Prints on the Patio Door

When my boys were toddlers and preschoolers, we lived in a ranch style home in Cozad, Nebraska. The patio door looked out onto the small backyard where the sandbox and the swing set resided. On increment weather days, Daniel and Caleb would stand at the patio door, hands and noses pressed to the glass, longing to go out and run their trucks through the sand or climb onto the swing set. I do not claim to be a meticulous housekeeper, but I did use a fair amount of Windex and rags on that patio door! So many prints!

This week, I was reminded of that as I heard the song, “Fingerprints and Noses” by Newsong for the first time. A friend on FB posted a video where he did an awesome job of singing it and commenting on the lyrics. I invite you all to listen to the song now from Newsong.

As I listened, it made me ask if I have the same hopeful anticipation of these children. Do I believe without a doubt that if He says He’s coming, He is?

Father God…give me this childlike faith. Bless these little ones that display it so well and help me to learn the lessons they so willingly teach me. Amen

Until next time…keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Stable Footing

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Have you ever received encouragement from a nightmare? It doesn’t seem that those two words – encouragement and nightmare deserve to be in the same sentence. But maybe we are too quick to judge those encounters. When we awake from those awful nightmares, we often pass them off as horror films and want to forget them as quickly as we can without attempting to wonder what the experience could mean or teach us.

This last week I had one of those nightmares. Wow! It was a tough one to get through, but in the end it provided peace and encouragement.

My worst fear is falling from a cliff or some sort of frightful edge. Whenever I’ve closely approached an unguarded edge my heart rate spikes and my respirations multiply to twice the normal rate. My hands get clammy and my stomach churns. It’s enough to give me the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

You can probably guess where this is leading in context of a nightmare, but let me give you some background into my perilous subconscious incident. A group of 5 or 6 women, including myself, began piling into a Suburban. Some aspects of the dream are hazy as they often are. I wasn’t particularly good friends with any of these women but we had a destination in common so someone suggested car pooling. For whatever reason, (another hazy detail) the vehicle’s owner wasn’t wanting to drive and one of the other women volunteered. The driver made a wrong turn and we found ourselves in a one lane small private parking area behind a home. Unfortunately, the home rested very high on a tall, steep cliff with the severe drop off at the edge of the paved parking area. The Suburban was a larger vehicle than the driver was accustomed to. She began to inch the vehicle backward, but it was soon obvious she was nervous about backing her way to the street. As soon as the pavement widened just a bit, she began to attempt to cramp the wheel to turn the vehicle around. I was nervous…but not to the point of panicking…yet. However, as the minutes went by, my body began to react. I felt my jaw clench and I grabbed onto another passenger’s hand with my sweat drenched one. And then, as I could feel us inching closer to the cliff, full panic set in. I clenched my teeth, held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Intuition told me disaster was eminent. The other women gasped and screamed as my stomach parachuted upward and I felt the stability of ground disappear. We had just gone over the cliff.

The fall seemed to be geared in slow motion, taking much longer than it would have in real life. We cried out to God. I can’t remember my specific prayer but I can still feel the intensity of it, even now. I began to sing the first song that came to me – “Jesus Loves Me”- and the other women joined in. I was less scared of dying than I was of mass injuries and pain. The singing helped keep my mind off the terrible thoughts of crashing. In a dream – where all things are possible – the Surburban zigzagged as if floating through the air. This continued until the last few seconds before impact. It then took a direct vertical descent to the ground. We held our breath as we prepared for the massive, jolting crash. I wondered if this would be my last conscious breath before impact. But then impact came with a totally unrealistic surprise – a soft and easy landing; less noticeable than a plane coming in on a smooth runway. The spectators on the ground were as awestruck as we were.

I couldn’t imagine why or for what purpose I had had this completely unrealistic nightmare. Wide awake now, I lied in the darkness and pondered the aspects of the dream. It had involved my worst fear. We thought we were all doomed to die a horrid death or at the least, terrible injuries. Yet, we were calmed by bringing God into the situation and knowing that Jesus loves us. Lastly, He had brought us safely through.

As I thought about it, that is what I would learn from this very unpleasant experience. This nightmare had placed me in the worst situation with my most dreaded fear, yet when the women cried out to God – He was there extending His hand to help us. I know Bible verses, like Psalm 136:12 and Isaiah 41:10. He acted like a strong hand and powerful arm and I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. But, sometimes it takes a visual to grasp the full meaning. This is a visual that I’m not to forget soon and I’m grateful for that.

I came to understand that night how “nightmare” and “encouragement” aren’t necessarily an oxymoron and how there’s a life lesson in most everything.

