“Starting today we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and begin again the work of remaking America. For everywhere we look there is work to be done.”
- President Barack Obama
I had to pull over onto the side of the road the other day, and just sit, and listen, and be thankful, and pray. I was listening to President Obama’s Inaugural Speech on NPR, having just left our new Superior Court Judge Currie Mingledorff’s office, after a brief but very inspiring interview.
The thing that overwhelmed me, and brought tears to my eyes, was the profound sense of humility and sincere desire to serve that seems to fill both of these men’s hearts.
President Obama used the words “humble,” “mindful,” and “grateful” to describe part of his approach to being the 44th President of the United States. He spoke of the “spirit of service” our nation will need, if we’re going to pull out of and recover from the many challenges now facing us individually, and, as a nation. He spoke of the “tempering qualities of humility and restraint,” and of our collective opportunity to “choose our better history.”
Tear-producing and profoundly inspiring stuff, that.
I interviewed our own, newly elected Superior Court Judge, Currie Mingledorff, just before the inaugural address began, and he spoke of many of the same things. He called service both “an obligation and a privilege.” He spoke about how important humility has always been to him. He talked of his deep recognition of his own blessings, and of his sincere desire to “give back.”
President Obama was sworn into office with his hand on the Bible that was used to swear Abraham Lincoln into the same office. Imagine that! Judge Mingledorff has a print of a painting in his office of George Washington, formally dressed, kneeling in the snow next to his horse, praying. Washingon and the horse, also formally festooned, look as if they were headed to some state event when our first President stopped, for a moment, to seek God’s counsel.
“That picture means a lot to me,” Judge Mingledorff said. “It’s about the great strength that comes with recognizing how little one knows…Humility…and, the knowledge that we are dependent on our Maker…Even George Washington knew when he needed to ask for help.”
One thing both President Obama and our new Superior Court Judge emphasize is the need for us all to be involved – for us all to serve. Throughout his campaign, and in his inaugural speech, President Obama challenges us - each and every one - to action.
“We’re all frail…and, we’re all in this together,” Judge Mingledorff said. “We’re all supposed to help and serve each other, through our whole lives…”
A week or so ago, I had the opportunity to spend some equally inspiring time with a group of every day citizens who are already doing their part to answer the call. They were the 16 new volunteers, being trained to become Court Appointed Special Advocates (to serve in our local judicial circuit’s CASA program) for children in the foster care system.
They were a diverse group – different races, ages, and professions - in different stages of life. One couple, Jeremy and T.C. Howard, said they’d been foster parents for years. They’d decided to close their home, but “wanted to continue serving the kids.”
Lisa Bramlett said she’d “worked in the court system” and had “seen how many kids need someone to help and advocate for them….I’ve been blessed with a wonderful life, and now I want to give back.”
Retired family advocate, Debbie Rosselle, said she “was an abused child,” and “had been fortunate enough to use that experience to help kids.” Dwight Acey, a retired probation officer, said he’d spent 20 years working case loads of “drug dealers, users, predators, rapists, thieves and murderers,” and he saw being a volunteer CASA as an “opportunity to work on the other end…hopefully help intervene before these kids go down those paths…”
What does this group of volunteers – including a pest control man, a recently unemployed mother of a newborn, an Army wife with two teenagers, a realtor with two kids in the Navy, a retired teacher and a school bus driver – have in common with our recently elected President and Superior Court Judge?
The desire to serve, a recognition of blessings, and the need to “give something back.”
“You can’t help everyone,” retired probation officer turned volunteer CASA Acey said, “but you can make an effort and that effort pays off with some…I just want to be of value - of use to the court and of use to the children.”
It’s an exciting and challenging time, folks. There are plenty of ways to serve - our community, our nation, the world at large.
“Yes, we can!” so many of us chanted, for so many months. Now, “Let’s get started!” can be our new battle cry.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Triple A's
“A lifetime is like a flash of lightning in the sky, rushing by, like a torrent down a steep mountain.”
