we live one day at a time…and handle life as best as we can. yesterday I returned to my roots. i drove around our three family farms, saw the barns and grass seed cleaner of my childhood. i touched the rocks that i had picked up as a kid, in the fields with my dad and family, and brought some home. i remembered who i am and what matters most to me. i am so thankful for our farm heritage and that this beautiful land remains in the family. i visited with cousins and a bee keeper who was my classmate. i remembered my 4-H steers as i looked in the barn. i remembered running the grass seed cleaner into the night. memories came flooding back, many of them wonderful, joyful times of hard work and being together as a family. of hauling straw and delivering it to the fairgrounds for a dollar a bale. we would throw the straw into each stall over the top of the doors. we were industrious, working hard to make a living. catching crawdads in the stream on a sunny day. frogging in the neighbors pond. root beer floats with the montagues, or riding their sow or one of the cows. playing cowboys and indians and leaving a hostage tied up to a tree for awhile. sending food up into the big tree by rope. jumping from the haymow with grain bags for parachutes. grinding our own wheat and helping mom bake bread and churn butter. hard times, too. trusing God in deeper ways, learning about His grace and love, His power. Memories. Fields of vivid green–new life. Riding my horse with Katie through the fields down in the draw, going so fast our hair trailed behind us. Loving life and freedom.
As the world reels from the impact of the pandemic, I know that many around the globe are facing extremely stressful situations. For those who have contracted the virus, to those fighting for their lives, and to those on the front lines of this battle, these are incredibly hard times. How has your life been impacted? How are you doing emotionally, physically and spiritually?
I am hoping to write a short series of posts about helpful ways that we can respond to hard times. My graduate training is in Rehabilitation Counseling , and I used to develop and offer trainings for professionals around the NW on the topic of addressing vicarious trauma (also known as compassion fatigue) through increasing resilience. Also, living with MS and other adversity has given me personal perspective. I have gained skill at doing “HARD” things over the years. This experience also reminds me of adapting to a new culture and way of life, such as when I lived and taught at Jiangxi Medical College in China for two years. Perhaps I can offer a few Pandemic Pointers, especially when it comes to mental health.
At the moment, I am thinking about how stress impacts sleep. Tonight, I am not feeling stressed, and sleep has been reasonably good for me in recent weeks. I woke up at 2:30 am, and though I’ll soon go back to sleep most likely, I decided to try listening to some deep sleep music a friend recommended (thanks Kimberli . I’ll let you know if it was helpful. I needed to open FB to get the link she sent on messenger…I know that screens are the wrong thing for sleep and will dim the light and put the laptop far from me in a moment. But first, I decided to write a few minutes.)
Sometimes in the night watches, God encourages my heart deeply. Recently that has been the case when I am awake even for a short time. We are living in “unprecedented times” as the media so often reminds us. Around the world, many are suffering. We see images of patients in overloaded hospitals and hear interviews of health care workers faced with the anguish of this pandemic and all the suffering has brought in various places. But we also see images of nurses gathering on the helipad to do battle in prayer together, and of people in quarantine singing in harmony from their balconies. We see Christians responding to the call to help in a culture that so readily attacks them for doing what honors God. Mike Lindell, a man whose life has been redeemed by God, has rapidly transformed much of his factories into making urgently needed face masks for health care workers and others during this crisis. Because he acknowledged God’s grace in his own life as he was speaking with President Trump, and encouraged people to use this time to read God’s Word and spend time as a family, he faced vicious attacks from the media and others. We are truly in a spiritual battle as well as a fight in the physical and emotional realms. God’s Word speaks of this, and reminds us that nothing can separate us from His love.
I am so thankful that His Presence brings light and hope into my days. So thankful that “the eyes of the Lord search to and fro throughout the inhabited earth to strongly support those whose hearts are fully His.” That verse was a great comfort to me when I lived in Asia years ago and encountered health challenges or other daunting things. Lord, may my heart be fully Yours. Another verse that I treasured then and now says “as your days are, so shall your strength be.”
What are the challenges you currently face? What are the gifts of this time in your life, even in the midst of these challenges?
