Why I Think Dogs Are [hu]Man's Best Friend

I’ve always heard that dogs are man’s best friend. I’m going to extend that male language to include females and say that dogs are human’s best friend. While I realize that there are always exceptions to this rule, I’ve come to believe that, for the most part, it really is true…and these are my reasons why:

1) Words of Affirmation. While dogs can’t speak English, they can speak. And the words they speak through their excited squeals, ecstatic barks, and fully-at-peace-snores fill the hearer with an incredible sense of being wanted and needed and of being able to do something right in making a flesh and blood creature feel such a deep sense of happiness and safety.

2) Physical Touch. Big dogs can actually reach up and hug a person (or knock them down). Little dogs can only paw on legs but their outpouring of physical connection is still very real. Dogs lick-kiss people out of love, curl up in laps or sleep on pillows in beds, and provide a warmly soft fur to pet. I don’t know what it is, but there is something about touch that is both healing and comforting…even when the dog stinks like, well, a dog.

3) Quality Time. Need someone to give you undivided attention? Play with your dog. When a dog loves you, the dog LOVES you and wants to spend time with no one more than you.

4) Acts of Service. Need that lost sock? Or that disgusting dog toy? Your dog will likely find it for you. And. If you’re really good, then you can train your dog to fetch the remote for you…not to mention that dogs serve as doorbells and security systems and vacuum cleaners for the kitchen…and dogs that serve as companion dogs for those in need.

5) Gifts. Those spots of grass that grow especially green in your yard? Those spots are gifts from your dog. So are all four of the points above…and the gift of forgiveness for when we are absolutely stupid human beings.

6) Talk Therapy. Sometimes, all we need to do is talk. We don’t need advice. We don’t need suggestions for an immediate fix. We just need to talk. To speak aloud. And to be heard with ears that are safe, non-judgmental, and full of unconditional love. Dogs have those ears…and they’re especially soft…and cute when they’re unevenly flopped.

I suppose that if you know me then you know that this note was inspired by Bullet (our joint custody fat ball of stinky old man dog). But it was also inspired by a conversation in class today and by all of the dogs that I know persons in my life love.

Who is that dog in your life? [Or who was he/she?] And what would you add to my list of reasons why dogs are [hu]man’s best friend?

Hug

Hug is a pillow that my friend Krista made me a few years ago. She stuffed the inside of a sweatshirt; sewed together all openings; placed Velcro on the bottom of the sleeves where hands would clasp; and wrote the word “Hug” on the outside. She said whenever I needed a hug, then I could wrap hug around me, attach the Velcro, and have an instant hug.

I thought it was a brilliant idea.

I still think it’s a brilliant idea.

And today, it’s an idea that I offer to you should you ever need to give someone a hug but live many miles away.

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Also…

If you’re considering doing counseling, then be forewarned that you will come face to face with your demons. Your theology will be challenged. Your fears hooked. Your weaknesses exposed. Your patterns of certainty compromised. You will have to feel, reflect, and write when you wish you could stop. But. In it all, your life will change and you will discover strengths that you did not know you had.

A Ministry of Dreams

I haven’t posted anything profound in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday (although I’ve enjoyed reading numerous quotes of inspiration). I haven’t listened to his speeches or watched any videos or done anything to outwardly celebrate the day. But I’ve remembered my teaching years and all of the MLK books that I read to my students. I’ve remembered the songs we sang and my visit to The Civil Rights Museum last January. I’ve felt inward gratitude for a life well-lived and prayed that my life would one day make even a fraction of the difference of his. And I’ve cleaned. I’ve cleaned a house and a computer and I’ll clean out some files tonight.

As I was leaving my house-cleaning job today, Mrs. Flora, the awesome lady whose house I clean, looked at me and said, “I hope you know I really enjoy it when you come. Not just the job that you do cleaning the house. But I enjoy having you here.” I said, “I enjoy coming. I’m glad that I get to come.” And I meant every word.

In the midst of my heavy scrubbing and detailed vacuuming, I thought to myself, “This would go much more quickly if there were more than one of me. Like on church clean-up days when everyone comes together and splits up the work. Maybe churches should organize member clean-up days for persons whose mobility or place in life keeps them from cleaning their houses to their liking. Wait a minute. My youth sort of did that when I worked at Erwin. Maybe someone should do it again. Add that to the list of church ministries you want to start if you ever work on church staff again.”

And what is that list, you might ask?

1) Rocking Chair Ministry. This idea was inspired by two experiences: Sitting in the rocking chairs at Cracker Barrel and having a wonderful time with a group of friends in town for a wedding and spending time talking in rocking chairs each night at Mars Hill College during a retreat on contemplative prayer. I think it would be neat to have an outdoor porch/area at the church where persons could come each day or week simply to sit, talk, and rock. This would be a wonderful way to build community. It would be “office hours” in rocking chairs!