-- Siddhartha Guatama Buddha
As you may or may not recall, one of my jobs is serving as an ER social worker in a busy regional hospital. This crazy, taxing, spiritual work delivers life lessons on almost every shift, and for that I remain ever thankful.
The other day a really bizarre thing happened.
We got two “triple A’s” (aortic aneurisms) within an hour of each other. Aortic aneurisms are the rupture of the aortic blood vessel. They cause pain, internal hemorrhage, and without prompt treatment, quick death. A “triple A” is quite rare, and often fatal, so the notion that I had to help two families deal with this potentially catastrophic event within the span of a single hour was particularly daunting…
The first man was in his early 60’s, with no medical history to speak of. He’d been having some belly and back pain for the past few days, and finally went to a walk-in clinic. They promptly sent him to the ER, as his belly was full of blood due to an aortic rupture that was rapidly reaching fatal proportions. He needed surgery and he needed it now.
This man was a low-key, happy-seeming fellow, well-dressed, kind and jovial. When I asked him who I should call, given that he was headed to surgery within minutes, he said, “Call my wife and have her call John – the sheep need to be fed and John can do that. My wife just had surgery herself, so I’m not sure she can get here…just be sure she tells John to feed the sheep.”
I made the calls, and his wife’s pastor arranged for a church member to pick his wife up and get her to the hospital, so she could be there when - and if - he woke up. (Aortic aneurisms have a 50-percent mortality rate.)
I let the surgeon and the nurse know what was happening, and the man’s parting words - as he was rolled off to a critical surgery - were, “Be sure my wife has John feed the sheep. It’s going to be cold tonight…”
The second “triple A” patient came in shortly thereafter.
He was in his early 70’s, and, like the first man, had been having belly pain for a few days – only his was more acute. His wife and son were with him, and they both looked haggard, and afraid, and very strong and hopeful when they were in the room with him.
The surgeon told his wife that her husband was “very sick” and “has a 50-50 chance of surviving this surgery.”
“We will do everything we can to save your husband,” the surgeon said, “but it’s in God’s hands…Call your family and friends. You’re going to need support to get through this, whatever the outcome is.”
That man’s wife, tearfully, and so bravely said, “We will be fine, no matter what happens...It’s in God’s hands now, and we trust God, no matter what…”
I stopped for a moment, replayed her words in my mind, and got back in touch with what really matters…So strong and clear, some of these ER families are…This woman, whose life was just fine about four hours ago, has now heard that her husband has a 50-50 chance of surviving the surgery he must have, to have any chance of survival at all…How crazy must her life feel right now?
Both men survived their surgeries.
No small miracle there.
How thankful both those families must be…And, how strange and wonderful it must be to go home, having paid a visit to death’s door and not passed through…
The thing I took home with me, after that ER day, was a renewed understanding of just how fleeting and fragile life is…One minute a man is feeding his sheep or headed to the office. The next minute he’s flat on his back on a hospital gurney, hearing that he has a 50-50 chance of surviving the surgery he’s about to have...
In other ER cases I’ve attended, the same lesson…One minute a UGA student is sailing down a hill on his bike...He hits a rock in the road and crashes…His backpack and papers fly everywhere…He ends up in the hospital with a bad brain bleed, no idea of who or where he is…
A young mother is headed to work, dropping her kids off at school on the way…An early morning drunk driver runs a stop sign and hits their car…The kids are okay, but mom has suffered a potentially fatal injury…Dad hasn’t been involved in years…Who to call to come take care of these kids?
An elderly couple, out for an afternoon of errands…The wife is driving because her vision is better…She makes a left turn into a shopping center, not seeing the 18-wheeler that has just run a yellow light in front of her…The truck hits their car…The wife is fine, but the husband, seated on the right side of the car, where the 18-wheeler just hit, is instantly killed by the truck’s impact…What does she do now, to go on living without her 50+ year companion?