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Attack Cat

My friend Janna was blindsided this week by a cat. Yes, a cat. But, it’s no “warm furry” kind of tale. She had noticed a tomcat hanging around their place for a while. She tried to shoo it away several times, but he did as cats do – what he darn well pleased. He hadn’t been a problem except he was eating their cats’ food. Thursday morning when she went out to the garage, their he was sitting close to one of the open garage doors. She spoke to him as she passed, calling him by the name they had tagged him with. “Hey Boot.” She was approximately 20 feet into the garage when she was attacked. She had no idea the cat had stalked her until he grabbed onto her leg, wrapping his legs around her leg and viciously extracting a hunk of meat from her calf. Janna screamed. Somehow she shook him loose from her leg but he then lunged onto her arm with claws extended. Janna grabbed the cat by the tail and flung him. Boots ran out of the garage. Janna realized the wound on her leg was bleeding profusely. Kathy wrapped the wound firmly with gauze and then rushed Janna to the Emergency Room. She was given two antibiotics to combat infections. The wound was cleansed and redressed. The next day, Janna looked like she had been through a bar fight – large bruises, multiple scratches, not to mention the open wound on her leg. (It was left open to drain, decreasing chances of infection.) Needless to say, it was a very traumatic experience for my friend.

Maybe you’ve been blindsided by something shocking in your life too. I know I have. It may not have been a beast but it could well have seemed like it.These incidents that you never expect to happen can leave you traumatized and almost paralyzed with fear. Maybe it was a pink slip you never anticipated. Or a spouse that walked out. Or a doctor that gave you or your child a diagnosis that you know just can’t be true, but is. Maybe it was a call from a jail or from the police or the Emergency Room. Any of theses things can wreck havoc with our emotions and leave us numb and not knowing what to do next.

Did Joseph feel this way when his brother’s blindsided him and threw him in the pit? Did Jonah feel this way when the “big fish” swallowed him whole? Did the Apostle Paul feel this way when he was literally blinded on the road to Damascus?

I believe they did as they were just as human as we are. Did they learn that God is always in control, even through their greatest adversities? And did they learn that God was accomplishing his purposes through their struggles? He not only showed them this, but us as well. We now know that Joseph went on to create a long-term agricultural policy that saved Egypt and his family from the seven year famine. Jonah went on to preach to the Ninevites who received his message and repented. And the Apostle Paul expanded the church far and wide and wrote much of the New Testament.

God is still in control of our lives as He fulfills His purposes, just as He was in the lives of Joseph, Jonah, and Paul. None of us would choose to be blindsided, but be encouraged that God may be using you for a specific assignment when it happens. Hold on – and ride it out – He’s got your back.

Until next time, keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Janna’s leg after attack
Janna’s arm after attack

The Shift From Hell

What does a reunion of retired nurses talk about? Of course…the shifts from hell. Most nurses can come up with many through their careers, but there’s always the one that stands out above all others. This is certainly the case for me.

I was working the night shift at a 20-bed hospital in Cozad, Nebraska. Back in the late 70’s they staffed the night shift with one RN and two aides. Occasionally, an LPN would be scheduled instead of an aide. This was the case this notable night…which in many ways was a blessing because the LPN could pass medications and chart where the aides could not. At the beginning of the shift, I anticipated an easier night than usual because of this. But then….various formidable patients began arriving through the unlocked ER entrance. (Had it had a lock, I would have been tempted to use it before the night was over.)

The first one to arrive was an expectant mother, second time around. No big deal, except OB was my least favorite department. (I tended to get diarrhea when I would drive into the parking lot for my shift and see the labor and delivery lights on.) My confidence in this area left something to be desired. But in a small hospital in the seventies, you had no choice. The RN was responsible for all the areas – Med Surg, ER, ICU, and OB. So whenever an OB came in, I’d try to smile, say a desperate silent prayer, and get on with it. This second time mom was sprinting along fairly fast in her contractions….but not delivering before the second OB walked in. Ugh. The nurses had all heard about this particular mom that would be coming in at some point. She had a bicornuate uterus, meaning it is divided partway or all the way by a septum of tissue down the middle. She would be considered high risk when she came in. Her doctor had informed us that she would likely go into labor early. She followed the text book and was checking in tonight at 7 months.

Normally, I would have had my aide or LPN to help get her to bed, allowing me to stay with the first mom. But they were both in the nursery, feeding 5 hungry, crying babies. This many, by the way, was a capacity unknown to our small hospital. I don’t specifically remember, but I have to wonder now if it wasn’t a full moon. Nurses believe in such things.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one under stress. Because I was tied up with the two active OB’s, Marcella, my LPN was now in charge of everything else which included the nursery, the already delivered moms, and the fifteen patients on the med/surg floor. That’s a lot to deal with, even before the emaciated, elderly woman fell out of bed. The stress triggered Marcella’s lungs to protest and immediately sent her into a severe asthma attack. After the aide helped Ms. Crandall back to bed, and determining she was only mildly shook up, she ran down the hall to inform me that Marcella was off duty for a while puffing on a rescue inhaler.