2) New Shoe Ministry. This idea was inspired by Kyle Matthews’ song, “Been Through The Water” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5wEpAKEmZs). The specific lyric that inspired this idea is: “He said I've been through the water and I've come out clean ~ Got new clothes to cover me ~ And you don't wear your old shoes on your brand new feet ~ When you've been through the water.” Fitting with the symbolism of baptism—the old dying and the new coming to life—I think it would be neat to give each baptismal candidate a new pair of shoes after his/her baptism. The baptism committee could take care of these details.

3) Car Cleaning Ministry. This idea was inspired by car duty during my teaching years. It never ceased to amaze me how filthy cars could be as they drove through the car line. I’m not talking about the outside of the cars; I’m talking about the inside. Sometimes kids had to climb over trash to get out of the car. Sometimes trash fell out of the car as the kids got out. I think it would be neat to have a free car vacuuming ministry once a month. This ministry could include a coffee shop with baked goods so that persons could have a place to sit while their cars were being worked on…or it could just be a straightforward vacuuming service.

4) House Cleaning Ministry. This idea was inspired by Mrs. Flora…as mentioned above.

I don’t know if these ministries will ever become reality. But I can hope, eh? And I can dream.
Isn’t that what this day is all about?

In Solidarity With Love

Sitting on the couch, stinky white dog beside me, mismatched black socks warming my feet, brown shorts and black t-shirt demonstrating an outfit the fashion police would arrest, I must jot down the things that I learned or pondered during my first on-call at the hospital on Wednesday:

1) The residents and Spiritual Care staff at the hospital are wonderful. They willingly and graciously helped me through the daytime portion of my duty, patiently guiding and mentoring me through a vast field of ignorance. To see them using their gifts and passions to minister not only to patients and family members but also to me was a humbling and inspiring experience.

Each day when I worked for SC WMU, we’d pray for missionaries who had birthdays on that day. We’d call the International and North American Missionaries by name but we would lump the chaplains and volunteers together by category because there are so many chaplains and volunteers sharing Christ’s love. Yesterday, that prayer for chaplains and volunteers took on new meaning as I observed and experienced firsthand the peace-giving work of the chaplain. I’m going to try to start praying for the chaplains that I know by name every day, and I’m going to start with the wonderful people that I’m working with now.

2) It is super important to have at least one or two emergency contact numbers memorized! Thanks to the speed dial on my cell phone, I don’t know many telephone numbers at all. But. If I’m ever in a trauma situation where I can speak and the chaplain asks me if there is anyone that I want them to call for me then I need to know the number. You do, too. Contrary to popular opinion, the wallet, purse, and/or phone don’t always stay with you when you enter the Emergency Department.

3) Badge holders with retractable elastic come in very handy when the name tag includes cheat sheets of vital information. While emergency contact numbers should be memorized, all information in the world shouldn’t…especially when it can be easily accessed via said badge.

4) Although I’m not a fan of wearing them myself, I think that everyone should wear a name tag. Names are important. Being called by name is important. Looking someone in the eye and calling him/her by name instills a sense of dignity that too often gets lost. It also provides incentive not to act out or do anything that would shame a person’s name. I’m terrible with names. I want to get better at remembering them. In the meantime, I’ll start lobbying for embracing the name tag.

5) I don’t want to eat barbeque or a salad in the middle of the night. The idea of heavy dinner food and/or a salad in the wee hours of the morning feels wrong to me. Yet. I think it’s great that the hospital cafeteria serves these foods to those who otherwise wouldn’t get them because they are sleeping during the day so they can work at night.

6) It’s okay to cry. To weep actually.

[Selah]

7) Sometimes permission can set us free. I went into yesterday terrified of doing something wrong. My old script of needing to perfect—to please everyone—to do the “right” thing—had been screaming at me for two weeks, trying to convince me that I was going to fail with chaplaincy. After shadowing the residents and talking to my supervisor, however, I was able to soften that loud voice and remember what I know to be true: no one is perfect, I am my own worst enemy, and life is about much more than right or wrong. My supervisor told me that she trusted me—that I wouldn’t have been accepted into the program if she didn’t think I could do it. She encouraged me to trust my gut and to minister out of my gifts and abilities—because they are vast. The residents showed me that it’s okay to get turned around in the hospital, that I didn’t need to panic when I hear the pager go off, that it’s okay to touch people on the shoulder, that it’s okay to laugh, that it’s okay to ask questions, that it’s essential to remain hydrated. One resident told me that I had a naturally calming presence and a patient said the exact same thing at 2am.