Every day we get up, and go about our business, as if going about that business is guaranteed…The thing to remember is that going about that business is not guaranteed. Every day we get, that passes disaster free, is a profound blessing…Others will not be so lucky today…I’m not sure what we do with this information, except try, and try again, to be appreciative and thankful of each calamity-free day we are blessed with…and, to pray for and help as we best can, those whose calamity has come on this day…
-- Siddhartha Guatama Buddha
As you may or may not recall, one of my jobs is serving as an ER social worker in a busy regional hospital. This crazy, taxing, spiritual work delivers life lessons on almost every shift, and for that I remain ever thankful.
The other day a really bizarre thing happened.
We got two “triple A’s” (aortic aneurisms) within an hour of each other. Aortic aneurisms are the rupture of the aortic blood vessel. They cause pain, internal hemorrhage, and without prompt treatment, quick death. A “triple A” is quite rare, and often fatal, so the notion that I had to help two families deal with this potentially catastrophic event within the span of a single hour was particularly daunting…
The first man was in his early 60’s, with no medical history to speak of. He’d been having some belly and back pain for the past few days, and finally went to a walk-in clinic. They promptly sent him to the ER, as his belly was full of blood due to an aortic rupture that was rapidly reaching fatal proportions. He needed surgery and he needed it now.
This man was a low-key, happy-seeming fellow, well-dressed, kind and jovial. When I asked him who I should call, given that he was headed to surgery within minutes, he said, “Call my wife and have her call John – the sheep need to be fed and John can do that. My wife just had surgery herself, so I’m not sure she can get here…just be sure she tells John to feed the sheep.”
I made the calls, and his wife’s pastor arranged for a church member to pick his wife up and get her to the hospital, so she could be there when - and if - he woke up. (Aortic aneurisms have a 50-percent mortality rate.)
I let the surgeon and the nurse know what was happening, and the man’s parting words - as he was rolled off to a critical surgery - were, “Be sure my wife has John feed the sheep. It’s going to be cold tonight…”
The second “triple A” patient came in shortly thereafter.
He was in his early 70’s, and, like the first man, had been having belly pain for a few days – only his was more acute. His wife and son were with him, and they both looked haggard, and afraid, and very strong and hopeful when they were in the room with him.
The surgeon told his wife that her husband was “very sick” and “has a 50-50 chance of surviving this surgery.”
“We will do everything we can to save your husband,” the surgeon said, “but it’s in God’s hands…Call your family and friends. You’re going to need support to get through this, whatever the outcome is.”
That man’s wife, tearfully, and so bravely said, “We will be fine, no matter what happens...It’s in God’s hands now, and we trust God, no matter what…”
I stopped for a moment, replayed her words in my mind, and got back in touch with what really matters…So strong and clear, some of these ER families are…This woman, whose life was just fine about four hours ago, has now heard that her husband has a 50-50 chance of surviving the surgery he must have, to have any chance of survival at all…How crazy must her life feel right now?
Both men survived their surgeries.
No small miracle there.
How thankful both those families must be…And, how strange and wonderful it must be to go home, having paid a visit to death’s door and not passed through…
The thing I took home with me, after that ER day, was a renewed understanding of just how fleeting and fragile life is…One minute a man is feeding his sheep or headed to the office. The next minute he’s flat on his back on a hospital gurney, hearing that he has a 50-50 chance of surviving the surgery he’s about to have...
In other ER cases I’ve attended, the same lesson…One minute a UGA student is sailing down a hill on his bike...He hits a rock in the road and crashes…His backpack and papers fly everywhere…He ends up in the hospital with a bad brain bleed, no idea of who or where he is…
A young mother is headed to work, dropping her kids off at school on the way…An early morning drunk driver runs a stop sign and hits their car…The kids are okay, but mom has suffered a potentially fatal injury…Dad hasn’t been involved in years…Who to call to come take care of these kids?
An elderly couple, out for an afternoon of errands…The wife is driving because her vision is better…She makes a left turn into a shopping center, not seeing the 18-wheeler that has just run a yellow light in front of her…The truck hits their car…The wife is fine, but the husband, seated on the right side of the car, where the 18-wheeler just hit, is instantly killed by the truck’s impact…What does she do now, to go on living without her 50+ year companion?
