveils the "good meeting" (held while I was gone) and its results. I can't decide whether to be insulted or thankful.
I hope that I put on the happy face. You know which one I mean. The one that says, "yeah, I expected as much and it validated every single thing I was thinking, and ohbytheway, thanks so much for the slap in the face. Let's do this again, shall we?" The news, however, is a double-edged sword. I do not in any way begrudge part of the change that was made. Change is good, for it keeps things from becoming static. Change is a growth process, for nearly everyone involved. This particular change just happened to come without warning, and was delivered in such a way that I felt insulted. I was left with doubts about not only my skills and rapport with my team members, but was left with the crushing doubt of wondering if the rapport I thought we had achieved was only a figment of my own undeniably over-active imagination.
So how do I handle this situation? Do I confront them? Confrontation in the workplace, as a general rule, is NOT a good thing. Someone inevitably gets hurt and it makes for a strained working environment. Swallowing the issue doesn't always work either. The person (in this case - me) who holds their tongue builds up a pool of bitterness and resentment, and can end up lashing out at an inopportune time. And I have learned all too well the negative effects of speaking before you think, or speaking before you think things through. No matter how hard you try, you cannot unsay hurtful things.
I am hurt right now. Hurt because not one of my coworkers saw fit to even hint at what was coming. Apparently it was their idea. At least that's what I was told. And therein lies the rub. That's what I was told. As in nearly everything in life, there are two sides to a story. Do I want to try and uncover the other side? There is a chance that it is exactly as was said. That might make things worse. Do I really want to know what my coworkers think of me?Or do I just let it go? As earlier posts over the past weeks have shown, I obviously have a problem with letting go. I'm going to fret over this. So much so that the vicious circle of thought running through my head on the way home was a repeat refrain of the pity party I had all those months ago when I changed shifts and began working with a new team. What that enlightening and self-defeating phrase kept telling me to remember was that "these are the people you work with. They are not your friends."
While I don't want to think those kinds of thoughts, I can't help it. And I know what will happen, because internally, it has already begun. I will withdraw until I make myself miserable. Oh wait. That's already here. I will temper what I say, because I feel as if it does not matter and I don't want to make things worse than they already are. I will remind myself that although we are a team, I'm not really a part of it, but an add-on that came later and never quite made first string. If that is so, oh well. I'm a survivor, and this too shall pass.
Dear God, today I am adrift in a leaking lifeboat with neither paddle nor life jacket. I am surrounded by treacherous waters. No shore is in sight. The beacon from the lighthouse flickers, and fades with each rotation. Can I cling to its steady strength, or will it, too, leave me shattered and alone?
"You are my strength, I sing praise to you; you, God, are my fortress, my God on whom I can rely." ~Psalm 59:17 NIV
05 March 2012
Out of the Depths
What do you do when, no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, you keep returning to a place/time/happening of your past? Agonizing over what was done and how things could be different if only you had done/said/thought/acted in some way differently than you did ... no matter how many years have gone by? What does it say about you when you are having a hard time focusing on what IS and enjoying what you have because you constantly compare it to what WAS and what you had?
There are probably as many quips, quotes, and words of wisdom are there are circumstances to which you can apply them. Sometimes, however, no matter how often you try to smile and put a happy face on things, it just doesn't happen. You want to cry, scream, throw things, yell at the world ... or is it that you want to yell at yourself? To beat yourself up over something that you have done ... are you beating yourself up over your past? You are not alone.
Right now, I cannot even find the words to express how I am feeling. I feel anger (at myself), remorse (for the pain that I caused) and regret (for what was lost). No distraction technique is working. How do you explain these feelings? How do you work through them? I feel as if I've been thrown into the deep end of an endless pool with no float device. And no, I can't swim.
I am finding no peace tonight, not even in the praise music that has been soothing me recently. The Bible is giving me no peace. I am not resting. Putting on the happy face is stressing me to the point that I want to run away from home, a rather ridiculous point of view for a woman in her mid 40s. When I consider such an action, I remind myself of the realities of the situation: I just returned from a two week vacation. I don't have the time to take off even if I had somewhere to go. I have responsibilities.
What else have I noticed? I have noticed that pain has become a constant, instead of a "most of the time." Headaches are coming more frequently, and have started to become more intense. While I don't deny that pain can have a physical cause, I think these recent exacerbations are stress driven and emotion related. I need to let go.
I need to let go, and let God deal with it. He did not put me in this position, but He will not desert me here. I need to trust, to have faith, to believe that He can and will show me an improvement -- that He has a plan. I know He does, for I truly believe that I would not be here if He didn't. Sometimes ... and this is one of those times ... I need reminding of what I have. Not what I had, for the choices made were my own (wrong though they were), but what I have.
