GOING HOME

Today I went home. It was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time.

To me, home isn’t a perfect place. It’s where you feel loved, comfortable, accepted, encouraged. You love the people you spend time with there, but you don’t always agree with them, or sometimes even like some of them terribly much! Home is the first place you want to get away from when you want to assert your individuality, but the first place you want to go back to when you need the comfort of the familiar. You may disagree with some of your loved ones…heck, you may drive each other nuts sometimes, but you always love them…and they love you.

Yesterday I went to church, for the first time in months. In the past year, I’ve gone from a fairly regular church-goer, to a “Holiday” that is, “Christmas and Easter” Christian. Mostly, I’ve just chosen the path of least resistance, choosing not to leave the warmth of my bed and softness of my husband’s arms, in lieu of fiddling with the hair and makeup, and the aggravation of goading the rest of m y family out of bed. It’s just so much easier to snuggle back down under the covers, or to head home after a long Saturday night shift rather than detour to church on the way, sacrificing another couple of hours of precious sleep.

Or is it? I seem to go through a period like this every few years, although I think this has been one of the longer strays. Each time, after a few weeks, I begin to feel a little more irritable and restless than usual, and the tiniest bit isolated. This takes its’ toll on every relationship I have…with my spouse, my boys, my coworkers, my friends...even my patients. I am more in a hurry when I needn’t be. I am more prone to worry about things that either I can’t change, or that I don’t want to put the effort into changing when I can. When I finally get myself back to church though, my perspective seems to bust out like a swollen river through a dilapidated flood wall.

My congregation is huge…we are considered one of the six or seven “super-churches” in my area. We have I don’t know how many thousands of members, and probably just as many more casual visitors on any one given event . We encompass three distinct buildings, the original “traditional” one , the newer “contemporary” one, and the newest of our congregations, but the oldest, smallest building, in a decidedly “urban” area. The common pastoral staff over these three “campuses” is a group of people who are amazing in the way they manage the administrative and spiritual needs of this multi-faceted congregation. Even more amazing is the sheer vibrance of this place. It is filled with the most loving, caring, compassionate people I know…people who possess a faith so solid I can only hope to grow into.

Like any “family” though, there are problems. Suffice it to say, for now anyway, that I am a somewhat liberal woman who is a member of a rather conservative congregation, where the recognized leadership is mostly male. A few of my personal beliefs, particularly those on human sexuality, are in direct conflict with those actually outlined in writing as the core teachings of my congregation. This is difficult for me…who am I to disagree with individuals so highly educated in religious history, practice and principle, and whose support, counsel, and yes, wisdom has always been a mainstay of my support system?; but there it is…I just can’t accept every core teaching, no matter how hard I try; but the one thing I am certain of is that I love this place, these people…and they love God, His creation, and I am humbled to know that they love me. This place, these people…are my home.

I wish I could say that this grand love I speak of was how I conquered my laziness, and got out of bed on Sunday morning to attend worship, but I can’t. I slept until noon , enjoyed a long, hot shower, primped in front of the makeup mirror, got dressed, and headed out in the early afternoon with my family to attend the Celebration service for the life of my friend Steve, of my most recent post. Steve died peacefully just over a week ago. This is a tremendous loss…not only for his family, but for many people. Steve was an incredibly loving, optimistic, accomplished man. To “meet” this wonderful man go to http://www.marriagejunkie.com/ (scroll down to the June 24 entry), and http://www.royalgazette.com/siftology.royalgazette/Article/article.jsp?articleId=7d8588f30030018&sectionId=118. Be sure to read his online journal as well, at www.caringbridge.org/visit/stevejudah.

So Steve, as he had been doing for most of his life, brought me, and I’m sure others, “back home”, even after his earthly death. During the service, his beautiful daughters and their husbands spoke of him, as did several of his friends and accomplished colleagues. What was central during each of these tributes was not only what an incredible man Steve was, but how many people whose relationships…with their spouses, their families, their children, their coworkers, their God…he guided towards wholeness, not only during his illustrious career, but during his dying as well.

