Death is a negative word in our society. We ignore it, deny it, fear it, refuse to talk about it, until we are faced with it. If we live, then we will surely die. In our culture we think of death as a door closing, as a time of agonizing grief, as a moment when all questions of "Why" bombard us. Death becomes an enemy that destroys our comforts, our joys and our future plans. We read the obituaries and silently feel relief that our name is not on the list. We count our days and years as proud evidence we are still alive. We shudder and weep as family and friends suddenly die and we remain to experience lonely lives without them. We wear mourning clothes to funerals, dressing in black and sometimes wearing a veil to hide our tears. We use the softened words 'she passed away' rather than state 'she died', refusing to use the finality of the word 'dead'. We all fear death.
BUT, as believers, why do we have these thoughts? If we believe that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, Son of God, Savior who came for us, born of a teenage virgin, performed miracles of healing, died a tragic humiliating death on a cross, then came alive after 3 days in a tomb and finally was 'taken up into heaven', then we should be rejoicing when our physical bodies die because we will be resurrected and live in our eternal state forever with our Father God and Jesus. Why are we not rejoicing at funerals? Why are we not singing the Hallelujah Chorus?
Now some might say, Why should I believe all that? Did Jesus really die on the cross? What proof is there that Jesus rose from the dead? Maybe He never died in the first place. The validity of Christ's death and resurrection has been debated for two thousand years and maintains steady proof that it happened. First of all, when you read the details of flogging and crucifixion in the Roman Empire at the time of Jesus you begin to understand the physical toll on the body. Flogging was accomplished by using a flagrum, a whip that ripped skin off the body in ribbons, tore muscles and caused extreme bleeding because arteries and veins were exposed. How did Jesus even survive that? Then the physical torture of crucifixion with arms nailed to a crossbeam by hammering directly through the median nerve which caused excruciating pain and left the hands totally incapacitated. Adding to that, a seven inch nail would be hammered through both feet. In order to breathe out, the victim would have to push against the nail in his feet and to breathe in, he sagged back down. Asphyxiation was the result. Humiliation was part of the horror as they stripped the body before nailing to the cross. The soldiers, in Jesus case, also pierced His heart. Any questions? No doubt. Jesus was dead.
Then the question. How did Jesus come alive again? And this is where all our faith and belief come in. If there was no resurrection there is no Christian faith. Jesus is crucified, confirmed dead and is buried in a tomb with a massive heavy stone rolled to the entrance guarded by Roman soldiers. Three days later, an angel appears, terrifying the guards and effortlessly rolls back the stone. The guards report to the Jewish priests the body is missing. So the priests bribe the guards with money to spread the lie that disciples have stolen Jesus' body which in reality proves Jesus resurrection. Jesus appears before women and men, talks to them and eats with them and finally seen by hundreds as he is visibly taken up to heaven. Is there any doubt Jesus is alive in a resurrected body and that all who believe in Him will one day be with Him in heaven? Remember Jesus told Martha, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes on me will live, even though he dies, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die."
This year on the 21st of April we believers gather in places of worship all over the world and rejoice. He is risen! And those of us who believe and have brought all our sins to the foot of the cross and surrendered our hearts to Jesus will never die. Truly, our death will be swallowed up in victory!
Monday, April 15, 2019
Tuesday, March 19, 2019
Build your own library!
i love to read, don't you? My favorites are historical novels because you read personal stories in the context of actual historical events. That's exactly what today's seniors have to offer. Many of us were born at the time of the Great Depression and have had front row seats in living out the incredible advances of the 20th Century.
Yes, every individual today has an amazing story to tell; some happy, others filled with tragedy and sorrow. They are real stories however and they are like libraries waiting to be read. When you consider the accounts of a 90 year old today it means he or she was born in 1929. What was happening at that time? What were women's fashions? How did people spend their leisure time? How did they communicate? How did they travel? All these circumstances make wonderful stories because what happened 90 years ago is totally different from today. Did people then experience love, hate, disappointment, success, fame and simple enjoyments? Let us all learn what life was like 80, 90 years ago by listening and reading today's personal stories.
For example, my friend Gert, who is 95, has an incredible story that was recently published on the front page of the Chicago Tribune. Imagine her surprise when that appeared! Gert's daughter discovered an old box filled with letters written by Gert's fiancee in 1944 while he was serving in the Pacific during World War II. Gert remembers when she heard the tragic news that her beloved fiancee was killed in the Battle of Zig Zag Pass in the Philippines. Of course, no email then, so she heard the news weeks after he died. What a heart wrenching story followed, detailing how she coped, how she went on with her life, falling in love again, marrying and keeping the 'first fiancee' secret from her 4 subsequent children. We can all learn from this story of dealing with tragedy but then finding new love and family by trusting in her Christian faith.
Then there is the story of Betty, who worked at a local restaurant as a baker with her special pie making gifts. Now, in her senior years, with diminished eyesight, Betty has taught the kitchen chef of her independent living facility her pie secrets so that Betty's pies are on the monthly menu. What a gift of knowledge she has shared.
My friend, Joyce, leads and encourages a group of seniors to write their own stories. A few of these seniors write longhand because they don't use a computer. Their stories are being written for their own families to learn what hardships they endured and what thrilling experiences they enjoyed as farmers, as immigrants and as wartime survivors in the past 20th Century. Without Joyce's help those stories would not be written.