In the meantime, my first OB delivered a thriving baby boy. I was now in the throngs of post partum care – massaging a boggy uterus, taking vital signs, foot-printing the newborn, etc. It had been a while since I’d been able to check on Risky Gal so I scurried down the hall between uterine massages to do just that. This weary Mom was hoping for a report of significant progress following the check. “No change,” I hated to inform her, but secretly glad I would have some time to chart. I stayed with her a few minutes before rushing back down the hall. After witnessing the strength of contractions, I elected to call her physician and give him an update. He ordered an xray to rule out cephalopelvic disproportion, ( too small of a pelvic opening to accommodate the baby’s head.) Back in the seventies we weren’t doing routine sonograms on OB’s in our area. Once the xrays were processed, Jerry, the tech, came to me and said, “Did you know she was having twins?” he said with a very straight face.

“You’re kidding,” I looked for any indication that he was, but couldn’t find it. He ushered me into the radiology department to see for myself. Oh no, I mused. This woman has a bicornuate uterus and a baby on each side of the septum and she’s only seven months along. I could only imagine how small these two babies might be. “Why me, Lord, ” I sputtered. “I don’t even like OB.” 7:00 a.m. wasn’t going to get here fast enough! And wouldn’t you know….now her cervix was beginning to do what it’s supposed to do.

The next call was to the doctor. I knew what he’d say. “Get the Kearney Neonatal Team notified that we are sending her their way.”

That was all fine and good, but that cervix wasn’t having it. She was now 8 cm’s and too late to transport without risking delivery in route. My only saving grace would be the morning shift arriving. I glanced out the window to a welcoming sight. I could make out the houses across the street. Maybe Risky Gal will hold out until reinforcements arrive.

I decided that morning, that Risky Gal deserved to be put in my will. She not only waited for the day shift to arrive but for the Kearney Neonatal Team as well. What’s that verse…oh yeah….weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning. Amen! I sighed with relief because high risk OB is really not my thing. The delivery room was in plentiful and very capable hands. I slipped out to do my night’s charting, and for once I wouldn’t complain about the paperwork.

Until next time, keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

Those twin boys would be right around 45 years old now. They had no long term effects from being born early and coming from a bicornuate uterus.

Marcella recovered from her asthma attack soon after using her inhaler and finished out the shift.

The author recovered after a couple of good nights’ rest.

Writing on the Wall

I was too young to remember this story as it happened, but Dad told it to me more than once; always with a twinkle in his blue eyes and a grin on his face.

Learning to hold my pencil correctly, I had worked quite diligently placing meticulous scribbles on a piece of Red Chief tablet paper. After laboriously scribbling my way to the bottom of the paper, I surveyed it carefully, gave a little nod and handed it to Dad.

“Read this,” I said, anxiously awaiting what I would hear.

He paused as if thinking for a bit and then handed it back. “I think you should read it since you wrote it.”

Placing my hands on my hips, I looked up at him and with little patience I said, “YOU KNOW I CAN’T READ.”

As I grew older and enjoyed writing, I of course, became more adept at actually putting down words that made sense. (Thank you to my many English teachers.) But there’s another story written about a message that was unclear to those that it was intended for. This one was much more dramatic than mine and it’s not hard to imagine that it could have been a scene from the “Frankinstein” movie. But alas, it comes straight from the book of Daniel in the Old Testament. Why Frankinsteinish, you ask? Because this message was written with a disembodied hand. And believe me, it got King Belshazzar’s attention as well as the 1000 nobles in attendance to his great feast at the palace in Babylon. Daniel 5:6 tells us King Belshazzar turned pale with fear and the fear gripped him so tightly that his knees knocked together and his legs gave way. These people had to have known that this was no natural occurrence. Whether they put it together that this was happening because they had brought out the sacred goblets the previous King had confiscated from the holy temple in Jerusalem to toast their idols, I’m not sure. What I do know is that this was a slap in God’s face and He was angry.

Even though the three words written on the wall by the disembodied hand – Mene, mene, tekel, parsin –were words these men knew, they had no idea how these words pertained to them. In English these words would mean: numbered, numbered, weighed, divided. Daniel was called to come, based on his reputation for the gift of interpretation. Daniel didn’t give the king what he wanted to hear, but he did give him the truth from God.

“God has numbered your days of your reign and has brought it to an end. You have been weighed on the balances and have failed the test. Your kingdom has been divided and given to the Medes and Persians.”

There was no dillydallying on God’s part. That very night King Belshazzar was killed and Darius the Mede took over the kingdom.

I can’t help but think about how the greatest empire of the time came to ruin in less than an overnight. I also think of how history repeats itself time and time again; yet we so often fail to learn from it. Just as King Belshazzar’s next day was not guaranteed, neither is ours. Today, I’m sitting in front of my computer writing this blog; but tomorrow I may be sitting in heaven at the foot of my Savior. That’s fine with me; it’s right where I want to be. How about you?

Until next time – keep on readin’ and I’ll keep on writin’.

FYI – Ever wonder where the phrase “the writing on the wall came from”? Now you know.