Salivary Gland Stones

In January, I went to the dentist for my routine cleaning and check-up. As I lay there with my mouth wide open, I heard my dentist say, “You have a blockage in your right salivary gland. Did you know that?” I did not. I didn’t even know that a blockage to the salivary gland was possible! I knew that there was a little bump on the side of my cheek, but I thought I’d just bit it and caused it to grow back weird. Nope. I had a blockage—a “little stone” to be exact. And no matter what my dentist did, he could not get the stone out. I left his office with a referral to an oral surgeon.

 

For six weeks, I avoided contacting an oral surgeon because I was afraid of how much it was going to cost. The blockage only hurt occasionally and wasn’t bothering me in the least, so I just kept the referral and went about my business.

 

Last week, as I was reviewing the benefits of my supplemental insurance policies for school, I noticed that I could get partially reimbursed for oral surgery on a lesion—and that’s what my dentist put on the referral form. Not as worried about money anymore, I contacted a local oral surgeon and scheduled an appointment for this past Tuesday.

 

As I lay in the dentist chair once again, I listened as the surgeon explained that it’s rare to see a stone in the parotid gland—which is the salivary gland that is located on the side of the face, near the ear. He explained how he normally sees stones in another gland and shared with me the reasons that this is so. He said a whole lot of other things, too, and I tried to listen, but all I could think was, “I’m pretty sure this is a stone in my mouth. I can feel it. It’s been there for awhile. And it’s not going anywhere.”

 

Finally, as the surgeon looked in my mouth, he said, “Well. That certainly looks like a stone!”

 

He tried to dilate the salivary gland duct to make the stone pass, but it was too large. Eventually, after explaining everything that he was doing and asking my permission before he did it, he made a small slit in my cheek. It hurt less than the last time I accidentally bit the side of my mouth. I thought that he was going to have to keep cutting but suddenly he said, “There’s more than one stone in here!”

 

That’s right, folks. Not only did I have the rare parotid stone, but I had two of them! One stone was circular and smooth. This is the one that I could see in my mouth. The other stone was triangular and jagged. This is the one that had been hiding the whole time. The entire office was fascinated by my treasure. I couldn’t help but laugh at their excitement. I was excited, too. I like providing people with rare opportunities!

 

The surgeon was very nice. I thought that I was going in for a consultation and that I’d have to return for the procedure, but he went on and did the procedure that day. He didn’t charge me for oral surgery and he didn’t charge an absorbent amount of money for his work. I will not be able to be reimbursed from my supplemental insurance company, but that’s okay. Because the stones are gone. And my bank isn’t broken.

 

This whole experience with my parotid (salivary) gland stones has been new and unexpected. What is something new or unexpected that has happened to you lately?

 

I’d love to hear.

The Fulfillment of Life

 

A few months ago, Joe The Counselor recommended that I read “Aging: The Fulfillment of Life” by Henri Nouwen. According to Amazon, “Aging: The Fulfillment of Life” is a book that “shows how to make the later years a source of hope rather than a time of loneliness -- a way out of darkness into the light. ‘Aging,’ the authors write, ‘is not a reason for despair, but a basis of hope, not a slow decaying, but a gradual maturing, not a fate to be undergone but a chance to be embraced.’"

 

Joe knows well the issues that I have with getting older—the fears that I carry around death and dying—so I bought the book. It’s been sitting on my bedside table for months. Last Wednesday, as Lent began, I decided that I would finally read it. And so I began. And I quietly cried.

 

“Desolation is the crippling experience of the shrinking circle of friends with the devastating awareness that the few years left to live will not allow you to widen the circle again. Desolation is the gnawing feeling of being left behind by those who have been close and dear to you during the many years of life. It is the knowledge of the heart saying that nobody else will be as close to you as the friend you have lost…You have only one life cycle to live and only a few really entered that cycle and became your travel companions, sharing the moments of ecstasy and despair, as well as the long days of routine living. When they leave you, you know you have to travel on alone. Even to the friendly people who you will meet on your way, you will never be able to say, ‘Do you remember?’ because they were not there when you lived it. Then life becomes like a series of reflections in a broken window…[Desolation] means a rupture in one’s history, a cutting away of familiar ties, a social denudation. In this desolation the experience of loneliness breaks through to the center of one’s existence, a loneliness often expressed in fond memories of the time when one was still together with friends and relatives.”