Even the information that was communicated, the terminology that existed has dramatically changed over the years. Recently a group of fifth graders was shown a rotary phone. Yes, the kind of phone that was around before cell phones. The 5th graders were told to use the phone. Amazing! These kids had no idea that you use your finger to move the dial to the chosen letter and number and call, for example, Ha 7-2447 ('Ha' was abbreviation for Hackensack, my own phone in New Jersey). And "Number, please?" Fifth graders have no idea what that meant. Of course, we seniors know that meant the local phone operator was busy connecting people with their calls. Remember 'party lines'? Did we respect our neighbors or as bad little boys and girls giggle and listen in on conversations?
Remember life with no TV? Back in the 1940s my brother and I would plant ourselves in front of the radio between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening and listen avidly to the 15 minute mystery story segments. And, of course, the popular "Lone Ranger" 1/2 hour series drew millions of listeners. No picture, no reality TV, but we quietly used our imagination to envision those adventures in our mind with the radio sound effects and voices. How our minds were stimulated using our own imaginations.
Yes, as all of us go through life we are compiling libraries filled with knowledge, wisdom and experiences which should be shared with our friends and families. Those shared libraries will enrich everyone's life. So, write your stories, build your library and announce to the world that your life was worth living.
Yes, every individual today has an amazing story to tell; some happy, others filled with tragedy and sorrow. They are real stories however and they are like libraries waiting to be read. When you consider the accounts of a 90 year old today it means he or she was born in 1929. What was happening at that time? What were women's fashions? How did people spend their leisure time? How did they communicate? How did they travel? All these circumstances make wonderful stories because what happened 90 years ago is totally different from today. Did people then experience love, hate, disappointment, success, fame and simple enjoyments? Let us all learn what life was like 80, 90 years ago by listening and reading today's personal stories.
For example, my friend Gert, who is 95, has an incredible story that was recently published on the front page of the Chicago Tribune. Imagine her surprise when that appeared! Gert's daughter discovered an old box filled with letters written by Gert's fiancee in 1944 while he was serving in the Pacific during World War II. Gert remembers when she heard the tragic news that her beloved fiancee was killed in the Battle of Zig Zag Pass in the Philippines. Of course, no email then, so she heard the news weeks after he died. What a heart wrenching story followed, detailing how she coped, how she went on with her life, falling in love again, marrying and keeping the 'first fiancee' secret from her 4 subsequent children. We can all learn from this story of dealing with tragedy but then finding new love and family by trusting in her Christian faith.
Then there is the story of Betty, who worked at a local restaurant as a baker with her special pie making gifts. Now, in her senior years, with diminished eyesight, Betty has taught the kitchen chef of her independent living facility her pie secrets so that Betty's pies are on the monthly menu. What a gift of knowledge she has shared.
My friend, Joyce, leads and encourages a group of seniors to write their own stories. A few of these seniors write longhand because they don't use a computer. Their stories are being written for their own families to learn what hardships they endured and what thrilling experiences they enjoyed as farmers, as immigrants and as wartime survivors in the past 20th Century. Without Joyce's help those stories would not be written.
Even the information that was communicated, the terminology that existed has dramatically changed over the years. Recently a group of fifth graders was shown a rotary phone. Yes, the kind of phone that was around before cell phones. The 5th graders were told to use the phone. Amazing! These kids had no idea that you use your finger to move the dial to the chosen letter and number and call, for example, Ha 7-2447 ('Ha' was abbreviation for Hackensack, my own phone in New Jersey). And "Number, please?" Fifth graders have no idea what that meant. Of course, we seniors know that meant the local phone operator was busy connecting people with their calls. Remember 'party lines'? Did we respect our neighbors or as bad little boys and girls giggle and listen in on conversations?
Remember life with no TV? Back in the 1940s my brother and I would plant ourselves in front of the radio between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening and listen avidly to the 15 minute mystery story segments. And, of course, the popular "Lone Ranger" 1/2 hour series drew millions of listeners. No picture, no reality TV, but we quietly used our imagination to envision those adventures in our mind with the radio sound effects and voices. How our minds were stimulated using our own imaginations.
Yes, as all of us go through life we are compiling libraries filled with knowledge, wisdom and experiences which should be shared with our friends and families. Those shared libraries will enrich everyone's life. So, write your stories, build your library and announce to the world that your life was worth living.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
What do I see?
Vision is vital in our lives. We need to see where we are going, what we are doing. We need to read. We need to see people, our loved ones. our friends, our pets, our neighbors, our leaders. We need to see colors and the beauty of our world. Yes, eyesight is invaluable and yet, in our older population many of us have difficulty with our eyesight. Many have macular degeneration which is very serious, ultimately, in some cases, leading to blindness. Fortunately, there have been tremendous strides in optical care so that treatment is available to at least slow down rapidly approaching blindness.
Fortunately, I am blessed with excellent eyesight. True, I underwent cataract surgery several years ago but now, in my eighties, I am thankful that I see so well. I love colors, scenery, sunsets, sunrises, flower gardens, landscaping, midnight sparkling stars, true blue skies, snow covered mountains, cities with rising skyscrapers and charming homes. Of course, I enjoy looking at people and seeing their expressions, their eyes, which communicate heart messages. Yes, I realize that if I lost my eyesight and became permanently blind, I would be lost.