It was a time filled bittersweet tears and almost raucous laughter, both a mourning and a true celebration. It was also a tremendous personal gift. Call it what you will…Coincidence, Divine inspiration, or simply enough of an emotional release to break open the “blocks” I’ve been experiencing...in my writing as well as my spiritual, physical, emotional, and professional well-being...when I left the service Sunday all confusion about my own earthly “transitions” seemed to have melted away. Decisions I had been wrestling with seemed to have suddenly become “no brainers”. I knew exactly in what direction I wanted to go, and I had some pretty reasonable ideas about how to get there. More importantly, I got just enough of a spiritual “kick in the backside” to realize what was most important, regardless how many twists, turns, and backslides my path will inevitably take...indeed, even if I never reach my anticipated goals. If I value , nurture, and above all love the people with whom I am in relationship, whatever the outcome, my life will be a good one…not easy…and certainly not without pain… but satisfying. Goals are good things; but it's the journey that counts.

What a relief; and what a tremendous blessing.

METAPHOR FOR STEVE

Years ago, my husband and I discovered a wonderful place to unwind and regroup at a rustic inn located in a hiker's wooded paradise an hour or so by car from our home. While we were there, I had the most profound conversation with the owner of the inn, Ellen...

Ellen had taken over the management of the inn from her mother, Ann, who had died several months before from mouth cancer. The inn had long been a dream of Ann's, one that she had been able to bring forth in spite of countless obstacles; and just as her dream was coming to fruition, she became ill. During her transition from life on this earth to whatever "hearafter" she, I, or anyone reading this might believe in,she wrote a short book..."A Journal of a Dying", that chronicled her last weeks, and the love, support and care she received from her daughter and woman-friends as they accompanied her to that door through which only she could pass.

After learning that I had once worked with a hospice organization, and was at the time, both a doula and a nursing student hoping to study midwifery, Ellen gave me a copy of her mother's journal to read. I spent three hours of a rainy Saturday, snuggled in a chair by the wood stove in the common room of the inn, and devoured the book. Ann spoke clearly to me, and whoever else had the opportunity to read her words, "hear" her voice through the pages she wrote while she waited to step into eternity. The last chapter of the book was written by Ellen, as Ann had lost the strength to write. It was a bittersweet ending, but one filled with the joy and hope brought by knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this life is not the total of our experience...it's just the beginning.

I was so overwhelmed by the book, that I sought out Ellen to tell her how much I loved it. She responded with the most amazing thoughts. I can't remember her words exactly, but they were something like this...

"I knew you would appreciate it. I remember having my own children; and while my mother was dying, I remember thinking how similar dying seemed to labor...it's unimaginable pain; it's incredibly hard work; the people you love do everything they can to help you through it, but you know that, ultimately, the only person who can do this is you; and just at about that point, a "peace" comes into the room; a laboring mother seems to become unaware of what's going on around her...she's moved inside of herself, accepting the inevitable, gathering all her will and power to get this done; the dying person begins to seem as if they have one foot in this world, and one in the world they are about to enter; and then, just when you think you you can't take another minute, not another second of this, a life tumbles into the room, or through to the next dimension, and there is sense of profound relief. No more pain, no more struggling. Lots of tears...but also a sense of joy...as bittersweet when a loved one dies, as it is a celebration when a loved one is born. It's two poles of the same experience".

I was speechless (and if you knew me, you'd know how extraordinary that is). Ellen's metaphor was so profound to me. I've never forgotten it. Indeed, I'm privileged to see this miracle of transition several times a week as I nurse mothers through their labors; I remember seeing it when I worked in hospice, and I saw it when I held vigil with my mother, my brother, and my sisters as my father died.

And now I'm seeing it with Steve...a wonderful, anointed, learned man, a special friend, someone who my husband and I, although we don't see him often, will miss dearly when he dies. I wrote this entry for Steve, his beautiful (in every sense of that word) wife Sharon, and their three equally beautiful daughters. Steve is dying. He's fought his disease with all the strength and resources at his disposal; and now he's accepted, probably more fully than anyone else, the inevitable outcome of his journey.