 

Even now, as I copy this excerpt, I feel deep a sadness in my heart. Losing friends and loved ones, whether it be through a cut-off, through the natural progression of life, or through death, is one of the things that I fear most in life. It hurts so very bad. So knowing that this is a reality of growing older cuts straight to my core. And yet… I feel a strange sense of hope and encouragement as I reflect upon this passage today: I feel a deep conviction to honor and celebrate the relationships in my life while they are here.

 

Sometimes, I get so caught up in the fear of being alone that I forget to be present with those around me. And sometimes, I worry so much about people leaving that I stop myself from getting too close lest I get hurt when they do. But what is the point of this? Hurt will come regardless. Today’s passage on desolation reminds us of such. So why not dive in completely and live the full catastrophe life that Joe so often challenges me to live? Why not give it my all and pour myself out completely while I have the opportunity to do so? Why not pour out so much love that I forget how to do anything else…

 

God is love. God’s love never fails. God is always present. Always with us. Always real. So why not tap into that love and let it flow in deep, rich, and powerful ways? Why not let this be the fulfillment of life? Right now. Today. Tomorrow. As we grow older and maybe even as we grow toward alone…

 

Amen.

Kay

 

It never fails. Whenever there is any type of wintery weather (and sometimes even just the threat of it), I think of Kay.

 

I think of the time when I went against my dad’s wishes and drove two hours in ice and snow to attend Kay’s dad’s funeral.

 

Kay was a pastor. She was a mentor and friend to many. Yet on that day—that nasty winter day—Kay, an only child with no living relatives, was completely alone…until a friend and I got to the funeral.

 

As soon as we got there, Kay came to the foyer of the chapel and hugged us. She then asked if we would sit with her on the family pew and ride with her to the gravesite in the family car. We agreed. We sat with Kay as she cried. We stood with Kay as funeral home workers lowered her dad’s coffin into the ground. We waited for Kay as she retrieved her father’s belongings. And we road alongside Kay as she made her way back to Harnett County. She didn’t have a cell phone or a reliable car. We didn’t want her making the journey alone.

 

Alone.

 

If I’m honest, and an accidental two days without my anxiety medicine will make me completely honest, being alone is one of my biggest fears. I had the fear before Kay, but after Kay the fear grew stronger.

 

Kay dedicated her life to those around her. She gave her money to those in need. She served tirelessly to enrich people’s lives. She was loved by so many people…yet in the end, she died alone.

 

She died on a Sunday night. We found her body on a Tuesday night. We watched as the rescue squad rolled her body away. When it came time to clean out her townhouse, we were there. But no one else was there. None of the people she had dedicated her life to loving and serving were there. A friend and I were left to sort through her belongings—to try to figure out what to do with all that remained. It clearly traumatized and impacted me in a very deep and real way.

 

While I know that there are differences between Kay and me—the largest of which is that I have parents, a brother and sister, nephews and a niece, aunts and an uncle, and cousins—there are also many similarities between Kay and me.

 

And so, on winter weather days, and on days when my brain chemicals are way off balance, I always think of Kay.

 

I celebrate the time when I know I did something right—I grieve her untimely loss—and I face one of my biggest fears, that of living and dying alone.

 

What about you, friend? What is something you know you did right? What is something you grieve? What is one of your biggest fears? Who is someone who has impacted your life in very deep and profound ways?

 

Please share. I’d love to hear.

 

In this season of Lent, may we walk life’s road together.

MLK, Jr.

And I wondered all the way to work: What songs are so important to me that I would spontaneously include their lyrics in a speech to over 200,000 people?