But have we ever thought about what is really there that we cannot 'see'? For example, can we 'see' wind? We know wind is there because we can hear it rattle the windows. We see the trees bend and the tall grass wave but do we see wind? Can we 'see' electricity? We know it is there because sometimes we see a spark. We know it is working because our lights turn on, but do we 'see' electricity?
What about the spiritual world. Do we 'see' God and His messengers guiding us, protecting us and caring for us? Also, do we 'see' evil forces that can grab people into accomplishing horrid behavior? Those of us who are believing Christians know we live in a spiritual battle between good and evil. Do we 'see' that battle? As we enter our final years on this physical earth our minds tend to think about the spiritual world. Our earthly lives have an ending. Therefore, what will happen to us? Will we enter a glorious Heaven or will we end in a dark, horrible, lonely existence? What do we 'see' out there? The Bible tells us angels exist. Do we 'see' them in our 21st Century world? Scripture tells us angels are messengers from God. Have you had an angel visit you lately? In our culture today it seems we don't believe something unless we 'see' it. Well, I have something exciting to share.
In 2010 at age 74, I was suddenly diagnosed with CNS (central nervous system) lymphoma, basically brain cancer, located in the left thalamus of my brain. The oncologist told me on July 6, 2010 that I had only seven weeks to live because my cancer was "acute, rare and fatal". The news shocked me but gave me pause because on May 26, 2010, just six weeks previously, I had been given a surprising, amazing, viable vision. In the middle of the night I suddenly awakened and saw a figure sitting on a beautiful upholstered chair with sunbeams radiating off him. He then spoke to me in a voice filled with power, authority and love. "You will be healed, BUT in my own time frame." At the time I wasn't even sick and I wondered what all this meant. Then, to my astonishment, Dick rolled over in bed and suddenly said, "Janet, who was just talking to you?" When I heard six weeks later that I had cancer of the brain and that I was going to die very soon, I knew that God would heal me. Yes, I 'saw' my Lord!
It is almost nine years since my diagnosis. My yearly MRIs continue to be clear. My mind is sharp and my memory accurate. True, I am left with residual right-sided weakness in walking and use of my right arm as a result of cancer-causing brain damage, which gives credence to my story. But I know without a doubt that the spiritual world exists! I now know with absolute assurance that my dying to this earthly life opens the door to live in Paradise with the Triune God. How wonderful to know where I'm going because I 'saw' with my own eyes that my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, is real!
Fortunately, I am blessed with excellent eyesight. True, I underwent cataract surgery several years ago but now, in my eighties, I am thankful that I see so well. I love colors, scenery, sunsets, sunrises, flower gardens, landscaping, midnight sparkling stars, true blue skies, snow covered mountains, cities with rising skyscrapers and charming homes. Of course, I enjoy looking at people and seeing their expressions, their eyes, which communicate heart messages. Yes, I realize that if I lost my eyesight and became permanently blind, I would be lost.
But have we ever thought about what is really there that we cannot 'see'? For example, can we 'see' wind? We know wind is there because we can hear it rattle the windows. We see the trees bend and the tall grass wave but do we see wind? Can we 'see' electricity? We know it is there because sometimes we see a spark. We know it is working because our lights turn on, but do we 'see' electricity?
What about the spiritual world. Do we 'see' God and His messengers guiding us, protecting us and caring for us? Also, do we 'see' evil forces that can grab people into accomplishing horrid behavior? Those of us who are believing Christians know we live in a spiritual battle between good and evil. Do we 'see' that battle? As we enter our final years on this physical earth our minds tend to think about the spiritual world. Our earthly lives have an ending. Therefore, what will happen to us? Will we enter a glorious Heaven or will we end in a dark, horrible, lonely existence? What do we 'see' out there? The Bible tells us angels exist. Do we 'see' them in our 21st Century world? Scripture tells us angels are messengers from God. Have you had an angel visit you lately? In our culture today it seems we don't believe something unless we 'see' it. Well, I have something exciting to share.
In 2010 at age 74, I was suddenly diagnosed with CNS (central nervous system) lymphoma, basically brain cancer, located in the left thalamus of my brain. The oncologist told me on July 6, 2010 that I had only seven weeks to live because my cancer was "acute, rare and fatal". The news shocked me but gave me pause because on May 26, 2010, just six weeks previously, I had been given a surprising, amazing, viable vision. In the middle of the night I suddenly awakened and saw a figure sitting on a beautiful upholstered chair with sunbeams radiating off him. He then spoke to me in a voice filled with power, authority and love. "You will be healed, BUT in my own time frame." At the time I wasn't even sick and I wondered what all this meant. Then, to my astonishment, Dick rolled over in bed and suddenly said, "Janet, who was just talking to you?" When I heard six weeks later that I had cancer of the brain and that I was going to die very soon, I knew that God would heal me. Yes, I 'saw' my Lord!
It is almost nine years since my diagnosis. My yearly MRIs continue to be clear. My mind is sharp and my memory accurate. True, I am left with residual right-sided weakness in walking and use of my right arm as a result of cancer-causing brain damage, which gives credence to my story. But I know without a doubt that the spiritual world exists! I now know with absolute assurance that my dying to this earthly life opens the door to live in Paradise with the Triune God. How wonderful to know where I'm going because I 'saw' with my own eyes that my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, is real!