My friend wisely said, “Never marry someone you wouldn’t want to be quaranteened with!’ I am thankful for my husband and the sweetness of our days shared recently. During a difficult fall and winter in our lives, Jerry has really proven his love and maturity in deeper ways than ever. I am really more in love with him than ever, aware that he is our spiritual leader in our home, and a covering over me in some ways. He has been working from home and in his free time planting vegetables and building a ukelele. He has encouraged me in my walk with God and I am so grateful for him. God continues to strengthen us and enliven us to hopefully bless others during this time. Be safe, and be well. Abide in His love, whatever each day brings.
Yesterday I needed to pick up a few things at the local grocery store. It was early and almost empty aside from employees. I wore a mask and gloves. I ended up having a deep, powerful conversation with the checker who was a beautiful sister in Christ I’d never met before. We talked about the very broad impact this is having around the world, God’s Word and what the Bible says about times like we are living in. We talked about things with spiritual and emotional depth and will pray for each other. A beloved friend in Hong Kong is sending some masks, and her sister contacted me yesterday saying she had mailed us a large number of surgical masks. I am so touched by this expression of love and compassion for the needs locally from this beloved friend. This truly reflects God’s love.
Another friend shared with me this morning that she is experiencing panic attacks when she is off work. As a CNA she provides hands on care for some COVID patients in ICU and elsewhere, so while occupied with her work she does better, but other times the panic sets in. We prayed for one another and I will continue praying for her and all of you on the front lines, sacrificially doing your job in a way that reflects the Lord’s mercy for us despite the costs. Yesterday I had the chance to make eye contact with a few loved ones beyond my household, at a safe distance outdoors as I wore a mask and gloves when needed. How I treasured seeing the faces of a few people I love (without a computer screen making that possible). Our brains need this kind of opportunity to flourish.
Today Jerry asked me to call an insurance company (which serves veterans and has wonderful staff) and after attending to business, the agent, Cassie and I had some very precious fellowship in Christ. I’d never met her before but she commented how encouraged she felt as we talked, and again we went deep. Christ’s presence with us was evident to both of us, despite stay home orders and being in different parts of the country.
Interactions have potential to be such a blessing and God is enabling connections through many forms of technology. This morning I joined in the 5 Days of Prayer at Jefferson Baptist via Zoom. As I listened to the prayers of these dear brothers and sisters, I heard words that reflect the redemptive ways God is at work in these times. I heard prayers and compassion for all those impacted, and concern for hurting people in need. So many need protection and comfort. Tragically, people in our community and around the world are losing loved ones. These are truly painful, harsh times and even people who have lived through great adversity have never experienced anything quite like this. And yet, in the midst of it all, God is doing what He does so well–redeeming the suffering, transforming hearts, extending His love and offering eternal life for all those who embrace the gift of His Son, Jesus.
My husband is working from home right now, and our marriage and our health have been blessed a lot as a result of some resulting changes to routine. Look for the hidden blessings, and cultivate a grateful heart. Gratitude has powerful effects on our brains. When we give thanks to God and interact with Him, it turns on our relational circuits in the brain, and makes relating to others or even tackling tough issues much easier and more feasible. Remember that God is love, and He invites us into His Presence moment by moment. Two years ago a friend and I had the joy of teaching some students from various countries about Immanuel Prayer, a way of enjoying Christ’s Presence and inviting Him into our days. Immanuel Journaling teaches our brains just how truly interactive God is, and the depths of His love and care for us. We can cry out “Dear Abba Father…thank you for how you are at work in this time of pandemic. Thank you for moving in hearts and lives and comforting and protecting many around the world.” He responds, “My dear child…” Through this interactive gratitude, God turns on our relationship circuits. Then we might imagine how He responds to our hearts in these ways: “My dear child, I see you. I hear you. I understand how big this is for you. I AM glad to be with you and treat your weaknesses tenderly. I can do something about what you are going through.” Though this is just a glimpse of what we taught these precious believers, you might get some idea of this way of relating to God. As we journal or pray, we can connect with our Redeemer and also develop neural pathways that bring healing and deeper intimacy with the Lord. God often speaks powerfully to us through His living Word, and knowing that He is with us in the midst of whatever we face makes such a difference. Having hope that transcends the harsh realities of life sustains us.
