The heart of Christmas

He sat at the corner of the road as far back as I can remember. His legs, encased in filthy bandages, protruded from the bent metal cart. The once-blue scarf around his neck hid part of his matted grey beard. A torn jacket barely protected him from the cool Bangalore air. With his bandaged hands outstretched, he called, “Amma, paisa” as we passed by.

“Why is he on the road?” asked my daughter as she clutched my hand. “What’s he saying, Mama?”

“He’s a beggar,” I explained. “He doesn’t have any place to live, and he’s asking us for money.” She kept looking back at him as we walked away.

During the three weeks we were in India, I exchanged my daughter’s allowance to rupees. “Mommy, I’m going to give that man some money before we leave,” she determined. The only things she used her money for were gifts for her friends in the US.

“Do you want to change the rupees back to dollars?” I asked her on our last day in India.

Shaking her head, she took the money from me. She opened the door and ran down several flights of stairs to the entrance of the building. I followed her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to give this to the beggar.”

She skipped around the muddy rain puddles till she reached the corner where he sat, slowing as she approached him. Bending down, she placed the money on his lap. He bent his head and studied the stack of hundred rupee notes, oblivious to the rain drops falling from the plastic bag that was wrapped around his head.

Picking up the money, he looked at her, a huge grin lighting his face. He stretched his hands out toward her and then pulled them together in a namaste as he lowered his head. She grinned and ran back home. As I followed, I looked back and swallowed hard: He was distributing the money to the little urchins on the street.

It took my nine-year-old and the beggar to remind me that true giving is from the heart. And that it costs.  Isn’t that what  Christmas is about? The greatest Gift of all time is also the greatest Sacrifice of all time. The One Who spoke the world into being gave Himself for us so we might have abundant life.

Celebrate Him! He is worthy.

Photo credit: http://www.free-clipart-pictures.net/religious_clipart.html

Enjoying Christmas

It’s a special time of year. Glittering lights adorn houses. The melody of carols echoes wherever where you go. The aroma of once-a-year culinary treats wafts through houses. Gifts pile up under the Christmas trees. Visits from and to extended family. Wish lists. Pictures with Santa. Excitement and anticipation build as December 25th approaches. But so do tension and stress as calendars get packed, shopping lists grow and life becomes a frantic blur of trying to get everything done in time for Christmas.

How can we enjoy a stress-free holiday season?

1. Focus: What’s important during this season? Spending time with family? Making memories? Entertaining? Decorating? Once you determine that, you can…

2. Simplify: How much is enough? While some of my friends decorate every room in their house for Christmas, we decorate a few areas of the house. This year, with a feisty toddler around, our house is less decorated than usual. How much of preparation is enough? This year, I’ve baked less than ever before, not only in the number of batches of cookies, but in the variety. Simply because I wanted to enjoy the season and time with my kids rather than being stressed about a toddler getting into everything.

Know your abilities and limitations and work within them.

3. Manage expectations: Christmas can bring out my perfectionist tendencies. The decorations have to be just so, the meals extravagant, especially when we entertain. But does everything have to be perfect in order to enjoy the season? It’s about the joy of being with family and friends, and sharing His love.

4. Celebrate: A beautifully decorated house and gifts bring pleasure for a season. But memories with loved ones will last a lifetime. Nothing is a given in life–treasure each moment this season.

Celebrate, in utter abandonment, the greatest Gift of all time. Bask in the wonder of His grace.

Photo credit: http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=809

Francesco  Marino/Freedigitalphotos.net

Memories

“Some sad news” caught my eye as I scrolled through the e-mail in my inbox. I sat staring at the message for what seemed an eternity, tears spilling down my cheeks.

“No! Aunty Gladys died.” I heard a disembodied voice and sobs. I didn’t realize it was mine until I felt my tween’s arms around me.

Aunty Gladys. An intrinsic part of my life in India. What would a visit to India be like without her? A close family friend who was like a mother to me. Aunty Gladys, so full of life, laughter, always ready to have a good time was gone.

Thoughts swirled through my mind as I struggled to comprehend this news. After several attempts, I got through to her family in India. We laughed and cried as we reminisced together.