It isn't fair! He's too young. He and Sharon were just getting back to that "just you and me, kid" phase of their marriage when the responsibilities of parenting give way to more time for each other, and a future filled with grandchildren, travel, and many more happy expectations. He's well-known in his field...his contributions are huge...and there were many more to be made; but those are my gripes. Steve seems to have made his peace with it. Here, I want to share parts of the last few entries he's made in the online journal he keeps to communicate to his family, and to scores of friends, clients, and colleagues who love him dearly...

+++++


Wednesday, April 30, 2008, 10:22 PM, CDT

This is such a strange and surreal time - standing in the gap between earth and
eternity. I feel that all I need to do is
take a nap or exercise and then everything will be
normal. Then I recall that I'm wearing a powerful pain
patch, taking anti-nausea medications, am getting IV
fluids for advanced and terminal cancer. I'm blessed
to have wise medical counsel so that I can experience
these beautiful though surreal days of quality.

I believe that shortly I will be called into eternity. I will be
called by a new name and go to a place that has been prepared for
me. I will recognize my new name when I hear it. When we
encounter God, there's always a change. and often a struggle accompanies this transformation (ed. emphasis mine)
I'm living the struggle, encountering God in
new ways, being changed...


Friday, April 25, 2008, 04:37 PM, CDT - Greeting Friends and Family,

An interesting thing has been happening. Various persons have
responded to our current circumstance by saying that they feel
called by God to show love in a special way to us. I'd like
to put this in a larger context. Think of the words like
calling, promise, covenant. One way God calls us to serve is
by specifically laying on our hearts something that we can
promise to another person. For example, someone could say, 'I
promise to look out for you in your dating relationships with
young men in the absence of your father.

So times like this transition between earth and eternity
provide a special summons to think through these
opportunities. I want to challenge you to think about how
God may be calling you to make a divinely inspired
commitment, promise, or covenant to someone's needs that
you are keenly aware of and you are equipped to serve. Is
God speaking to you?

In this simple and practical way we are loving one another.
And that's what it is all about.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008 10:38 PM, CDT

Greeting Beloved. This is the most important message I've yet
sent to you from my perspective. This morning I h ad a most
surpassing spiritual experience. I want to place it into
three parts (1) the context, (2) the message, (3) and the
experience.

(1) The context is that we had just decided to pursue hospice
care in order to have quality of life for the remainder of my
life rather than furter treatments or interventions since my
diagnosis is terminal. I see th is as an opportunity to
celebrate the transition between earth and eternity. So with
this backdrop I went to sleep at 12:30 AM and awakened at 5:30
AM with an incredibly crystal clear message. The message
follows:

(2) Peace.
Life Death
Live a good life.
Do Good.
Accept Salvation through Christ.
Die.
Live Eternally.
Peace.

(3) Lastly let me convey the experience. I had the most
overwhelming experience of PEACE that I have ever had in
my life. So my wish for you is that you too find Peace
as God calls unto you.

I love you. thanks for your ceaseless prayers and support.
Steve.

+++++


This is the best way I could think of to pay tribute to such a
remarkable man, and his beautiful family...to share his words in context with the words Ellen shared with me all those years ago. In response to Steve's
encouragement to make a "covenant to someone's needs"...that I am "equipped to
serve", I'm blessed with several, at least. My estranged friend Kathy will be getting a bouquet of yellow roses on her 50th birthday this month (she's from Texas); I'm seeing my husband, and my love for him in a whole new light...and my life in a perspective that, while it is full of potential and possibilities I now
remember to remind myself is a gift, just as it is in the here and now; and I'm blessed
to be "equipped" to provide nursing care to women as they labor to bring their
babies into the world. I'm blessed to be able to say that this is my calling.