 

Each year, I teach about Martin Luther King, Jr. I teach about the timbre of his voice, the circumstances in which he was raised, the importance of music in his life, and the impact of his life in general. Because it is the most recognizable and the most widely written about of his speeches, I focus on his “I Have A Dream” speech, although this year, I have expanded to include excerpts from his “We Shall Overcome” speech.

 

Over the years, I have learned so much about MLK, Jr.’s “I Have A Dream” speech. It has truly fascinated me and given me goose bumps on many occasions. For instance, did you know that Martin didn’t plan to give his “I Have A Dream” speech that day in Washington? Yes. He was slated to speak at the march. In fact, he agreed to speak during the last spot of the day because no one else wanted it—they figured the crowd would have dissipated and the cameras would have gone home. But he hadn’t prepared a speech that was full of his dreams. It wasn’t until Mahalia Jackson hollered out, “Tell ‘em about the dream, Martin,” that he digressed from his written comments and spoke what has become his legacy. While you can’t hear Mahalia Jackson saying this on the recording of the full speech, you CAN see where he stops looking down at his notes and you can hear where his voice changes into something truly inspired. It’s really quite remarkable.

 

What’s more, in his five minutes of extemporaneous passion, Martin Luther King, Jr. mentions the lyrics of not one but two different songs! He quotes the entirety of “My Country Tis of Thee (America)” and uses the last phrase, “Let freedom ring,” as a springboard for most of the rest of his speech. And he quotes the chorus of “Free At Last.”

 

“…And when we allow freedom to ring…We will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old negro spiritual ‘Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty we are free at last!’” *figuratively drops mic and walks away* I absolutely love this!

 

And this leads me back to the question that I pondered all the way to work: What songs are so important to me that I would spontaneously include their lyrics in a speech to over 200,000 people?

 

For MLK, Jr. it was “My Country Tis of Thee” and “Free at Last.”

 

For me? It’s…

 

For you?...

 

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

 

And by the way…Did you know that “Free At Last” was such an important song to MLK, Jr. that the words are printed on his tombstone? Powerful, huh?

A Bear and A Creature With A Gaping Mouth

 

There’s a cut-back bush at the front of the school.

I see it every day when I’m on duty.

On the cut-back bush, there’s a bear. 

And a creature with a gaping mouth.

I don’t know where they came from.

The bear and the creature with a gaping mouth.

I don’t know why they’re there.

I just know they’re there.

Each on its own branch.

Alone.

Abandoned.

Possibly waiting for someone to claim them.

Possibly waiting for the moment when someone will see them and recognize their worth.

But what is their worth?

A bear and a creature with a gaping mouth.

 

There’s a cut-back heart walking the halls of the school.

I see it every day.

In the cut-back heart, there’s a boy.

Or a girl with a longing soul.

I don’t know exactly where they come from.

The boy and the girl with a longing soul.

I don’t know exactly why they’re here.

I just know they’re here.

Each in his/her own private hell.

Feeling alone.

Feeling abandoned.

Waiting for someone to claim them.

Waiting for the moment when someone will see them and recognize their worth.

But what is their worth?

A boy and a girl with a longing soul.

 

Everything.

Their worth is everything.

And it’s up to us

To see them

To claim them

And to give them home.

Bus Driver Appreciation Week

Nothing can make everyone happy.

I checked my Facebook Feed after last night’s Super Bowl Halftime Show and

Found myself scrolling between posts either loving or hating the performance.

One post would love it.

One post would hate it.

One post would love it.

One post would hate it.

You get the idea.

I didn’t watch it. I have no opinion.

All I know is that

Nothing can make everyone happy.

And yet…some things should.

 

This week is Bus Driver Appreciation Week.

Have you ever thought about how difficult it is—or would be—to be a school bus driver?

Bus drivers are the only adult with sometimes 72 children on a bus.

Drivers must face forward, which means their backs are turned away from said 72 children,

Yet they are responsible for keeping order and discipline on their buses,

All while maintaining their routes in a safe, expedited manner.

They are the first school representative that children see each day.

They can make or break a kid’s mood right for the day.

They are the last school representative that children see each day.