Monday, January 14, 2019
Commitment to marriage is worth it!
We still can't believe it. On December 27, 2018, Dick and I celebrated our 60th Wedding Anniversary! Are we that old? I know people who have been married 70 and even 75 years. Yes, we are all living longer thanks to medical advances post World War II. But marriage in today's culture shows a 40% to 50% divorce rate. So how did Dick and I last over 60 years?
First of all, Dick was 29 and I was 22 when we married. Statistics prove that long successful marriages occur when couples marry at ages 28-32. We both came from close-knit stable families with parents celebrating 40 and 50 years of marriage before death intervened. We both are Christians but shockingly 45% of Christian marriages end in divorce. Both of us are strong-willed self-centered people. Both of us enjoyed productive professional careers and we had four children within 5 years. We lived under a tight budget which required respect from both of us and we certainly had many misunderstandings, discussions and opposite points of view. But we both state without hesitation that now, in our eighties, we still love each other.
How did we do it? Our answer to that question is, "If you remain committed to each other, and remember the depth of love you experienced on your wedding day, you too can experience a long marriage". The problem is not many people like the word 'committed'. Webster's dictionary states commitment is "an agreement or pledge to do something in the future". We have become such a self-centered culture that we forget the wedding day promise.
Raising four children created a busy, noisy, challenging home but we loved our son and 3 daughters (and still do). Dick taught 6th grade for 9 years and then was an elementary school principal for 27 years in Wyckoff, NJ. Even though I had my degree in nursing, I always loved to sing. In 1969, after winning a New York recital, I began singing opera, musical comedy, and oratorio, especially in the NJ and NY City area. By the mid 1970s I was singing across the US, Canada and other countries. After becoming soloist for Norman Vincent Peale, the singing became demanding, but I was committed as a wife and mother and determined to continue a family life. Dick was very supportive and he was also busy with all his professional responsibilities. We had serious pressures but we remained 'committed'.
Now in our senior years we are so glad we survived those busy years. In 1991 Dick retired and we moved to our lake house in Elgin, Ontario where we enjoyed 18 years of beautiful winter activities and summer fishing and swimming. Life became more challenging when I was suddenly diagnosed with CNS lymphoma (brain cancer) in July, 2010 and was given 7 weeks to live. But Jesus miraculously healed me (the oncologists confirm the miracle)! I remained in the hospital four months fighting the cancer and Dick was there every day, helping me in my totally weakened state. The psychologist on staff told me I was blessed to have a husband who remained at my bedside because he knew so many husbands who could not tolerate their wives with debilitating cancers. Dick kept repeating, "I'm here because I love you". Talk about commitment!
In the past few years our lives have been challenged once again as Dick was diagnosed with 'mild dementia' in 2014. Now I have become his caregiver in spite of my right-sided weakness. Our commitment and love for each other continue to steadily grow. Dick struggles with the slow progressive dementia because it is a frightening disease affecting relationships, socially and familial. Dick's dementia is not critical and he remains loving and attentive much of the time but the concern and worry for the caregiver is present 24/7.
As we grow older we realize we are unprepared for these unexpected problems that appear. When we look back at how we felt in our sixties and were newly retired expecting to live the next 20 plus years just enjoying life, we realize life is not that easy. But how wonderful to celebrate 60 years of marriage and know we are blessed by an everlasting God. How precious to say "I love you" to the man I married 60 years ago and to hear him say in response, "And I'll never stop loving you". That's the reward of commitment.
First of all, Dick was 29 and I was 22 when we married. Statistics prove that long successful marriages occur when couples marry at ages 28-32. We both came from close-knit stable families with parents celebrating 40 and 50 years of marriage before death intervened. We both are Christians but shockingly 45% of Christian marriages end in divorce. Both of us are strong-willed self-centered people. Both of us enjoyed productive professional careers and we had four children within 5 years. We lived under a tight budget which required respect from both of us and we certainly had many misunderstandings, discussions and opposite points of view. But we both state without hesitation that now, in our eighties, we still love each other.
How did we do it? Our answer to that question is, "If you remain committed to each other, and remember the depth of love you experienced on your wedding day, you too can experience a long marriage". The problem is not many people like the word 'committed'. Webster's dictionary states commitment is "an agreement or pledge to do something in the future". We have become such a self-centered culture that we forget the wedding day promise.
Raising four children created a busy, noisy, challenging home but we loved our son and 3 daughters (and still do). Dick taught 6th grade for 9 years and then was an elementary school principal for 27 years in Wyckoff, NJ. Even though I had my degree in nursing, I always loved to sing. In 1969, after winning a New York recital, I began singing opera, musical comedy, and oratorio, especially in the NJ and NY City area. By the mid 1970s I was singing across the US, Canada and other countries. After becoming soloist for Norman Vincent Peale, the singing became demanding, but I was committed as a wife and mother and determined to continue a family life. Dick was very supportive and he was also busy with all his professional responsibilities. We had serious pressures but we remained 'committed'.