We are praying for all of those on the front lines. God is moving powerfully in hearts in the midst of all of this. Grieve when you need to, reach out for support when necessary. Pause and treasure the connections God makes possible. Life is fragile. You are loved. As much as you can, remember to lift your eyes from the fear-invoking media and the harsh losses and realities. When you fix your eyes on Jesus instead, peace can reign. Remember that in Christ, we are safe and secure (and Colossians 3 in the early verses may be really helpful right now), and neither life nor death nor principalities nor things present nor things to come can separate us from His love (Romans 8). Treasure these opportunities for reflection, a slower pace, and deeper connections with people and God. Life is uncertain and brief. This pandemic brings many things into perspective and reminds us what matters most. Let us know if we can pray more specifically for you or with you. God is worthy of all praise and honor, even in troubled times. His comfort transforms us and prepares us to share His powerful, genuine comfort with others.
Sometimes we can get caught up in working towards a goal, and in the midst of learning and trying to accomplish something, we lose sight of how this may be impacting us and our relationships.
Recently I made a prayerful decision to let go of a goal, for whatever time God leads me to do so. God gave me guidance in a number of ways…all culminating in a moment when the blur and strain of various responsibilities, emotions and concerns I’d been carrying over the past few months came into focus.
God spoke to my heart in the grocery store, when a fairly simple task felt like a big challenge. The motorized cart I used to gather the groceries for Thanksgiving dinner was full (and I had a few groceries already setting around my feet) and I couldn’t seem to find the frozen turkeys. People pointed here and there as they guessed where the turkeys were kept, but none of their guesses were anything more than a wild goose chase. I wanted to finish and go pick up my mom from her appointment, but I needed to find the turkey first. For a moment, I felt like pulling over and crying. Instead, I prayed, “Please help me, God.”
Finally, I asked the woman at the deli where they kept the turkeys, and whether someone could help me get the turkey to the check-out stand in the front of the store. She pointed at a freezer “island” in the back of the store, and she paged someone to help me. Before the customer service woman arrived to help, a nice young man working in produce (his first day on the job) picked up the 20 lb. turkey I pointed to, and he gladly carried the turkey up to the check-out stand where I took my place in line.
I am thankful for how God spoke an important truth to my heart as I rode the motorized cart around the store, and finally got the turkey and other groceries loaded into my van. Like that cart, my life had gotten too full recently. Health issues and major life transitions of loved ones, the recent loss of a beloved family member, and various other concerns all weighed heavily on my heart.
As I prayed more about all of this, I sensed God showing me that He saw the impact of all that. He is always glad to be with us and treats our weaknesses tenderly. With all of these major life events going on in our extended family in recent months, I realized I really need to create some space for what matters most. To do that, I needed to be willing to put a personal goal on hold, and trust God with this decision and the eventual outcome.
When I shared this decision with a friend, she commented that in Psalm 46:10, “Cease striving and know that I am God,” the language means to release something, to let go and to relax. In releasing this desire to God, I felt such genuine peace. I slept better. I felt able to be more emotionally present again. Offering love and practical support to loved ones began to feel natural again. My own health benefited from this letting go as well. Living with multiple sclerosis is more challenging than I often acknowledge. I try to live in light of eternity, but being realistic about my limitations and my own needs helps.
Sometimes a goal or focus takes on a life of its own, and we begin to work with singular focus towards reaching that goal. But as it says in Ecclesiastes 4:6, “One hand full of rest is better than two fists full of labor and striving after the wind.” Christ calls us to learn the unforced rhythms of grace as we yoke up with Him and find our burdens lighter because of His power and strength.
When God calls us to do something, we apply ourselves and put our heart into this task. Yet, when God leads me to let go of that same goal or task (even for a time or season), I want to obey without hesitation. When love motivates me to set something aside, I can trust God’s timing, His heart and His leading.
