For those that have lost loved ones, you will understand this. I have a picture of my dad in our bedroom. He died over 13 years ago. I glanced at it the other night and it brought back a wave of internal grief that was exhibited in a long, deliberate sigh.
I deal with death, regularly, as a hospice chaplain. It never ceases to amaze me how the memories, pictures, smells, scenes, and many other things can trigger grief. It used to be taught that the five stages of grief was linear; that you go through the stages and then that's it. It is, in fact, cyclical where it is never ending and can jump from stage 1 to 5 to 3 to 1 to 4 and back to 2, etc. I find myself still jumping around these stages 13 years later and will for the rest of my life.
TO SUM IT UP:
I still miss my dad.
God is enough.
I will see dad, again, in heaven.
Swan Dive
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
It's Not Work
It has been said that if you love what you do, it's not work. That being said, I love what I do for a living as a hospice chaplain. Those that really know me can attest that I love to help people and meet their deepest needs. Today, I had one of those moments where I was able to do just that.
I believe that the two most moving life moments are when a baby is born and when a person dies. It was a moving and breath taking moment to hear the screams of both my boys as they took their first breaths of air out of the womb, especially following the loss of our 9 day old premature daughter who we were never able to hear her cry.
It is also a moving a breath taking moment to be in the midst of someone who breaths their last breath. I have been with parishioners in my church during these moments as well as my own flesh and blood. These birth and death moments are sacred and hallowed whereby God brought to life and ceased to exist.
I went to the bedside of a patient today where they were surrounded by their loved ones. After being there for approximately one hour, the patient slipped peacefully from this earth into the presence of Jesus. Being that the patient and entire family were believers in Christ, it made it all the more helpful to console them as they have the Hope that they will see their loved one again in heaven.
After the patient died, the family and I went to an area to pray away from the patient. As we were walking down a hallway, a family member said that we all needed to go to a room and let the chaplain talk to us. As this family member said that, I realized once again what an awesome privilege and responsibility I have as a spiritual shepherd in times like this to share the Word of God and to pray with them. As I read from John 14 about not letting our hearts be troubled, the family began to share intimate moments about their loved one.
As a pastor or chaplain, we often are invited to walk alongside a family in the midst of their darkest hour. And it is a privilege that we do not take for granted. To be able to share the comfort that God gives in these times is not work, it what the body of Christ does. Whether you're a pastor, chaplain, business person, waitress, teacher, lawyer, or plumber, when we are used by God to help people in need, it's not work, it is being the hands and feet of Jesus.
I believe that the two most moving life moments are when a baby is born and when a person dies. It was a moving and breath taking moment to hear the screams of both my boys as they took their first breaths of air out of the womb, especially following the loss of our 9 day old premature daughter who we were never able to hear her cry.
It is also a moving a breath taking moment to be in the midst of someone who breaths their last breath. I have been with parishioners in my church during these moments as well as my own flesh and blood. These birth and death moments are sacred and hallowed whereby God brought to life and ceased to exist.
I went to the bedside of a patient today where they were surrounded by their loved ones. After being there for approximately one hour, the patient slipped peacefully from this earth into the presence of Jesus. Being that the patient and entire family were believers in Christ, it made it all the more helpful to console them as they have the Hope that they will see their loved one again in heaven.
After the patient died, the family and I went to an area to pray away from the patient. As we were walking down a hallway, a family member said that we all needed to go to a room and let the chaplain talk to us. As this family member said that, I realized once again what an awesome privilege and responsibility I have as a spiritual shepherd in times like this to share the Word of God and to pray with them. As I read from John 14 about not letting our hearts be troubled, the family began to share intimate moments about their loved one.
As a pastor or chaplain, we often are invited to walk alongside a family in the midst of their darkest hour. And it is a privilege that we do not take for granted. To be able to share the comfort that God gives in these times is not work, it what the body of Christ does. Whether you're a pastor, chaplain, business person, waitress, teacher, lawyer, or plumber, when we are used by God to help people in need, it's not work, it is being the hands and feet of Jesus.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Some One in the air
I felt God's presence today in the bedroom of a hospice patient I was visiting today. As I sang some great hymns of the faith to this patient (I Must Tell Jesus, What A Day That Will Be, He Hideth My Soul, and When We All Get to Heaven), I could sense the presence of God with us. It was as if he stirred the air of the room and filled it with His presence. God is so good!
There’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place
And I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord
There are sweet expressions on each face
And I know they feel the presence of the Lord
Sweet Holy Spirit... sweet heavenly dove...
Stay right here with us
Filling us with Your love
And for these blessings
We lift our hearts in praise
Without a doubt we know
That we’ll have been revived
When we shall leave this place
And I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord
There are sweet expressions on each face
And I know they feel the presence of the Lord
Sweet Holy Spirit... sweet heavenly dove...
Stay right here with us
Filling us with Your love
And for these blessings
We lift our hearts in praise
Without a doubt we know
That we’ll have been revived
When we shall leave this place
Monday, June 25, 2012
Funeral Plans?