Now in our senior years we are so glad we survived those busy years. In 1991 Dick retired and we moved to our lake house in Elgin, Ontario where we enjoyed 18 years of beautiful winter activities and summer fishing and swimming. Life became more challenging when I was suddenly diagnosed with CNS lymphoma (brain cancer) in July, 2010 and was given 7 weeks to live. But Jesus miraculously healed me (the oncologists confirm the miracle)! I remained in the hospital four months fighting the cancer and Dick was there every day, helping me in my totally weakened state. The psychologist on staff told me I was blessed to have a husband who remained at my bedside because he knew so many husbands who could not tolerate their wives with debilitating cancers. Dick kept repeating, "I'm here because I love you". Talk about commitment!
In the past few years our lives have been challenged once again as Dick was diagnosed with 'mild dementia' in 2014. Now I have become his caregiver in spite of my right-sided weakness. Our commitment and love for each other continue to steadily grow. Dick struggles with the slow progressive dementia because it is a frightening disease affecting relationships, socially and familial. Dick's dementia is not critical and he remains loving and attentive much of the time but the concern and worry for the caregiver is present 24/7.
As we grow older we realize we are unprepared for these unexpected problems that appear. When we look back at how we felt in our sixties and were newly retired expecting to live the next 20 plus years just enjoying life, we realize life is not that easy. But how wonderful to celebrate 60 years of marriage and know we are blessed by an everlasting God. How precious to say "I love you" to the man I married 60 years ago and to hear him say in response, "And I'll never stop loving you". That's the reward of commitment.
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Christmas Memories........
As seniors, we all have precious memories of Christmas. Just think, we have experienced 70, 80, or 90 Christmases! Researches in childhood psychology estimate earliest memories can be retained from age 3, especially if those experiences were happy. Certainly in our senior years we cherish family traditions gleaned from early childhood and wish to pass them on. But first we have to tell our families these stories.
I can remember the Christmas of 1948 when I was twelve. I dearly wished for just two things...a dressing table with a mirror and...a football. My parents burst out laughing when I told them. Why? I kept asking. To me, this request was perfectly logical. I needed the dressing table with mirror so I could study my face and cover all the pimples that kept cropping up. And I wished for the football so I could play 'touch football' with the neighborhood boys. After all, I loved getting involved into good-hearted physical sports activity.
Christmas Day arrived and Donald, my older brother, and I awoke early, of course, put on our warm bathrobes and sat on the top landing of our staircase while we waited impatiently for Daddy to climb down to the basement to shovel coke into our furnace so that the house would slowly warm up.
Wait a minute, what about this 'coke'? Isn't that a soda we drink?
Back in the 1940s we had a furnace that burned coke, a hardened version of coal, which burned slowly and efficiently to heat houses. The Coppers coke delivery truck would back into our driveway on Grand Avenue in Ridgefield Park, NJ and by means of a long chute, would deliver tons of coke through an open basement window, down the chute into our storage bin in the basement. Then my dad would shovel coke into the stove in the morning and the slow burning coke would keep us warm all day.
As soon as the furnace showed red-hot coke, Daddy would leave the basement, turn on the Christmas lights and call "Ready!" Donald and I would race down the steps in our cozy slippers and then gasp in amazement when we saw our long wished-for gifts sitting under the tree. That particular morning I shrieked with delight. There was my dressing table, painted white, dressed with white ruffles of white material. Standing on the smooth top was a perfectly clear three-fold mirror. And there on the floor sat a wrapped box with a red bow. Was it my...? I tore open the Christmas wrapping, lifted the lid and....Yes! There was my football! I was so excited I ran over and hugged and kissed my wonderful parents. (Later I discovered Daddy had built that dressing table with scrap lumber and Mommy had sewed the skirt.) Just what I wanted! Yes, such memories are endearing and filled with love.
Advance several decades later and I remember the hundreds of solo Christmas concerts I sang all over the country. Our three daughters were in grade school and joined me as my musical partner, Jane Douglass White, composed, arranged and accompanied on the piano all those familiar carols and traditional holiday songs. Beth, Carin and Diana captivated audiences as they sang selections from "Sound of Music" and gathered around me as I sang the musical rendition of "Twas the Night Before Christmas". The girls loved getting time off from school and rated the concerts, not on my singing, but on the tastiness of the cookies they were treated.
I specially loved singing my favorite, "O Holy Night". As my heart reached out to audiences I could sense the incredible power of love that surrounds us at Christmas time. We perhaps complain about the stress and busyness of the season but what is above us, in us, surrounding us during this time is the unmistakable presence of God. The Creator, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Almighty God of the universe loves all of us so much that he sent a tiny babe, both human and divine, to live with us for the purpose of dying for all our sins. What Majesty! In this season when we think about God's Son born by a teenage virgin mother, in the midst of smelly farm animals, celebrated by culturally outcast shepherds who heard the heavenly angels' announcement, worshipped by affluent astrologers from a pagan country, we have no choice but to "fall on your knees, hear the angel voices" and sing "O Night Divine, O Night when Christ was born!"
I can remember the Christmas of 1948 when I was twelve. I dearly wished for just two things...a dressing table with a mirror and...a football. My parents burst out laughing when I told them. Why? I kept asking. To me, this request was perfectly logical. I needed the dressing table with mirror so I could study my face and cover all the pimples that kept cropping up. And I wished for the football so I could play 'touch football' with the neighborhood boys. After all, I loved getting involved into good-hearted physical sports activity.
Christmas Day arrived and Donald, my older brother, and I awoke early, of course, put on our warm bathrobes and sat on the top landing of our staircase while we waited impatiently for Daddy to climb down to the basement to shovel coke into our furnace so that the house would slowly warm up.