Steve's calling was to help people heal their relationships...with their partners, their families, their God, their selves. He continues to do so in no less
a profound way than he did while he shared his gift in countless books, journal articles, or, most importantly, face-to-face sharing with those he felt called to serve...and who felt called to reach out to him. His work has "given birth" to renewed marriages, healed relationships, and a unique form of therapeutic communication that is being taught and used with great success all over the world.

I can't quite bring myself to say the the words..."I will miss you, Steve". Because your presence will always be strong in your written works, and in the love you shared with the people you guided through pain to healing. It will be strong in my memories of your voice, your smile, and yep, that little sigh of frustration I could just barely hear, and that oh, so subtle quizzical look on your face when I just wasn't "getting it".

Steve, I "get it" now.

And I thank you.

Thanks. It seems like such a tiny word relative to all you have done for us.

That is how you loved your God; that is how you loved everyone who ever had the
privilege of meeting or knowing you.

And yes, that is certainly what it is all about..

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN......

??? I've been asking myself, at least in terms of this blog. After all my "talk" about needing to get back to writing, I should think I'd have been back here many times since my last post.

I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on myself. At the time of my last post, my family and I were in the process of moving to the most amazing house we've ever lived in. We absolutely love it. I do not, however, love the piles of laundry, and the piles of "stuff" in my dining room and garage which have yet to be unpacked and placed in their new "homes". I so look forward to the time that the house is organized, and I can return to making meals in my non-chaotic kitchen (we've become fast food junkies these past few weeks of transitioning), get back to swimming, which has gone on the back burner as of late, and especially get back to writing and working towards whatever future may present itself to me.

Sounds a little "new agey", doesn't it? "whatever future presents itself to me". Well, actually that is not an original idea of mine. I've started reading Eckhardt Tolles book that is being discussed by Oprah (yes, Oprah). As far as her online "class" goes, I have yet to participate live...I started behind and I hope to catch up to them by the last two classes...but I am enjoying the book. I'm not certain I agree with every idea that is presented in it, but that is precisely the point of the book...finding what works for you. In the first weeks' discussion between Mr. Tolle and Ms. Winfrey, Mr. Tolle, talks about his writing, and how the words just would not be written until the timing was right. He knew he wanted to write...but something just did not click until one day he received the thought "move"...and he moved from England to the West Coast of the U.S., at which time the words for his book began to tumble from his heart, to his head, out from his fingers onto the page. When he would return to England, he wasn't able to write new material...he could edit and proof, but new words wouldn't come to him.

Another point from the first chapter of this book was look at your life not as what you wanted to do with it, but what life wanted from you. That thought appealed to me. I love what I do right now...despite all of its frustrations; but I've always wondered if I want to continue it indefinitely. I don't think so. For one thing, the energy, both emotional and physical required by the job is tremendously stressful and tiring. For another thing, the frustrations of watching women submit themselves to a system which doesn't seem to respect them as rational, thinking, responsible human beings with the right and ability to make choices about their birth-giving times is overwhelming sometimes.

And then there is serendipity. That is the only word I can think of that describes so many of the things that have been placed in my path recently. Our new home, for example. Right now, for a number of reasons that may or may not come out in future posts, we are renting, rather than "buying" (if the way we "buy" our homes in this day and age truly constitutes ownership), our home. A year ago, when we thought our lease was about to expire, we went looking for, and thought we had found the "perfect" home to rescue us from our tiny, run-down half-double with it's growingly psychotic landlord and deteriorating neighborhood, we found out, much to our dismay, that a clause I missed prior to signing the lease required three months notice prior to the expiration of the lease date, in order for the lease not to automatically renew for another year! I was crushed! Although the clause was very unusual (that is to say, unheard of), according to the legal research I did, getting out of that lease would have been a nightmare of what was already a nightmare of living next to a landlord who was quickly becoming insolvent, and who would do just about anything to keep from losing one of the only renters (me), who paid him on time. We decided to "table" our house-hunt, waited out the year, gave our three months notice, not knowing where we would end up, and one day my husband walked into the door and said I've found an amazing house. You have to see it. I did, and I loved it...it's practically perfect for our needs, and we never would have found it if we had been able to follow our origial plan for our first "perfect" prospective home.