Having worked as a hospice chaplain for the past 5 1/2 months, I have come to meet many different kinds of people. There have been some really interesting people and there have also been some people that made you wonder "What in the world?"
Regardless of the type of person I've met, I have learned a few things in this journey of ministering to hospice patients and their families.
Regardless of the type of person I've met, I have learned a few things in this journey of ministering to hospice patients and their families.
- Live with no regrets - it seems as though some people (not all) come to the end of their life with some regrets. Live each day to the fullest and make memories that will live last long past your exit from this earth.
- Make the most of every opportunity - some moments only come by once in a blue moon, seize it and take the bull by the horns.
- Cherish each moment - never let a day go by without telling your family that you love them. Never go to bed angry. Smile. And always say "thank you".
- Plan your funeral - this may sound morbid, but if you haven't planned for your funeral, then somebody else (perhaps a grieving family member) is going to have to do it. If you plan your own funeral, then you can have some fun "surprises" for everyone to laugh about and make more memories for people to remember at your funeral.
- Make peace - with your family, friend, and ultimately, with God. Some patients linger until that final loved one makes it in from out-of-town to tell them it's okay for them to leave. If we know God, then death is something we should not fear, but embrace for soon you will be face-to-face with Him.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Easter - An ordinary day?
Today marked the first Easter in 14 years that I did not have any responsibilities as a pastor. It was quite interesting to sit back and do nothing "pastoral" and worship with the crowd. At first, I thought that it was going to be one of our "new" ordinary days as a family (post-pastorate) going to church together and having a wonderful meal at home or some fancy restaurant. Today turned out to be an exception.
Karen volunteers one Sunday a month, along with several from The Bridge Church, to make lunch and serve it at the Mooresville Soup Kitchen. Today was the day for our church to go to the soup kitchen. While Karen, in her college days, would go to a soup kitchen in Cincinnati and serve others in this capacity, I had never done it before. I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled about our family being "separated" during the Easter Sunday Service worshiping in two different venues at the same time.
I am so thankful for the grace of our Lord Jesus that He so freely gives us when we don't deserve it. This morning before Karen left for the soup kitchen, I had a "moment". I define a "moment" where all my emotions came out in liquid form: tears. I was experiencing some sorrow, some mixed emotions, and even some anger and resentment along with wallowing in some self-pity. When you package all of those together, I was somewhat of a mess.
Karen left and I began getting ready for church. I had my Panora playing some Easter music while in the bathroom. God came in and showered me with His grace while shaving and brushing my teeth and showed me that this was no ordinary day. It was a day that would be remembered for generations to come until God comes back for us. It was a day that reminds me that His power reigns over death. It was a day that reminds us that Jesus humbled Himself to the point of death - submission to His Father's plan. And that plan involved a resurrection.
Thank you, God, for reminding this mess what you did for me on this day long ago. You died for my sins and rose again on the third day. When You died and rose from the grave, You made it possible for all who believe in You to have everlasting life. Thank you that this day is about You and not me. It's all about You, O God, it's all about You.
Karen volunteers one Sunday a month, along with several from The Bridge Church, to make lunch and serve it at the Mooresville Soup Kitchen. Today was the day for our church to go to the soup kitchen. While Karen, in her college days, would go to a soup kitchen in Cincinnati and serve others in this capacity, I had never done it before. I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled about our family being "separated" during the Easter Sunday Service worshiping in two different venues at the same time.
I am so thankful for the grace of our Lord Jesus that He so freely gives us when we don't deserve it. This morning before Karen left for the soup kitchen, I had a "moment". I define a "moment" where all my emotions came out in liquid form: tears. I was experiencing some sorrow, some mixed emotions, and even some anger and resentment along with wallowing in some self-pity. When you package all of those together, I was somewhat of a mess.
Karen left and I began getting ready for church. I had my Panora playing some Easter music while in the bathroom. God came in and showered me with His grace while shaving and brushing my teeth and showed me that this was no ordinary day. It was a day that would be remembered for generations to come until God comes back for us. It was a day that reminds me that His power reigns over death. It was a day that reminds us that Jesus humbled Himself to the point of death - submission to His Father's plan. And that plan involved a resurrection.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no Easter.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no reason to want to serve others at a soup kitchen.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no hope of seeing loved ones in heaven who've gone on before us.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no reason to crucify self and live for the One who made it possible to be able to put to death the old carnal nature and live in the power of the Holy Spirit.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no forgiveness.
- Without the resurrection, there would be no sacrifice and atonement once for all.
Thank you, God, for reminding this mess what you did for me on this day long ago. You died for my sins and rose again on the third day. When You died and rose from the grave, You made it possible for all who believe in You to have everlasting life. Thank you that this day is about You and not me. It's all about You, O God, it's all about You.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Hasta Manna
No, you're not reading a misprint. I meant to say "Hasta Manna". Today marked 6 Sundays since leaving the pastorate and the Lord continues to teach me new things. One day this week I was talking to a former pastoral colleague who reminded me of God's provision to the Israelites in Exodus 16. God rained down manna (bread) from heaven to meet the Israelites daily need. The Israelites were to gather what they needed for that day and no more. God provided for them daily the manna from heaven.