[Selah]

For yesterday’s spiritual care office devotion, we read Psalm 46 and focused on verse 10: “Be still and know that I am God.” As we sat together in the holy and sacred silence that is God, I breathed in the breath of life that is the Spirit and prayed to represent the love and peace that are Christ.

I made it through my first on-call because those around me must have prayed the same thing.

[Selah]

I will rest now. I can barely keep my eyes open. The dog, my mismatched socks, and my lovely outfit are ready to rest, too…and fall asleep thanking God for the communion of saints and the prayers of a people standing in solidarity with Love.

Sometimes I Treat The Dog As Human

Friday was a beautiful day. It was overcast and rainy and I enjoyed the gray sky that filled my sight when I looked outside.

And. I was out and about for the most of the day.

Saturday was a beautiful day, too. It was clear and sunny and I enjoyed the blue sky that filled my sight when I looked outside.

Yet. I managed to stay inside for most of the day.

Until Twilight.

It was at that point that I realized that if I wanted to vacuum the car that I’d left in the driveway with the window down then I needed to do it then. So out I went.

Only to realize that the most-often-used orange extension cord was missing because I’d left it at the back of the house with the leaf blower (well over a month ago) and that the other orange extension cord was missing because…well…I had no idea.

I quickly found the first missing cord, connected it to the Shop Vac, and vacuumed my car. But the second one?

“Bullet? Your dad has so much stuff in this garage! Well, I guess he’s not technically your dad. But still. Did you know your dad has a lot of stuff?”

“You’re a good dog, Bullet. Thanks for sitting with me while I clean this garage.”

“There’s the other extension cord, Bullet! I found it!!”

“Oh. Hey, Millie! You want a bone? Hold on and I’ll get you a bone.”

“Just a few more minutes, Bullet, and then we’ll go in the house and sit on the couch.”

Five hours after dusk--conversation with Bullet thorough and complete, car vacuumed, trunk cleaned out, garage swept and somewhat organized, extension cords found, clothes dirty, dog very sleepy, fog covering the world--I went back inside, gave the dog a treat, and sat down with a very content Bullet whose dad’s garage had been cleaned.

When is the last time you cleaned your garage? Or talked to your dog? Or vacuumed your car? Or had an absolutely beautiful day of which to speak? Please share.

Jesus Knows How I Feel

I’ve always enjoyed bowling. Growing up, when visiting my grandmother in Florida, I’d often ask my cousin and brother if we could go play bowling. They’d always tell me that you don’t play bowling but that you bowl. It took me a long time to get the language right but I finally did. I went on bowling excursions with my youth group in high school, took bowling for PE in college, and bowled with a league while in SC. I actually just put my 2012/2013 USBC membership card in my wallet last night.

One of my favorite bowling experiences, though, occurred not when I was bowling seriously but when I went bowling for my 21st birthday. I was serving on a summer missions team in the mountains at the time so my parents and sister drove across state to spend the day with me. That birthday bowling excursion was a very welcome break in the summer because we were serving on staff at a camp for adults with physical and mental disabilities at the time. I was way out of my comfort zone.

On the first night of the camp, the kitchen staff served spaghetti. The camper sitting across from me had spaghetti all over his face and watching him eat it made me physically feel ill. Later that night when the campers entered worship I quickly realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I don’t remember if it was that night or sometime later in the week but I remember finding myself sitting outside in the parking lot, guitar in hand, crying out to God in weakness and insecurity. It was that night that I had one of the most profound realizations of my life and recorded it in this song:

Jesus knows how I feel because he's been here before
He has felt all the pain, he has felt all the joy
That comes in this life, through living each day
Through learning to love, and give it away
Jesus knows how I feel

I see them there, their hearts cry out
For a voice to simply talk to them
But my voice gets stuck in my throat
Just like a child too shy to talk to a neighbor

So I fall down to the ground
I can't get up, my strength is gone
These tears I've cried have drained my soul
And I don't know how to let go

I see them there, their hearts cry out
For a hand to simply reach and touch them
But my hands are stuck behind my back
And I don't know how to untie them

So I fall down to the ground
I can't get up, my strength is gone
These tears I've cried have drained my soul
Will compassion ever flow?

Jesus knows how I feel because He's been here before
He has felt all the pain, he has felt all the joy
That comes in this life through living each day
Through learning to love and give it away
Jesus knows how I feel

And I believe that Jesus does.

Jesus saw people, had compassion on them, laughed with them, cried with them, spoke to them, and touched them. Jesus knew when people were hurting and Jesus did whatever he could to take their hurt away, treat them with dignity and respect, and make their lives a little better.