Earlier this week, the specialist I see for MS and I had a brief dialogue via the patient portal. In earlier conversations, she had encouraged me as I considered changing primary care doctors to the clinic where she works. This would be closer and simplify care. She also knew that the clinic where I have been receiving primary care has been increasingly disappointing. (The quality of care has changed a lot over the past couple of years and they are in the midst of some major changes which will compound the deficiencies in care.) When I inquired about transferring my primary care earlier, I was told which doctors were taking new patients, and that it would be fairly easy to make this change. I had felt hopeful and encouraged.
That was until I actually asked again a few days ago about transferring my care, and then I encountered a brick wall. “We are not taking any new patients with your insurance.” Not at all? I asked politely. “No, not at all.” While I understand the reasons, I felt very disappointed. When I mentioned this to the neurologist, she said she was very sorry that I encountered barriers due to my insurance and she explained why that is happening. Reimbursement is so poor that smaller clinics would struggle to keep their doors open if they accept too many patients with this very common insurance. She is an excellent doctor and I am very thankful that she accepted me as a patient awhile back. But many doctors will not. Thousands of Americans are in this same situation.
This doctor commented on our broken system and I have great empathy for her and many other caring medical professionals trying to work in this system. I also have great compassion for the multitudes of patients whose care is increasingly compromised by a system which discriminates against them by virtue of the insurance they have. If you have care, be thankful. If you long for days when the quality of care was better, I guess you had better be proactive in taking really good care of your own health because things are likely to get worse. Our medical system in this country is essentially a train wreck waiting to happen, and more trains are going off the rails.
Although they would never call it that, the reality is that rationing of care is also taking place. My primary care doctor spent most of my “Wellness Visit” explaining why she no longer needs to monitor many aspects of my health. Bloodwork that she used to consider essential is “no longer needed.” I am learning from friends who work in the medical field that this is increasingly common. If you want good health care, and you happen to have insurance which does not have fair reimbursement rates, you suddenly don’t need tests unless they are larger sources of income for the clinic. I’m not talking about wasteful tests, but ones which give essential information which can help inform treatment decisions.
When you go to the lab for some necessary bloodwork, the clinic has a computer program which will flag every test that the insurance isn’t likely to cover. So you can decline the test, or you can sign a paper saying you’ll foot the bill yourself. Even though the test I needed was because of months of bloodwork being outside of normal range (possibly due to the MS medication), I had to sign a paper saying that I’d pay for the test if and when my insurance declined. Most likely we will be gouged again. Health care premiums continue to go up each year, and the covered services seem to decrease even more rapidly.
Also, quite often now scheduling is done in a way that requires you to see the provider with the least amount of training rather than your primary care doctor. Nothing against these providers, but complex situations might be better addressed by someone with more training who knows your medical history already. So, thankfully I take good care of my health as much as I possibly can, and I have a good naturopath who assists me now and then (and my insurance doesn’t cover him at all). But I am deeply concerned about the impact of these issues for all of us. I have seen poor medical care harm loved ones. Many people think that socialized medicine is the answer. Actually I believe it is not the answer but often the source of many of the problems we are facing already. Reducing care to the lowest common denominator will cost lives, and this is already impacting the system adversely.
Insurance companies, even large mainstream carriers, and clinic administrators are making decisions about what health care is offered to people. Sometimes entire clinics or specialty areas are being closed or no longer covered by insurance companies. It doesn’t matter that lives hang in the balance when these conditions go untreated. Dollars seem to be the only bottom line, while ethics and the call to do no harm get ignored.
The dollars and insurance companies are calling the shots, and doctors who want to provide quality care are increasingly frustrated. Some are leaving the field or offering cash only services. I have great compassion for the doctors who have to try to operate in this messed up system. Their stress levels go up as they contend with administrative policies they know harm patient care. Patients with chronic conditions and people who have diseases are viewed and treated differently than they might have been before our system became so broken. I felt a bit like I had a scarlet letter on my forehead as the receptionists all looked at me as the front desk worker explained I would likely never be able to receive help from a primary care doctor in their clinic. Rejected. Not worth helping because of the insurance I have. (Thankfully my identity is found in Christ, not in this sort of thing but this conversation felt very heartless.)