Every day we get up, and go about our business, as if going about that business is guaranteed…The thing to remember is that going about that business is not guaranteed. Every day we get, that passes disaster free, is a profound blessing…Others will not be so lucky today…I’m not sure what we do with this information, except try, and try again, to be appreciative and thankful of each calamity-free day we are blessed with…and, to pray for and help as we best can, those whose calamity has come on this day…
Monday, January 12, 2009
Lost Boys
“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing…” – Peter Pan
My daughter gave me a beautiful, hand calligraphed print of that phrase for Christmas. It features a pirate ship, also beautifully calligraphed, and is signed, “from your Wendy and the Lost Boys.”
It was a particularly special gift because it was a sort of commemoration of how I raised my kids, and a statement that, at least my daughter, was glad things had been that way.
Our home was always more like the Island of Lost Boys, than a well-run British flat. There was no nanny, not so many rules, lots of pets and friends over, and plenty of sweets. I made sure it was a safe environment, but beyond that, chaos often seemed to have the upper hand – which was fine with me.
You see, I believe kids are a little like weeds. They thrive under a bit of neglect, which in this case means simply, not being tended to (and scheduled) all of the time.
I grew up in the early ‘60’s, before there were video games, IPODs, DVD players, text messaging or LOTS of scheduled activities for children to participate in. Back then, most of our moms stayed home, and we spent our after-school and summer hours roaming the neighborhood, creating our own games and fun. Back then sugar was okay and learning to amuse ourselves was a requirement.
I applied many of the same rules as my kids grew up in the early ‘80s. “No TV after school, no electronics or TV at the dinner table…play outside, A LOT…no avoiding human or family contact with headphones and such….and, sugar, in moderation, is just fine.” I wanted my kids to learn to experience life, and all of its’ challenges and adventures – without the buffer that the constant use of electronics or chronic over-scheduling can bring…
On car trips my kids did what my brother and I had done – play games, stare out the window, taunt each other subtly enough that the parents wouldn’t be alerted, and pass the time imagining things…the motto being, “What would the Lost Boys do?”
Time in quiet places, like church or the library was spent drawing and dreaming and sucking on Lifesavers. There were no tiny computers or DVD players or IPODs to help pass the time…We were simply there, in the trenches of quiet time together, without the isolation electronic devices seem to impart on the families who rely on them so heavily.
The point is, I think children these days are missing out. With all of the activities their parents enroll them in, and our society’s growing tolerance for the near constant use of electronics, kids are left little time for playing and imagining things…
It makes me sad to see the kid in church, on his tiny computer game, earphones in place, oblivious to the magic and wonder of the stained glass windows, the preacher’s low voice, and the organ’s majestic tones.
It makes me sad to see the flower girl in a wedding so tied to her tiny DVD player and the movie it’s playing – a movie she’s seen 500 times – that she misses the fun of being with the big girls on the wedding day, watching the bride and getting really excited about dropping those petals along that aisle.
It makes me sad to see teenagers so tied to their IPODs, that they are virtually not present at family events, dinners and holidays…
What we create - when we schedule our children so heavily and allow/encourage them to be so constantly in need of entertainment - is a culture devoid of imagination and unable to amuse itself during the down times – and, life as a grown up certainly has more than its’ share of down, tedious, or simply un-amusing times.
Too many of the grown-up children of today are unable to focus on the task at hand - no matter how well-paying and important that task might be. At work, I see them texting, and instant messaging, and surfing the web and it annoys me. Can’t they just “hang up and drive?”
Something very magical, useful and real gets lost when we no longer encourage, or indeed, expect our children to be able to create their own adventures…Back in the day, the Lost Boys could imagine their thin soup was a magnificent feast…My children could become astronauts on the moon, while riding in the backseat of a car…Somehow, it seems now, the adventure, spontaneity, and joy of life gets scheduled or Video-gamed away…
A few weeks ago, I was taking photos of a family for their holiday card. The little girl, age four, wouldn’t smile – not for anything. Finally, in exasperation, her mother sent her upstairs to “look at (her) personal responsibility chart” and “remind (herself) that today’s responsibility was to smile nicely for the photos.” My heart just broke. No wonder that child can’t smile. She’s got the weight of the world on those tiny shoulders – at the age of four!