Wait a minute, what about this 'coke'? Isn't that a soda we drink?
Back in the 1940s we had a furnace that burned coke, a hardened version of coal, which burned slowly and efficiently to heat houses. The Coppers coke delivery truck would back into our driveway on Grand Avenue in Ridgefield Park, NJ and by means of a long chute, would deliver tons of coke through an open basement window, down the chute into our storage bin in the basement. Then my dad would shovel coke into the stove in the morning and the slow burning coke would keep us warm all day.
As soon as the furnace showed red-hot coke, Daddy would leave the basement, turn on the Christmas lights and call "Ready!" Donald and I would race down the steps in our cozy slippers and then gasp in amazement when we saw our long wished-for gifts sitting under the tree. That particular morning I shrieked with delight. There was my dressing table, painted white, dressed with white ruffles of white material. Standing on the smooth top was a perfectly clear three-fold mirror. And there on the floor sat a wrapped box with a red bow. Was it my...? I tore open the Christmas wrapping, lifted the lid and....Yes! There was my football! I was so excited I ran over and hugged and kissed my wonderful parents. (Later I discovered Daddy had built that dressing table with scrap lumber and Mommy had sewed the skirt.) Just what I wanted! Yes, such memories are endearing and filled with love.
Advance several decades later and I remember the hundreds of solo Christmas concerts I sang all over the country. Our three daughters were in grade school and joined me as my musical partner, Jane Douglass White, composed, arranged and accompanied on the piano all those familiar carols and traditional holiday songs. Beth, Carin and Diana captivated audiences as they sang selections from "Sound of Music" and gathered around me as I sang the musical rendition of "Twas the Night Before Christmas". The girls loved getting time off from school and rated the concerts, not on my singing, but on the tastiness of the cookies they were treated.
I specially loved singing my favorite, "O Holy Night". As my heart reached out to audiences I could sense the incredible power of love that surrounds us at Christmas time. We perhaps complain about the stress and busyness of the season but what is above us, in us, surrounding us during this time is the unmistakable presence of God. The Creator, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, Almighty God of the universe loves all of us so much that he sent a tiny babe, both human and divine, to live with us for the purpose of dying for all our sins. What Majesty! In this season when we think about God's Son born by a teenage virgin mother, in the midst of smelly farm animals, celebrated by culturally outcast shepherds who heard the heavenly angels' announcement, worshipped by affluent astrologers from a pagan country, we have no choice but to "fall on your knees, hear the angel voices" and sing "O Night Divine, O Night when Christ was born!"
Tuesday, November 20, 2018
A Time to Laugh
When was the last time you had a good belly laugh? A time when you practically convulsed with loud, uproarious laughs so that strangers around you turned and stared at you wondering what on earth was so funny. We've all had those moments...but do we have them now? Do we find life full of fun when we're in our eighties and feel burdened with all our hardships and challenges?
The other day a friend of mine was walking to breakfast in the community dining room of our retirement center when a gentleman hastily approached her. "Excuse me, but you have a tail hanging down."
My friend was startled. "A tail? But I don't have a tail," she blurted. And then she quickly moved her hand around and to her astonishment grabbed a piece of soft pink cotton. "That's my pajamas! They were caught in my dress pants!" She held up her beautiful pink nightwear and laughed with glee.
She retold her story to a group of us later and our table rang with laughter. We were not laughing at her but with her. She was not embarrassed. She wanted to share her hilarious story with everyone.
I looked around our table as the eight of us were laughing so hard conversation was impossible as we pictured in our minds our lovely 91 year old friend walking down the hall and into the dining room with her lovely pink pajamas floating like a wagging tail behind her.
Here we were in our eighties and nineties, men and women, all with some kind of physical or emotional or mental struggle, now bound together in a joyous moment of roaring laughter with tears of joy running down our cheeks. How wonderful to be united in a few moments of utter free fun. Macular degeneration, dementia, arthritis, cancer, Parkinson tremors, chronic pain, asthma, grief all disappeared in our laughter.
Just this past week Dick and I had an occasion to be laughing with sheer thankful joy! Driving out the parking lot of a local store I touched my ear and suddenly realized I had lost an earring! Utter calamity! Quickly turned the car back to the same spot we had parked and there on the black macadam we saw our apartment keys! (Another potential calamity!) Dick had probably dropped them as he pulled the car keys from his pocket. Then we entered the store and searched. I was about to give up, but then, the store clerk suddenly announced, "Here it is!" Was on the floor! My favorite gold and pink dangly earring danced in the light. We kept laughing with grateful hearts all the way home. Surely this was 'a God thing'.
Yes, laughter is the best medicine! Science proves that laughter relieves physical stress. Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter triggers release of endorphins which are the body's feel good chemicals. Laughter protects the heart by increasing blood flow. Laughter burns calories. (Oh, I really like that one!) Laughter may even help you live longer!
Also, you can't be anxious, angry or sad when you're laughing. A laugh or a simple smile can help you feel better. That's why social interaction is so important. I know I've experienced times when I've been deeply concerned about something. Than I walk into a room filled with friends who are laughing and smiling which triggers me to join them with a smile and a chuckle.