I watched a movie called Living Proof (on Amazon) recently. The man who made the film has Multiple Sclerosis. He shared a story that highlights the broken system and money-oriented power structures that dominate the scene. He shared how his father (a scientist) researched diet and lifestyle changes that could help him battle this insidious disease. His mother is a nurse. When they tried to share this valuable information with the MS organization in Canada, he learned how influential big pharmaceutical companies had become. When someone has MS, if they receive one of the mainstream MS treatments, the potential income for pharmaceutical companies over the years is a staggeringly high dollar amount. Many of the medications cost many times more than the person with MS lives on per year. Thousands and thousands of dollars are made, and the Canadian MS organization is in the pocket of Big Pharma.
The movie also has an interview with a doctor who performed a procedure that has helped many MS patients. He was stopped from offering this procedure despite the benefit it had for many of those he helped. This sinister and tragic change happened because what he offered threatened the large profits made from other more “accepted” treatments, so they pressured him to stop.
When this man with MS who made this movie created a website to help others with MS learn some natural and lifestyle approaches that might help them, too, the Canadian MS organization issued him a legal order to cease and desist. They saw offering this information as a threat. Thankfully, this man had the courage to find a way to continue sharing the information. But the movie made me think more deeply about this very corrupt system which profits greatly from taking only a western medical approach to treating this disease. My husband and I didn’t sleep so well after watching the video. The truth about what is happening in health care is disturbing on so many levels.
I often try to write about encouraging things. This blog post may not be very joyful to read. I would apologize for that, but I cannot. Some of the information in this post may be controversial. If it disturbs you, it is because our health care system needs help. Many of us may encounter “health-don’t-care” rather than the quality of care we once had. I’m going to choose to be grateful for the courageous health care professionals who continue to find ways to offer quality care. Some of them do this at great personal sacrifice. (I have great empathy for doctors and other providers trying to do their jobs in an increasingly hostile environment. Health care is compromised when the doctors are hindered from doing the right thing for the patient by systems that call the shots.)
I’ll trust God to help with the rest of this, and I’ll persevere. But I might also take a careful look at whether I am simply a cash cow to the pharmaceutical industry by virtue of having MS, or whether these treatments continue to best serve my own health. Maybe God is allowing me to see and experience the disappointing realities that so many of us are encountering as we try to get basic help with our health for a reason. Maybe I can be a voice crying for reform in the wilderness of diminished care. Since economics drive most of this, not patient-centered values, I know I need to pray for others like me who are finding it harder and harder to navigate basic care needs. Even more, I want to pray for the courageous doctors and professionals who endeavor to offer quality care in a system that actually punishes them for doing the right thing at times. Thankfully my faith is in God, not in our broken system of health care which is hurting doctors and patients alike.
Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place. –Rumi
Just a few months ago, my husband and I changed our plans and headed for Medford to help his parents. His father, Joe, had fallen and they thought his leg might be broken. They were in the midst of packing and preparing their home for sale, with the intention of moving closer to their three kids. Because of Joe’s fall, and their emotional exhaustion from the preparations to move, Jerry and I could see that they really needed our nurturing and care more than they needed help packing boxes.
Jerry cleaned their kitchen nicely, and prepared some nourishing meals for them. He noticed his Dad wasn’t eating really well, so he wanted to be sure they had some good homemade meals that he would enjoy. The first evening there, Joe and I sat outside watching the sunset. Their place was up on a hillside, so the view of the valley below was striking, and the sunset painted the sky in beautiful hues of pink, blue, and other soft colors.
Joe and I talked about his life and the things that mattered most to him. He shared some memories, some joys and some regrets. He told me that he wanted to take time to make friends when they moved. He had assisted his wife in her tax preparation business after he retired from his work as a heavy equipment mechanic, and even though he was now over eighty, and she was nearing eighty, they had just finally retired in the spring. He said that he often talked to people when he was outside in the yard, but they hadn’t had time for a lot of relationships. So, together we hoped that this upcoming move would allow them both to slow down and enjoy life together. Joe shared his heart about various things, and I told him how much Jerry and I loved and appreciated him and Jerry’s mom. For those brief moments as the sun set, we relaxed and shared from our hearts, thankful for time to connect. Jerry and I returned home a few days later, thankful for the chance to be with his parents and to help out.