“‘Pan, what are you?’ Hook asked huskily. ‘I’m youth. I’m joy. I’m a little bird that has broken out of an egg,’” Pan replied…Isn’t that what we want for our kids?
Nowadays, Pan might’ve been so busy with his I-Tunes that he wouldn’t have even heard Hook, let alone replied…And, how sad is that!
My daughter gave me a beautiful, hand calligraphed print of that phrase for Christmas. It features a pirate ship, also beautifully calligraphed, and is signed, “from your Wendy and the Lost Boys.”
It was a particularly special gift because it was a sort of commemoration of how I raised my kids, and a statement that, at least my daughter, was glad things had been that way.
Our home was always more like the Island of Lost Boys, than a well-run British flat. There was no nanny, not so many rules, lots of pets and friends over, and plenty of sweets. I made sure it was a safe environment, but beyond that, chaos often seemed to have the upper hand – which was fine with me.
You see, I believe kids are a little like weeds. They thrive under a bit of neglect, which in this case means simply, not being tended to (and scheduled) all of the time.
I grew up in the early ‘60’s, before there were video games, IPODs, DVD players, text messaging or LOTS of scheduled activities for children to participate in. Back then, most of our moms stayed home, and we spent our after-school and summer hours roaming the neighborhood, creating our own games and fun. Back then sugar was okay and learning to amuse ourselves was a requirement.
I applied many of the same rules as my kids grew up in the early ‘80s. “No TV after school, no electronics or TV at the dinner table…play outside, A LOT…no avoiding human or family contact with headphones and such….and, sugar, in moderation, is just fine.” I wanted my kids to learn to experience life, and all of its’ challenges and adventures – without the buffer that the constant use of electronics or chronic over-scheduling can bring…
On car trips my kids did what my brother and I had done – play games, stare out the window, taunt each other subtly enough that the parents wouldn’t be alerted, and pass the time imagining things…the motto being, “What would the Lost Boys do?”
Time in quiet places, like church or the library was spent drawing and dreaming and sucking on Lifesavers. There were no tiny computers or DVD players or IPODs to help pass the time…We were simply there, in the trenches of quiet time together, without the isolation electronic devices seem to impart on the families who rely on them so heavily.
The point is, I think children these days are missing out. With all of the activities their parents enroll them in, and our society’s growing tolerance for the near constant use of electronics, kids are left little time for playing and imagining things…
It makes me sad to see the kid in church, on his tiny computer game, earphones in place, oblivious to the magic and wonder of the stained glass windows, the preacher’s low voice, and the organ’s majestic tones.
It makes me sad to see the flower girl in a wedding so tied to her tiny DVD player and the movie it’s playing – a movie she’s seen 500 times – that she misses the fun of being with the big girls on the wedding day, watching the bride and getting really excited about dropping those petals along that aisle.
It makes me sad to see teenagers so tied to their IPODs, that they are virtually not present at family events, dinners and holidays…
What we create - when we schedule our children so heavily and allow/encourage them to be so constantly in need of entertainment - is a culture devoid of imagination and unable to amuse itself during the down times – and, life as a grown up certainly has more than its’ share of down, tedious, or simply un-amusing times.
Too many of the grown-up children of today are unable to focus on the task at hand - no matter how well-paying and important that task might be. At work, I see them texting, and instant messaging, and surfing the web and it annoys me. Can’t they just “hang up and drive?”
Something very magical, useful and real gets lost when we no longer encourage, or indeed, expect our children to be able to create their own adventures…Back in the day, the Lost Boys could imagine their thin soup was a magnificent feast…My children could become astronauts on the moon, while riding in the backseat of a car…Somehow, it seems now, the adventure, spontaneity, and joy of life gets scheduled or Video-gamed away…
A few weeks ago, I was taking photos of a family for their holiday card. The little girl, age four, wouldn’t smile – not for anything. Finally, in exasperation, her mother sent her upstairs to “look at (her) personal responsibility chart” and “remind (herself) that today’s responsibility was to smile nicely for the photos.” My heart just broke. No wonder that child can’t smile. She’s got the weight of the world on those tiny shoulders – at the age of four!