Now let's be honest about smiles. What a simple thing to do, SMILE! Yet it seems that a lot of senior citizens don't smile very much. When your computer gives you trouble, when you stand for 20 minutes in the check-out at the super market, when you walk out to your car in freezing temperatures with snowflakes hitting your face, do you smile? Even though the challenge is there, a smile or chuckle removes your stress and anxiety. Try it!
Yes, the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes tells us in chapter 3: 1 "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven." Then verse 4 "a time to weep, and a time to laugh: a time to mourn and a time to dance". Laughter is one of the precious gifts God has given us, so let us smile and laugh and bring joy to our souls. As we gather around our Thanksgiving tables let laughter ring. God created the heavens and the earth and pronounced it "very good". Rejoice and be thankful for His goodness.
The other day a friend of mine was walking to breakfast in the community dining room of our retirement center when a gentleman hastily approached her. "Excuse me, but you have a tail hanging down."
My friend was startled. "A tail? But I don't have a tail," she blurted. And then she quickly moved her hand around and to her astonishment grabbed a piece of soft pink cotton. "That's my pajamas! They were caught in my dress pants!" She held up her beautiful pink nightwear and laughed with glee.
She retold her story to a group of us later and our table rang with laughter. We were not laughing at her but with her. She was not embarrassed. She wanted to share her hilarious story with everyone.
I looked around our table as the eight of us were laughing so hard conversation was impossible as we pictured in our minds our lovely 91 year old friend walking down the hall and into the dining room with her lovely pink pajamas floating like a wagging tail behind her.
Here we were in our eighties and nineties, men and women, all with some kind of physical or emotional or mental struggle, now bound together in a joyous moment of roaring laughter with tears of joy running down our cheeks. How wonderful to be united in a few moments of utter free fun. Macular degeneration, dementia, arthritis, cancer, Parkinson tremors, chronic pain, asthma, grief all disappeared in our laughter.
Just this past week Dick and I had an occasion to be laughing with sheer thankful joy! Driving out the parking lot of a local store I touched my ear and suddenly realized I had lost an earring! Utter calamity! Quickly turned the car back to the same spot we had parked and there on the black macadam we saw our apartment keys! (Another potential calamity!) Dick had probably dropped them as he pulled the car keys from his pocket. Then we entered the store and searched. I was about to give up, but then, the store clerk suddenly announced, "Here it is!" Was on the floor! My favorite gold and pink dangly earring danced in the light. We kept laughing with grateful hearts all the way home. Surely this was 'a God thing'.
Yes, laughter is the best medicine! Science proves that laughter relieves physical stress. Laughter boosts the immune system. Laughter triggers release of endorphins which are the body's feel good chemicals. Laughter protects the heart by increasing blood flow. Laughter burns calories. (Oh, I really like that one!) Laughter may even help you live longer!
Also, you can't be anxious, angry or sad when you're laughing. A laugh or a simple smile can help you feel better. That's why social interaction is so important. I know I've experienced times when I've been deeply concerned about something. Than I walk into a room filled with friends who are laughing and smiling which triggers me to join them with a smile and a chuckle.
Now let's be honest about smiles. What a simple thing to do, SMILE! Yet it seems that a lot of senior citizens don't smile very much. When your computer gives you trouble, when you stand for 20 minutes in the check-out at the super market, when you walk out to your car in freezing temperatures with snowflakes hitting your face, do you smile? Even though the challenge is there, a smile or chuckle removes your stress and anxiety. Try it!
Yes, the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes tells us in chapter 3: 1 "For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven." Then verse 4 "a time to weep, and a time to laugh: a time to mourn and a time to dance". Laughter is one of the precious gifts God has given us, so let us smile and laugh and bring joy to our souls. As we gather around our Thanksgiving tables let laughter ring. God created the heavens and the earth and pronounced it "very good". Rejoice and be thankful for His goodness.
Tuesday, October 16, 2018
Choosing dying with dignity
(this posting appeared in the Holland Sentinel 10/16/18)
In this day of medical and surgical intervention, we are all living longer. Just think, the advent of penicillin in the 1940s made a huge difference in battling bacterial infections and keeping people alive.
Yes, medical intervention is able to keep our physical bodies technically alive to the extent we can be hooked up to a machine for years. So, the question....is that the life we want to choose? A hundred years ago people just passed away in their homes, minus emergency care or medical intervention, because there wasn't any. But in our day, the medical team is committed to preserving some semblance of life. Since we all know we will definitely die some day, at God's appointed time, why not die with dignity?
Seniors have choices. In this year of 2018, legalities are very important as we make decisions and they change from state to state and sometimes year to year. But we do have some legal alternatives like DNR (do not resuscitate), Advance Health Care Directive, and Living Will with Durable Power of Attorney where we can make important decisions ourselves regarding end-of-life instead of placing that burden on loved ones.
In 2002 my mother died at age 93. She had lived alone in the house she and my dad had bought in 1957. She drove her Ford Encore until she was 90, when she made the decision herself to stop driving. She was in good health, though suffered from some arthritis and spinal stenosis. She had an active mind and memory. At 91 years we helped her hire live-in assistants. In January, 2002 we were notified that my mother had pneumonia and was entering the hospital so we quickly drove to NJ.
I stepped into room 3014 and smiled at the familiar loving face. My mother, her aged body looking so vulnerable in the hospital bed, grinned in response. "Are you in pain?" I asked.