More in control of my emotions later in the day, I told my tween about some of the fun times in my childhood. Parties and sing-alongs that Aunty Gladys’s family and mine shared. The candlelight Christmas concerts conducted by Aunty Gladys. The family traditions of visiting each other on Christmas Day. Aunty Gladys always had time for a cup of coffee, a joke and for me. She walked with our family through the good times and bad. A loyal friend.

It’s been a year since I received that e-mail. But she gave me a wonderful gift—memories that I treasure. They challenge me as well: What memories will I give my family? 

A special Thanksgiving

“I can hardly wait for them to get here, Mommy,” my tween said for the millionth time. Her eyes sparkled as we set the table.

When the door bell finally rang, my toddler shot down the hallway. We opened the door to our much-awaited company–my husband’s family. And so began our Thanksgiving weekend. A weekend that ended all too soon; a weekend full of wonderful memories…

My toddler climbed over her uncle as he sat on the sofa watching a football game in the family room. Finally both ended up on the floor, building towers with wooden blocks. The cousins chatting, giggling, texting and staying up for movie marathons each night. Sight-seeing, reminiscing about family, long walks, fun, reconnecting with each other, time together…

This Thanksgiving was extra-special. In the past, we’ve shared holidays with others who were alone. But after many years, we celebrated Thanksgiving with family, and for the first time, we were the hosts.

What made your Thanksgiving special this year?

Blessings

My toddler’s cries woke me. I glanced at the clock on my dresser and groaned. 5:30 am.  As I pulled myself out of bed, her cries quieted.

Knowing I’d have a hard time going back to sleep, I propped myself up against the pillows, grabbed my Bible from the nightstand and began to read Proverbs 10. Verse 22 jumped out at me: “The blessing of the Lord makes a person rich, and he adds no sorrow with it.”

What are your blessings? popped into my mind. I thought of the past year: continuing health problems after a high-risk pregnancy. Being laid off. The sometimes tough school days. Caring for an aging parent and its challenges. Rejection letters as I tried to break into the freelance market.

What are your blessings? insistently wrapped itself around my mind refusing to leave…

Slowly images began to tumble out: A healthy baby against all odds. Being home with my children. The freedom to pursue my writing dreams. The blessing of homeschooling and discipling my kids. My husband’s job. Time with my kids. Caring friends. A supportive family. Freedom…

My cheeks began to burn. I bowed my head and whispered, “Thank you for reminding me of your blessings. They enrich my life, and there’s no sorrow with them.”

What are some of your blessings?

Acceptance

“Ma’am, when you get off the elevator, call me.” The voice of the receptionist at the doctor’s office crackled through the phone. “There’s a bench outside the office. Wait there. Since you have a fever, we’ll take you straight to a room.”

I complied.  

After a few minutes, the receptionist’s head popped around the door. “Miss Anita? Please come this way.” Walking a good distance ahead of me, she led me to a room. “The nurse will be with you shortly.”

After flipping through the magazine for what seemed the umpteenth time, the door opened, framing the nurse.

“You have a fever?” I nodded.

“For how long?” She stepped into the room, stood at the counter with her back to me, and continued questioning me about my symptoms. Then she turned toward me. Stretching out a gloved hand with a swab, she gave me instructions for the flu test. Gingerly she balanced the blood pressure machine on the examining table. With the examining table between us, she took my vitals, all the while keeping a safe distance.

I shivered despite my jacket. This is how lepers must feel. I understood the caution associated with flu-symptoms, but I still felt ostracized and unwelcome.

I fully expected my doctor to come in masked and gloved. But she burst into the room as if nothing was wrong.

“I’m so sorry you’re not feeling that great.” She grinned, and came up to where I was sitting. “Let’s see what’s going on.” No gloves, no masks.

I relaxed a bit. Maybe I was human after all.

Acceptance. Something we all crave. But something that’s hard to communicate effectively. The feeling of not being accepted hurts. Many times it’s the non-verbal that communicates unacceptance more than the verbal.  

My recent doctor’s office episode made me reconsider my communication patterns. I’ve been reminded of the One who accepts me no matter what. The One who extends unconditional grace. The One in Whose steps I want to follow.