“‘Pan, what are you?’ Hook asked huskily. ‘I’m youth. I’m joy. I’m a little bird that has broken out of an egg,’” Pan replied…Isn’t that what we want for our kids?
Nowadays, Pan might’ve been so busy with his I-Tunes that he wouldn’t have even heard Hook, let alone replied…And, how sad is that!
Monday, January 5, 2009
Hope found in newlywed’s faces
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul…” - Emily Dickinson
If ever there is a time when hope springs anew, for me, it is the beginning of a new year. There is something so optimistic about all those blank calendar pages, stretching into the year ahead…and, something so cleansing about throwing all of those old calendar pages away.
I like to reflect on the past year, as I flip through the pages of last year’s calendar, transferring birthdays and anniversaries to the year ahead. I like to take a moment to be thankful for all the good things that happened, and to lick my wounds a bit over all the bad things that also occurred. 2008 was a particularly rough year in the Clark house, and I am glad to see it go. I’m so glad 2008 is over, that I’m not even having any trouble remembering to write 2009 on checks and letters and such. Goodbye, good riddance - 2008! Welcome, 2009 – with whatever is in store!
I am not an optimistic person – quite the opposite, in fact. Every glass I see is half-empty, every silver cloud has a dark lining, disaster in one form or another lurks around every corner…So, you see why this ritual of sitting down with a fresh calendar and actually looking forward to the year ahead is particularly special to me. It is a fleeting and precious time of optimism in my otherwise pessimistic year.
By late January, my annual winter depression sets in and there is no more hope springing eternal in this bleak, weary heart until the spring sun begins to shine again…At least, that is the way it has been. But this year, I am thinking about taking a different approach. This year I am considering making “Hope!” my motto for the entire year – not just the month of January.
I got an incredibly upbeat Christmas letter from an old friend, who proclaimed, “We choose Hope!” several times in each paragraph. This woman is, and always has been, a particularly rabid optimist, so the tone of her letter was no surprise. But, something about the phrase she used so often, and so optimistically, struck me.
Can “Hope!” be a choice we make? Can someone like me choose “Hope!” rather than fear or dread, as my anchoring emotion? Even in the face of challenges like Mr. Clark’s continued unemployment and our impending financial doom?
For a life-long pessimist, this is pretty radical thinking – which is why I’m still “considering” and “thinking about” making “Hope!” my motto this year…
But, as so often is the case, the good Lord has provided clear lessons and obvious nudges as to how He wishes me to proceed…With regard to hope, the lessons are found in my work as a wedding photographer. There is nothing more hopeful or optimistic than the faces of a bride and groom, as they stand together - in the company of God, their families and friends - and join their lives and hearts. Even a crusty old pessimist like me is touched every time I witness this amazing sight - and, in the wedding photography business, that is, thankfully, quite often.
I can be in a horrible mood, with a wedding party that is running me ragged by being tardy or tipsy or simply hard to corral…the bride may have melted down…her mother may have yelled at me…the groom’s mother may be a wreck…or, maybe one of the grampas has disappeared…a disaster might have occurred with the cake, or the veil, or the dress…the list of things that can go wrong at a wedding is endless…The thing that always goes right at a wedding, however, is the look that comes on both of those lit-up-with-love faces, as the couple joins hands, looks deeply into each others’ eyes and promises their future to each other.
And, even though as many as 40% of those couples may eventually part ways, on that day, at that moment, in those hearts, there is nothing but hope…Hope springing eternal in their eyes, and in mine, as I brush away a tear while trying to capture that moment for posterity with my camera’s eye.
So, yes, this year - just like all of those newlyweds - I choose “Hope!” With no guarantee of outcome, I will make “Hope!” my conscious choice each day. Feels like a pretty big undertaking, especially in the face of all my usual fear and dread…Good thing I’ve already got weddings booked through the new year, to keep me tearful, hopeful, and on track!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