They can make or break a kid’s desire to want to return to the school on the morrow.

Bus drivers must leave incredibly early in the mornings and

They must drive late in the afternoons.

They must drive in perfect weather conditions and perilous weather conditions,

Sometimes without heat, sometimes without air,

And they must keep their own buses clean,

Oftentimes having to provide their own cleaning supplies.

 

To be highly appreciated for one week is a drop in the bucket for the work that our bus drivers do each day.

And so…this week should make everyone happy.

And yet…I would wager that there are some people who think that Bus Driver Appreciation is unnecessary—

That bus drivers shouldn’t need special recognition

And that they should simply be thankful to have work…

Yet I disagree.

I think that bus drivers DO deserve the special recognition.

This week and beyond.

 

And so…if you are a bus driver: THANK YOU.

And I stand by this thanksgiving…

Whether it makes people happy or not 😊.

We Shall Overcome

Today is my niece’s 13^th birthday. As I reflect upon her life, and celebrate her for all that she is, I can’t help but realize that she could have been one of my students for most of her schooling. When I think about it like that, my heart feels a combination of happiness and sadness—happiness for all of the years that I’ve watched her grow into the beautiful young lady that she is, and sadness for all that she’s had to face and will have to face as she grows up in such a time as this.

 

I’m currently teaching my 4^th and 5^th graders “We Shall Overcome.” We’re learning about MLK, Jr. and the Civil Rights movement and how important music was to both. As part of our lessons on “We Shall Overcome,” I explain to students that we have overcome a lot—that segregation is no longer legal and that MLK, Jr.’s dream has begun to come true—but that we still have a lot to overcome. I then ask them to share some of things they think we must overcome.

 

Their list is staggering:

 

Covid 19

People still treating black and brown people unfairly

Difficult tasks

Pollution

Black Lives Matter

Body shaming

Name calling

Being used

Fake friends

Looks

Smoking

Vaping

Drugs

Jail

Which president we have

Breaking things and having to buy them again

Bullying

Cyberbullying

Pain

Violence

Gun violence

Drinking and driving

Texting and driving

Hackers

 

These are 10 and 11-year-olds, folks. Body shaming? Fake friends? Drugs? Gun violence? Why are they experiencing these things so young? And what are we doing to see that they overcome these experiences—and more?

 

Another verse of “We Shall Overcome” says, “We’ll walk hand in hand.” As I think about that verse, and I think about my students, and I think about my sweet Amelia, I can’t help but wonder if I am doing everything that I can to literally and figuratively walk hand in hand with those around me—if I am doing everything that I can to literally and figuratively help them overcome whatever it is that they need to rise above. I can’t help but wonder if you are doing the same…

 

Oh God, in this wounded, hurting society, may we find the strength and courage to live into your truth and overcome all that is broken in the world. There is so much yet to overcome, yet with your wisdom and love, moment by moment, day by day, we CAN overcome, walk hand in hand, and live in peace. Help us God. Help us. Always. Amen.

Anniversary

 

On Thursday, my word was Peace.

Today, my word is Love.

Because today is my parents’ 57^th wedding anniversary.

I cannot imagine all that my mom and dad have seen and experienced

In their 57 years together.

But what I can imagine and

What I see each day is

Love.

 

Love is many things.

There are many types of love.

Love is the center of novels, short stories, essays, and poems.

There are endless verses of scripture, songs, and quotes about love.

Love is the driving motivation for much of what we do.

There is no way to capture love in one note,

Especially 57 years of love.

 

And so…

I ask you to share your favorite words of love

In honor of my parents today.

What is love to you?

 

To me, today,

After witnessing my dad cry 

At the thought of how much he loves my mom,

Love is:

 

“I am overwhelmed

Moved to the point of tears by

The way you love me”

 

And to me, today,

Thinking about 57 years with one partner,

Love is:

 

“I love you now

I love you then

I love you yesterday

I love you today

I love you always

I love you still

I love you beginning

I love you end”

 

But for you, today,

What is love?

 

For you, always,

What is love?