Have you ever felt that you weren’t accepted? How do you communicate acceptance?

Photos from http://www.cepolina.com/

From a mother’s heart: hope and faith

What do you do when your child’s life hangs in the balance? Barb King graciously shares her story of faith, hope and courage as she and her husband Dean care for their daughter Olivia through a serious medical condition.

Olivia has been hospitalized for almost two weeks, and your prayers are deeply appreciated.

From the heart of a mother…

Olivia’s medical condition

Olivia was born with a rare form of Cystic Fibroses. She was diagnosed at the age of three when all of her organs went into complete failure. A month later, a life flight to Atlanta, and lots of doctors and tests….Olivia’s liver had completely failed. She had Cystic Fibroses and needed a liver transplant as soon as we could get one.

One day, I had a happy healthy child, I thought, the next she was hanging on for her life. Over the next ten years we have struggled with a liver transplant that has not gone well, awaiting another transplant and her Cystic Fibroses issues continue to increase because of the multiple surgeries she has undergone trying to keep this liver going.

Its impact on daily life

The impact of such a traumatic event in your life is unimaginable. One day your life seems the same every day. The next minute, you are dealing with a crisis that will forever change your life, your heart and your marriage. The pain for a father not being able to fix the problem is insurmountable. A mother who cannot, won’t leave her child’s side because of what this tiny baby was going through leads to sleep exhaustion, mental depletion trying to keep up with what the doctors were saying, and emotional bankruptcy because you are afraid to let anyone in because of the breakdown you might have and you have to be strong.

All those things mixed together create a really shaky situation for a marriage. But, after a while, if you have a good marriage to start with, you find your way back to each other. You rebuild on that foundation you have and you start standing together, not apart. The divorce rate for chronically ill children is one in two. I am so thankful we are not the one in two…but the one standing with God, believing that He is the Healer, the Comforter, the Deliverer and our Friend. That has been the reason we found our way back. God has and will always be the center of our relationship and the first one we call on.

Other struggles

Over the past 10 years we have struggled through a bankruptcy, shutting down a business, moving here, living with my mom at first, to be closer to the hospital here, starting over again. Olivia’s constant sickness and needs. Never really knowing what the next day will bring. We lost my mom to cancer one year and then my husband’s mom, sister and stepfather the next to a single car accident. The last ten years have been an enormous struggle for us. But we stand together when something comes our way because we love each other on such a deeper level than I think we would have ever achieved if this had not happened in our lives.

Today, our lives have changed so much. We live in the moment not the future. We make the very best of every day.

We decided to treat this as normally as possible–that sickness was not going to be the driving force of our life. It was just a part of who we were and who Olivia is. I think this has helped Olivia want to be just a normal kid and strive harder to be happy, as healthy as she can be, and have a good relationship with the Lord. Though she does have some struggles about being sick, she can see Him in her daily life and I think that gives her a stronger and healthier attitude.

Lessons

1. Life is fragile. Each moment does count and each person you meet–God put them in your path for a reason. We try not to hold on to the hurts and the struggles because we need and want to see the things God is doing in our lives. There are incredible moments with God that we are allowed to experience because we are walking through this incredibly hard journey, holding on to a glorious Father’s hand to help us through it all.

2. Legacy is so important. How we treat people. How we invest in their lives. Helping someone when we can. Those things are such important moments. When Olivia was first diagnosed and we came home to Nashville to await her transplant, I was amazed at the letters that started pouring in. People I had known, forgotten about, or even who thought had no idea who I was….sent letters, money, cards, presents to Olivia…and over and over it would say, Barb you helped me do this or that….and this is just my small way to say thank you and we are praying. It reminded me so much of what would happen if I had died. These people were impacted by something that God wanted to do in their lives, I just happened to listen to God and do it. That was when I realized so much more than I did before that people are the reason we are here. God wants us to engage, invest when we can, and love his children here.

Strength

My joy and peace comes from knowing the Lord. I am not sure how anyone can deal with the pain and suffering of your own child without knowing God.