Then their house went on the market, and quickly sold. Within a few days, they also found a new home and bought it. In a gated community, they had found a home they both could enjoy. Joe immediately bought fifty pounds of cracked corn and had it on a dolly near the front door. He loved feeding the ducks and made friends with the man who managed the community they now called home. Jerry and I heard excitement and joy in his voice over the phone as he told us about the ducks and the fishing right behind their home. We told him we’d come see their new place real soon.
Sadly, last week we received a call that Joe had been taken by ambulance to River View Hospital. Initially it sounded like maybe an infection had made him less responsive and unable to wake up fully that morning. We hoped he would be okay. But the reports from ICU sounded increasingly serious. So Jerry hurried to meet me in Albany where he picked me up and we headed for the hospital. Part of the Peace Health system of hospitals, the faith-based environment spoke to us, “Peace to all who enter here.” This sign over the parking garage entry and other reminders of God’s love ministered to us as we hurried to his room.
When we reached Joe’s bedside, he had many tubes and machines hooked to him, and a respirator helped him breathe. Tears filled our eyes as we held his hands and spoke softly to him. I thought of his warm eyes that always had a twinkle in them. We never got to see those eyes again.
A few days later, we hurried back to ICU after Jerry got home from work. During the afternoon, I had held a phone in my hands, listening as the ICU doctor shared with family and a few of us by phone that despite the continuous dialysis after the surgery they had hoped would help, his blood pressure was not adequate to sustain him much longer. He said that they weren’t giving up, but Joe would not likely make it too many more hours. He knew that Joe’s sister was trying to come from another state. Though they would see if Joe could make til the next day, he told us not to count on it. His kindness was evident, and we felt thankful for a compassionate doctor who assured us that he would keep Joe comfortable.
Again, the signs with the blessing of “peace to all who enter” spoke to my heart. Despite this unexpected turn in Joe’s health that had brought him to the hospital, Jerry and I talked about how all of our days are ordained before one of them came to be. God knew.
Jerry and I stood by Joe’s bedside, and I left the room so that Jerry’s mom and others could take a turn. Jerry lingered at his dad’s bedside. When my friend offered their guest house fifteen minutes from the hospital, we went there thinking we’d sleep a few hours then relieve the others at ICU. But as soon as we went to sleep, we received the text, “Come quickly. Get here are fast as you can.” We pulled on our clothes and rushed to his bedside.
Gathered with Jerry’s sister and her husband, and their two daughters, Jerry’s mother, and a family friend, Will, we all knew the end was very near. We asked the nurse if they would take the breathing tube out and make him more comfortable. They said that would be good for him. We sang the Johnny Appleseed song together. We told him we loved him and held his hand. Joe hung on awhile, then the monitors began to show lines finally flattening as he took his final breath.
Joe usually gave me a big hug every time we would say goodbye. He wouldn’t let go, and he’d often comment, “I don’t want to let you go.” When my own father died a couple of years ago, I told Joe that I really needed him now. I still needed a father and I was so thankful to have him in my life.
Joe’s own words echoed in my mind and heart as his time on earth gently came to a close. “I don’t want to let you go.”
Back at their new home after the sun rose in the morning, we gathered with the family to plan a memorial. All of us were exhausted. I gladly went outside when we took a break for a bit. Near the stream that runs behind their home, the ducks came waddling towards me. A man on the trail also walked up to me, and we struck up a conversation. I mentioned Joe had loved those ducks and this place. The man asked if I was talking about the man who lived in the house right behind us, and I said yes, but sadly he had died just after midnight.
The man’s face clouded and he said, “Oh no. I really liked Joe. I didn’t know he was in the hospital. We had become good friends.” My heart felt so sad, but thankful that one of Joe’s hopes for moving had come to fruition. He had made a friend who shared his love for the ducks, fishing and for life in general.
Our time was far too brief, and our hopes for many more times together evaporated as his life came to an unexpected conclusion. But we are thankful for every moment we shared with this dear man.
Oh, Dad. It’s so hard to let you go.