Another perhaps serendipitous occurrence happened a few nights ago at work. Things were a little slow, (unusually so), and I took the opportunity to ask a Nurse Midwife who happened to be on the floor that night what made her risk getting her CNM when she needed to stay in a town that had so little openings for them. Her response was that at the time, her family would have been able to move with her upon graduation, but she "lucked out" and found her current position. She then proceeded to tell me something that I was not aware of, that the opportunities for CNMs in our city are opening up, and began to name them....

And off I went, once again considering the huge step of going back to school at my age, to get a masters. There are a lot of things up in the air regarding that quest...and a number of things I feel I should do before I seriously pursue it...get organzied at home, get certified in Women and Infant Nursing, and as a childbirth educator, study for, and take the GRE (it will take a high score for me to be considered a truly competitive candidate), and to take the local Community college up on its offer of a part time teaching job. Each of these steps can be accomplished in the next year and a half, and, with the exception of the GRE, each will serve to provide me with additional knowledge and "fall back" skills, whatever I end up choosing...rather, whatever Life (or God, or the Universe) chooses for me to do.

Who was it that said "The journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step"?

Time to take that first step.

Why am I "in Transition"?...

...For a lot of reasons. I'm not willing to say just how old I am yet (early midlife will have to suffice for now), but I am getting to that point in my life where the transitions are more about getting older than they are about growing up. My boys are teenagers now...the older of the two will graduate from high school in a few months and head off to Marine Corps Boot Camp (reservist for now), and then start college. My youngest will graduate in two and a half more short years. The empty nest looms.

I hate saying this, but I can't stay solely a Labor nurse indefinitely. I love what I do, despite its frustrations and the tendency to burnout; but it's taxing work, physically and emotionally. I wonder sometimes just how long my back and knees will hold out. Losing weight and exercising will help that tremendously, but there has to be a limit. There are a couple of nurses on my unit who have worked until retirement (over age 60), and even come back in a limited capacity...a shift or two every week or so. They inspire me. Emotionally the work can be rough as well. I know this sounds sexist, but it's unfortunately true...wherever the work force is dominated by females, witchiness happens. I get tired of the constant bitching and gossiping. Not that everyone is that way, nor do the ones that do it do it all the time; but it does affect moral on the unit, and for me, tends to burnout. Hospitals being what they are (a business as well as a service), dealing with the "corporateness" of it all can be frustrating; and finally, particularly because I work on a unit that deals with a lot of high-risk situations, and a lot of patients who live in not-so-good situations, the work can be emotionally taxing. Optimism can be hard to come by sometimes. Having said that, I do work with some amazing women, incredibly skilled and experienced nurses from whom I have learned much; and I have experienced many rewards in working will all kinds of families.

I need to generate more income. I didn't graduate from nursing school until I was 40, and I still have the student loan debt and lack of retirement savings to show for it. I'm looking at ways I can do that...teaching, consulting, maybe even writing. Teaching, particularly looks like it will happen before long; I've been talking with a local community college about becoming a part-time clinical instructor and occasional lecturer in their program; that will entail reducing my hours in my current job, and working during a different time of day during the part of the week I'm teaching (I'm a confirmed night-shifter), and that will be a big, if welcome change. Change can be challenging...even the good changes.

Finally, I still think about getting an advanced degree. At my age, I wonder if it will be "worth it"; but there is so much I want to do that a Masters or even higher degree might open the door to;and there is so much to learn. I just wonder if there is time enough to do it before retirement. I can't imagine ever being completely retired...I'll always want to stay involved in my field as long as I can, in at least some small way...but the reality is that the older you get, the less opportunity there can be, in terms of employment, unless you're in upper management...and even then ageism can get you, even if it technically is illegal. Financially, it will be difficult to justify the extra expense of another degree if something doesn't change drastically in my finances.

There is always hope.