Advice

I think when you walk through a valley; it is so hard to see that you will make it to the top of the mountain. God sees things so much bigger than we ever can. So my suggestion is to take it moment by moment. If you have lost a child or spouse or someone close to you, if you are in financial ruin, if you feel hopeless and alone, whatever the valley may be and you can’t seem to find peace… first fall on your face before God. Reach up and let Him know you are listening, and then find a spouse, a friend, a counselor, a pastor, someone that you feel you can open up to and just talk. Because I have found that the biggest battle is not fought in the circumstance but in the mind. I never want to make light of someone’s valley because what is huge to them, may be small to me or what is huge to me may be easy for them…but I do know how to walk up that mountain and keep going no matter what to reach the top. To not give up on yourself, God or your family and friends. They are the support you need and God purposely has them in your life to give you strength, encouragement and hope.

For what are you living?

For what are you living? A tough but pertinent question given the times in which we live; a question that’s been echoing in my mind for a while.

Jesus’ words challenge me: “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”My heart isn’t as heavenly-minded as I thought it was. And, it isn’t as heavenly-minded as I’d like it to be. When my perceived “treasures” are in jeopardy, I see clearly what my heart attitudes to them are.

In all this, I’ve been reminded of my father who passed away unexpectedly several years ago. I couldn’t return to India in time for the funeral since it usually takes place within 24 hours. Two weeks later, after getting visas for my family, we arrived in Bangalore.

In the days that followed, we helped my mother put various affairs in order. One day, my husband and I cleaned out Daddy’s closet–all he owned fitted into a small suitcase. “That’s just a testimony of how Daddy lived his life,” commented my husband. “He took time for what was important—his relationship with God and people.”

So, how much do I really need to live on? What’s important in life? I’ve seen abject poverty, and some of the most generous folks I’ve met have been those with much less than me. I don’t need as much as I thought I did.

I’m learning that what’s important is not the tangible and the material, but the eternal. God can take care of my family no matter what the economy is going through…”If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.”

So, what’s important to you?

Diwali lessons

“Stand back.” My father held out his hand to stop me as I ran toward him.

 “But, I want to see.” I peeked around him. An empty glass milk bottle balanced on the wall that enclosed my uncle’s house. Poised in the bottle was my favorite kind of fireworks—a rocket–ready to be lighted. In the neighborhood, firecrackers exploded and the sharp, acrid smell of gunpowder filled my senses. The flickering lights from the tiny clay lamps lining the walls of our neighbors’ yards cast a welcoming glow.

When the first golden, pink hues of the setting sun streaked the sky, I sat at the grilled, meshed window overlooking the front yard, waiting for the sky to darken. And now, I could hardly wait for my father to light the rocket. As an eight-year-old in India, I enjoyed Diwali—the festival of lights. Even though we didn’t celebrate it the way our Hindu neighbors did, I looked forward to the fun, the sweets, the holidays and the best part of all–the fireworks.

 “Daddy, hurry up.” I had already played with sparklers, flower pots that sent up fountains of lights and sparks, and the wheel, which spun circles of light and fire. I wanted the excitement of the rockets to begin.

 My father held a lit candle to the rocket’s tail. A few sputters, and then a burst of light as it whizzed up into the sky. It exploded in a ball of fire. 

“Another one, Daddy.”

 “Georgie, what are you doing?” My mom’s voice rose a decibel as my father held the rocket in one hand and, with his other hand, grabbed the candle to light the rocket.

 “I can handle this.” And he lit the rocket. A few sparks, and the unthinkable happened. The rocket backfired. An explosion of light and my father’s hand was on fire.

That night is imprinted in my memory. It reminds me that what seems alluring and fun might leave me hurting. It helps me focus on what’s really important in life–it’s a reminder that what I want might not turn out to be all I thought it was.

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.[1]

 

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[1] Matthew 6:33; The Message

Photos used from http://www.cepolina.com/freephoto/

Caring for an aging parent

In nearly a quarter of households in the US, someone has the responsibility of caring for an aging parent. Yet few of us are trained caregivers, and our attempts often feel inadequate. With firsthand knowledge, Candy Arrington, coauthor of When Your Aging Parent Needs Care: Practical Help for This Season of Life, provides encouragement, practical advice, and resources to aid adult children with the challenging demands of caring for aging parents while balancing other aspects of life.