There is a lot that I don’t understand in this life. I don’t understand sickness, disease, trauma, long-term illness, disabilities, pain, crime, or anything else that causes suffering. I don’t understand why bad things happen to good people and I feel sick when I think about the process of death and dying. I didn’t understand things on that night when I went bowling in 1998 and I don’t understand things now as I embark on my journey of chaplaincy.

But I do understand this: I don’t have to understand everything and I don’t have to make everything right. Like Jesus, I only need to see people, have compassion on them, laugh with them, cry with them, speak to them, and touch them…just as I ended up doing after sitting in the parking lot that night in the mountains.

Jesus knows how I feel (even if he never bowled). And a lot of other people do, too. And I’m so very glad.

Along The Way

A few years ago, I bought a pair of solid leather shoes. After spending quite a bit of money on the shoes, I prayed that God would bless them and allow me to wear them for many years, ministering to people along the way.

A few days ago, I got a new phone. After spending quite a bit of time contemplating what kind of phone I needed, I decided to go with a mildly smart phone (or middle school education phone as I like to say) instead of a truly smart phone. My new phone has number buttons that I can feel but it still allows me to get online when I so choose. I talked about my new phone decision with my counselor, friends, family members, and God and finally settled upon another middle school education phone because I didn’t want a smart phone to take over my life or finances. Once receiving my new phone, I prayed that God would bless the phone and allow me to use it for many years, ministering to people along the way.

I’m not good with major decisions. I don’t want to make a wrong decision (although I realize that every decision, in some way, in some time, can work for good). I don’t want to waste money, get stuck with something I’ll regret, choose something that’s not a good fit, or get stuck in a situation from which I cannot get out.

But…I didn’t really hesitate today when making a decision about my placement with CPE. In addition to working at the hospital, I’ll be working at a long-term, palliative care facility. When I shadowed the on-call chaplain last Thursday (and came home asking what I’d gotten myself into), I didn’t feel drawn to a particular section of the hospital. When my interviewing supervisor mentioned the long-term care facility in my initial interview, however, I did feel a sense of curiosity about the placement. And so…it’s what I chose.

Did I enjoy going to the nursing home when I was a GA or in youth group? No.
Do I still have an aversion to strong smells? Yes.
Do I still feel sadness when I see bodies wasting away? Yes.
Do I still feel, in most ways, totally uncomfortable about what I’ll be doing? Yes.

Yet…as is the case with CPE in general…I feel in my gut that I’m doing the right thing—or at least what will be good for me at this point in my life—as challenging as it will be.

As a friend recently told me, “CPE thrives on anxiety.”

So…I’m going to pray that God will bless the anxiety and the placement and allow me to use them both to minister to many people along the way.

What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

I stopped by the hospital to shadow the on-call chaplain today. While there, I filled out some paperwork that included pages of questions to which I answered “no.” Had the questionnaire read like this, however, then my answers would have all been “yes”:

• Has sensitivity to strong smells.
• Gets squeamish around blood and other bodily fluids.
• Has trouble reading maps.
• Gets lost easily.
• Has trouble memorizing acronyms and profession related language and jargon.
• Struggles with issues of death and dying, especially as they relate to children and/or impact friends and family members of the deceased.
• Feels deep sadness for senior adults whose bodies are withering away.
• Has boundary issues.
• Fears dying alone.

If you know me well, then you know that I often thank God for not calling me into the medical field. There is no part of me that has ever desired to be a doctor, nurse, physician’s assistant, office worker, or anything else in the medical field.

Yet…I find myself on the brink of beginning an internship at a hospital where I will be surrounded by all of the things that I fear the most.

I keep asking myself, “What have I gotten myself into?”

I started re-reading My Utmost For His Highest on January 1st. I read it while in college and recently had a quiet desire to revisit its pages.

On day one, I read, “But before we choose to follow God’s will, a crisis must develop in our lives…God brings us to the place where God asks us to be our utmost for him and we begin to debate. God then providentially produces a crisis where we have to decide—for or against. That moment becomes a great crossroads in our lives.”

On day two, I read, “‘He went out, not knowing where he was going (Hebrews 11:8).’ Have you ever ‘gone out’ in this way? If so, there is no logical answer possible when anyone asked you what you are doing…You don’t know what you are doing to do. The only thing you know is that God knows what God is doing.”

Thank you, Oswald Chambers, for writing those lines for me in 1935.

So…what have I gotten myself into? I’ve gotten myself into God.

And I’ve answered these questions with a resounding yes:

• Loves God.
• Loves People.
• Is ready and willing to do the work…even if it means jumping off a cliff into a sea of the unknown…medical field.