God, today I am feeling ungrateful and peevish. Please forgive me for my stubborn refusal to let go of the pain. Help me to see that I need you to work through this. Help me move forward to the future that you have planned for me.
"My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart ... LORD, do not forsake me; do not be far from me, my God. Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior." ~ Psalms 38:7-8, 21-22 NIV
There are probably as many quips, quotes, and words of wisdom are there are circumstances to which you can apply them. Sometimes, however, no matter how often you try to smile and put a happy face on things, it just doesn't happen. You want to cry, scream, throw things, yell at the world ... or is it that you want to yell at yourself? To beat yourself up over something that you have done ... are you beating yourself up over your past? You are not alone.
Right now, I cannot even find the words to express how I am feeling. I feel anger (at myself), remorse (for the pain that I caused) and regret (for what was lost). No distraction technique is working. How do you explain these feelings? How do you work through them? I feel as if I've been thrown into the deep end of an endless pool with no float device. And no, I can't swim.
I am finding no peace tonight, not even in the praise music that has been soothing me recently. The Bible is giving me no peace. I am not resting. Putting on the happy face is stressing me to the point that I want to run away from home, a rather ridiculous point of view for a woman in her mid 40s. When I consider such an action, I remind myself of the realities of the situation: I just returned from a two week vacation. I don't have the time to take off even if I had somewhere to go. I have responsibilities.
What else have I noticed? I have noticed that pain has become a constant, instead of a "most of the time." Headaches are coming more frequently, and have started to become more intense. While I don't deny that pain can have a physical cause, I think these recent exacerbations are stress driven and emotion related. I need to let go.
I need to let go, and let God deal with it. He did not put me in this position, but He will not desert me here. I need to trust, to have faith, to believe that He can and will show me an improvement -- that He has a plan. I know He does, for I truly believe that I would not be here if He didn't. Sometimes ... and this is one of those times ... I need reminding of what I have. Not what I had, for the choices made were my own (wrong though they were), but what I have.
God, today I am feeling ungrateful and peevish. Please forgive me for my stubborn refusal to let go of the pain. Help me to see that I need you to work through this. Help me move forward to the future that you have planned for me.
"My back is filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body. I am feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart ... LORD, do not forsake me; do not be far from me, my God. Come quickly to help me, my Lord and my Savior." ~ Psalms 38:7-8, 21-22 NIV
04 February 2012
Letting Go of Regret
Why is it so hard to stop beating ourselves up over the past? Are we doomed to relive our past over and over, wondering what could have been if we'd made one different decision? What if one thing had been done differently? Where would we be? Would we have accomplished more? Been happier? Had fewer regrets?Living in the past is unhealthy. I don't have to be a psychologist or a psychiatrist to know this. I live it. The simple fact is that life moves on, whether we want it to or not. Constantly burying our minds in the past is a recipe for disaster. Instead of wondering "what if", I need to focus on what is. Why is that so hard to do?
When I look at the immediate future, I am angry at myself. I am where I am because of choices that I made, and I've come a long way. When I think about my past, I am angry at myself, regretting decisions that put me down roads I would much rather not have traveled. It has not been all bad, and there is no need for me to even intimate that it has. Decisions were made, I was able to meet some wonderful people that I still call friends. Decisions were made that generated encounters with people I hope I never see again. Thinking about past choices is enough to make the acid rise and make me think that a day spent in the bed with the covers over my head might be a good idea. I can't turn back the clock, I can only make the best of today, and every day that comes after.
Over the past few weeks, I have once more turned to music for comfort. These days, I am finding comfort in contemporary Christian music, a genre that I have never before spent much time exploring. There are days that the words to Casting Crowns' "Who Am I?" simply resonate through me. WHO AM I?
The answer? HIS. God has claimed me, loves me unconditionally, and forgives me. I have to give my past to Him, and stop looking back. I cannot undo the past, I cannot change it. What I can change is today, and I can change my future by decisions that I make today, and decisions that I make in the tomorrows that are to come.
I am
a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still you
Hear me when I'm calling
Lord, you catch me when I'm falling
And you told me who I am
I am YOURS ...
Many thanks to Mark Hall of Casting Crowns for writing down these words that were laid on his heart. I thank my friend Myra for posting this video several months ago, and my friend Erinn for turning my music search in the right direction. All I can do is take one step at a time, one day at a time. I pray for strength, wisdom, and guidance.
Jesus, I'm letting go. Again. I'm depending on your strength to help me, to guide me, so that I can get to where I need to be. Thank you for hearing me, for catching me and gently setting me back upon my path.
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."~Jeremiah 29:11 NIV
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