Candy was kind enough to answer some of my questions to help those of us going through the transition to caregiver.

1. The transition to caregiver was hard for me. It was hard to accept that my mom was aging and becoming dependent on me. What advice do you have to help prepare for that transition?

Role reversal is one of the most difficult aspects of caring for an aging parent. In some ways, you have to think of your parent with the same level of love and patience you felt toward your children when they were small and provide a similar amount of encouragement and reassurance. Early in my caregiving experience with my Mom, I realized I was angry with her for depending on me so much. I had a lot of other responsibilities and having her lean on me so heavily felt like a burden. She has a high anxiety level and it was especially hard when I felt she was dumping her anxiety on me. One thing that helped me was realizing she’d lost her sense of security when my father died. I had to make a conscious effort to be patient with her shifting her reliance on him to me. It’s not easy, but once I accepted her feeling of insecurity and stopped being annoyed by it, I was able to be more patient with her and remind her that God is our ultimate source of security. I started praying for her and with her and that made a huge difference.

2. How do we keep a balance in our lives between caregiving and everything else we are responsible for?

I’ve had to become very organized and not procrastinate. I write checks for bills (for two households) weeks ahead and have them ready to mail at the appropriate time. This came in handy recently when my mother went to the hospital suddenly and was there for ten days. I’d stay at the hospital all day, come home exhausted, and only have to be concerned with which envelopes to stick in the mailbox the next morning rather than having to face a long bill paying session. I also try to work ahead on writing deadlines so if something steals my time at the last minute I’m not anxious and frustrated about meeting deadlines. My children (19 and 22) are basically self-sufficient, but I’ve given them even more responsibility for their own lives in the past year and a half. I realized I was doing a lot for them that they could do for themselves. Additionally, I’ve learned to say no to positions or obligations that I can foresee will be time-eaters and sources of potential anxiety. Caregiving occupies this season of my life and there will be time for volunteer positions and committees another time.

3. What advice/suggestions could you give those of us whose parents make their home with us?
My mother lived with us for several months so I’ve had a taste of what it’s like. I admire those who can make it work, but any time you import another person into the family unit everything changes. You have to establish boundaries, and with an aging parent that is often hard to do. Depending on your parent’s level of care, you may want to set up certain hours each day when you are unavailable, like from 7:00-9:00 at night so you can talk to your husband about his day at work or help children with homework. You might also consider hiring a companion to stay with your parent once a week so you can go out and do something with your spouse or friends. If you can’t afford to hire someone, accept when friends offer to help. Sometimes we automatically say no, but they wouldn’t offer if they didn’t want to help. Most of our parents are capable of doing a lot on their own so include them in the list of family chores. This will make your parents realize they are part of the family unit rather than guests. And just as you would teenagers, you may have to limit television time and encouragement them to get some form of exercise and/or spend some time outdoors. Many communities and churches have adult activity days. If your parent is able to attend, this allows them interaction with those outside your family and helps prevent them from becoming so totally self-focused.

4. Is there any advice in particular that you have for only children who care for their aging parents?
Oh, wow, I could probably use advice myself! My husband and I are both only children and it can be really hard. Even if you aren’t an only child, one child usually ends up carrying the majority of the caregiving load. Again, boundaries are so important because we’ve discovered our mothers will let us do as much as we’re willing to take on. We’ve learned to risk their displeasure rather than load ourselves down with more than we can handle. Only childness is hard anyway because there is that element of needing to please and be perfect, both impossible to accomplish. I frequently remind myself that God is the only One I have to please and if I’m honoring my parent to the best of my ability I’m in line with His expectations.

5. How do we help them keep a semblance of independence?
Allow them to do as much as they can safely do. Driving often becomes an issue, not only from the standpoint of safety, but because when parents stop driving our lives and schedules change dramatically too. Let your parents continue to pay bills as long as they are keeping things current and include them in decisions that affect their lives. I think it’s really depressing for them if we swoop in and take over everything because it implies they aren’t capable and most are.

If you would like to share your experiences with caring for an aging parent, I’d love to hear from you.