I have had that experience lately, that is, God providing for me and my family. As we stepped out in faith to what God had led us to do, we knew that there would be some challenges. As we have come face-to-face to these challenges, we have seen God provide manna to rain down on us and meet the need right on time; not a moment too soon and not a moment too late.
The spanish word "hasta" means "until". God calls each of us to be faithful until He takes takes us home to be with Him. It doesn't mean to be faithful until times get tough. It doesn't mean to be faithful until we get tired or worn out. It doesn't mean to be faithful until God seems silent and we attempt in our own strength. We are to be faithful until God calls us home. God will provide the manna we need to make it through this life if we are faithful and obedient to His will for our life.
Living on manna means being faithful to God knowing that He knows what you need and when you need it. Living on manna is exciting because sometimes you may not know, literally, where your next meal may come from or how you will pay all your bills this month or how you will make it through the week. When God rains manna down on you, you will leap and rejoice because you realize He loves you so much to leave you in the wilderness to starve and die. What God has planned for you, He will see you through it and provide all that you need to complete His will for you.
I have had that experience lately, that is, God providing for me and my family. As we stepped out in faith to what God had led us to do, we knew that there would be some challenges. As we have come face-to-face to these challenges, we have seen God provide manna to rain down on us and meet the need right on time; not a moment too soon and not a moment too late.
The spanish word "hasta" means "until". God calls each of us to be faithful until He takes takes us home to be with Him. It doesn't mean to be faithful until times get tough. It doesn't mean to be faithful until we get tired or worn out. It doesn't mean to be faithful until God seems silent and we attempt in our own strength. We are to be faithful until God calls us home. God will provide the manna we need to make it through this life if we are faithful and obedient to His will for our life.
Living on manna means being faithful to God knowing that He knows what you need and when you need it. Living on manna is exciting because sometimes you may not know, literally, where your next meal may come from or how you will pay all your bills this month or how you will make it through the week. When God rains manna down on you, you will leap and rejoice because you realize He loves you so much to leave you in the wilderness to starve and die. What God has planned for you, He will see you through it and provide all that you need to complete His will for you.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Fish Out of Water
When you take a fish out of water it flops around until you put it back in the water. The fish needs the oxygen in the water to live. When it is out of the water, it feels like is it suffocating due to lack of oxygen.
For a few weeks, I have felt like a fish out of water as I left the pastorate and began working as a hospice chaplain. Adjusting new a new work schedule, not being able to drop off or pick up Devon from school, changing from a Christian work environment to a secular, corporate work environment, and a few others I cannot mention due to confidentiality reasons have led me to metaphorically flop on the dock like a fish out of water.
That is until one day this week when I was released back into the water and saw the impact of my new job on a family who lost their loved one. On one particular day this week, my schedule was set in stone for the day (or so I thought) and through a series of events, my schedule got juggled. As a result, I made a trip earlier than planned to a patient and their family. Upon arriving I spent 20 or so minutes visiting with the family and then gathered around the patient holding hands with the family and prayed. During my prayer, the patient went to be with the Lord.
God knew where I needed to be on that particular day at that exact time and it was to be with that family at the point where their loved one left this earth to be with Jesus. Like a fish being thrown back into the water, I am swimming in the water filled the rich grace and knowledge of God knowing that this is where He has brought me and will use me for His glory.
Swimming in His grace is where I want to be. Swimming in the center of His will for my life is where I want to be. Swimming under the spillway of his love is where I want to be. Do you want to go swimming with me?
For a few weeks, I have felt like a fish out of water as I left the pastorate and began working as a hospice chaplain. Adjusting new a new work schedule, not being able to drop off or pick up Devon from school, changing from a Christian work environment to a secular, corporate work environment, and a few others I cannot mention due to confidentiality reasons have led me to metaphorically flop on the dock like a fish out of water.
That is until one day this week when I was released back into the water and saw the impact of my new job on a family who lost their loved one. On one particular day this week, my schedule was set in stone for the day (or so I thought) and through a series of events, my schedule got juggled. As a result, I made a trip earlier than planned to a patient and their family. Upon arriving I spent 20 or so minutes visiting with the family and then gathered around the patient holding hands with the family and prayed. During my prayer, the patient went to be with the Lord.
God knew where I needed to be on that particular day at that exact time and it was to be with that family at the point where their loved one left this earth to be with Jesus. Like a fish being thrown back into the water, I am swimming in the water filled the rich grace and knowledge of God knowing that this is where He has brought me and will use me for His glory.
Swimming in His grace is where I want to be. Swimming in the center of His will for my life is where I want to be. Swimming under the spillway of his love is where I want to be. Do you want to go swimming with me?
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