"No," she said, closing her eyes, shielding me from some unpleasant reality.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I spoke the familiar words. Her voice picked up the verses, proclaiming her assurance of God's presence. Clasping the bony, arthritic hands, I wept.
The charge nurse appeared. "Time for your test."
'What test?" I challenged as I moved away from my mother's hearing.
"We've scheduled a special lung test."
"But she signed an Advance Directive for Health Care two years ago. She filed it with her doctor and here at the hospital. She does not want any extreme life-saving measures. I understand she had a CAT scan a short time ago. Why put her through any further discomfort?
She's lived a wonderful long life. She's not afraid to die. She's a Christian. She knows where she's going. Please let her go. I'm her daughter and I'm not afraid to let her die. That's what she wanted, to die with dignity. We talked about it."
The charge nurse looked at me with compassion. "I wish more families had your faith and peace. Come, I'll have the doctor talk with you."
As I spoke with the doctor, I realized the entire nursing staff was listening. "Please just let her go. No more tests. Let her die with dignity."
The doctor took a deep breath. '"Am I correct in saying you choose no further medical intervention?"
"Yes, and please give an order for No Code," I added.
As I returned to my mother's room, I wondered. If I were not a Christian, if I were not a nurse, I don't think I would have known what to say or do. What about families who are not familiar with medical language or do not have a strong Christian faith? How do they handle these situations? Do their loved ones end up on life support stretching the dying process to a painful, expensive siege?
Later that afternoon, my mother exhaled and slipped into unconsciousness. Then, as the flame of an antique slowly dims, her life slipped away and she entered the waiting arms of Jesus. The doctors, the nurses and the hospital had allowed her to die with dignity. They finally let her go.
We can all choose to die with dignity. Check out DNR and sign the legal form. Check out Advance Health Care Directive and specify your personal 'die with dignity' specifications. Check out Living Wills with Durable Power of Attorney. Let your wishes of dying with dignity be made known.
In this day of medical and surgical intervention, we are all living longer. Just think, the advent of penicillin in the 1940s made a huge difference in battling bacterial infections and keeping people alive.
Yes, medical intervention is able to keep our physical bodies technically alive to the extent we can be hooked up to a machine for years. So, the question....is that the life we want to choose? A hundred years ago people just passed away in their homes, minus emergency care or medical intervention, because there wasn't any. But in our day, the medical team is committed to preserving some semblance of life. Since we all know we will definitely die some day, at God's appointed time, why not die with dignity?
Seniors have choices. In this year of 2018, legalities are very important as we make decisions and they change from state to state and sometimes year to year. But we do have some legal alternatives like DNR (do not resuscitate), Advance Health Care Directive, and Living Will with Durable Power of Attorney where we can make important decisions ourselves regarding end-of-life instead of placing that burden on loved ones.
In 2002 my mother died at age 93. She had lived alone in the house she and my dad had bought in 1957. She drove her Ford Encore until she was 90, when she made the decision herself to stop driving. She was in good health, though suffered from some arthritis and spinal stenosis. She had an active mind and memory. At 91 years we helped her hire live-in assistants. In January, 2002 we were notified that my mother had pneumonia and was entering the hospital so we quickly drove to NJ.
I stepped into room 3014 and smiled at the familiar loving face. My mother, her aged body looking so vulnerable in the hospital bed, grinned in response. "Are you in pain?" I asked.
"No," she said, closing her eyes, shielding me from some unpleasant reality.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I spoke the familiar words. Her voice picked up the verses, proclaiming her assurance of God's presence. Clasping the bony, arthritic hands, I wept.
The charge nurse appeared. "Time for your test."
'What test?" I challenged as I moved away from my mother's hearing.
"We've scheduled a special lung test."
"But she signed an Advance Directive for Health Care two years ago. She filed it with her doctor and here at the hospital. She does not want any extreme life-saving measures. I understand she had a CAT scan a short time ago. Why put her through any further discomfort?
She's lived a wonderful long life. She's not afraid to die. She's a Christian. She knows where she's going. Please let her go. I'm her daughter and I'm not afraid to let her die. That's what she wanted, to die with dignity. We talked about it."
The charge nurse looked at me with compassion. "I wish more families had your faith and peace. Come, I'll have the doctor talk with you."
As I spoke with the doctor, I realized the entire nursing staff was listening. "Please just let her go. No more tests. Let her die with dignity."
The doctor took a deep breath. '"Am I correct in saying you choose no further medical intervention?"
"Yes, and please give an order for No Code," I added.
As I returned to my mother's room, I wondered. If I were not a Christian, if I were not a nurse, I don't think I would have known what to say or do. What about families who are not familiar with medical language or do not have a strong Christian faith? How do they handle these situations? Do their loved ones end up on life support stretching the dying process to a painful, expensive siege?
Later that afternoon, my mother exhaled and slipped into unconsciousness. Then, as the flame of an antique slowly dims, her life slipped away and she entered the waiting arms of Jesus. The doctors, the nurses and the hospital had allowed her to die with dignity. They finally let her go.
We can all choose to die with dignity. Check out DNR and sign the legal form. Check out Advance Health Care Directive and specify your personal 'die with dignity' specifications. Check out Living Wills with Durable Power of Attorney. Let your wishes of dying with dignity be made known.
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