So many roles with so many duties…no matter what I always feel I come up short and have not done enough.
“You can’t save the world Shelly” I hear my mother in law’s loving advice echo in my mind many times. When she would say them to me time and again after any talks we had at her breakfast table with TV in the corner going on while we talked…I would think , “ok Mom but I see you doing the same things….”
She was definitely the matriarch and the glue. Financial manager of her family, relational director, advisor though in my years as her daughter-in-law this was not a role she offered, but almost gave begrudgingly despite my earnest desire to hear her words of wisdom. As wise as she was she probably developed this tactic after many times when offered wisdom was not wanted or appreciated. So she decided in her later years not to meddle.
Oh, Mom were you here even now you would still have to say those words to me, but you would be met instead of silent arguments in my mind because out of respect I would never say them out loud to Mary Lou Huckaby…but yes Mom you were right. I cannot save the world. It is not my job. It’s been done already, only some don’t see it.
As the world is saved it is also being saved and yet to be saved and I too am not capable or worthy of such a trait. I would be more likely to wield Excalibur or Mjölnir. I can’t save the world Jesus did.
But what is it in me that always feels the need to strive, achieve, mend, health , fix , repair , make better….
It is part of my makeup and helps me fill all the roles listed above well, but I must in doing my part I must remember this:
I have limits. It is OK , we all have limits. I cannot DO everything or BE everything to everyone or anyone.I must do my best. What happens is I get caught up in all that needs doing and I get overwhelmed and I shut down at times and do nothing or I go into some hyper-force energetic hill charge to take on the mountain of tasks with determination, vim and vigor only to find about 40% up the mountain that my expectations were not realistic…but this realization only comes after feeling defeated, unworthy, and frustrated. Then I either have a mini pity party and get back up and charge again or I spend a few hours just doing nothing, stuck in neutral before I realize that mountain isn’t going to climb itself you know. There are hills to charge that are intended for me to climb, but my greatest challenge is sorting out what is mine and what is not….
Because of Your (the Lord’s) compassion You did not abandon them in the desert.
Nehemiah 9:19
You know what is beautiful about this verse?-unconditional love. The Israelites had rebelled against God because he did not rescue them in the manner and timing which they wanted. They grew weary in the desert, lost faith and disrespected God. They failed, but God never fails. Even in their rebellion, they were not forsaken.
It was a definite hill and valley day. The transitions between were rapid causing the roller coaster ride feeling- the adrenaline and excitement of the high and deep pitted nausea with the sudden dips.
This morning as I pulled into work I heard my email notification on my phone. After parking I glanced down and noticed there was an email from the publisher to whom I had submitted some of my work back in April.
Anxiously, I read the email which informed me the 3 short stories and 4 poems I had submitted were all accepted for publication in an upcoming anthology. I was thrilled! This propels me forward as a writer and closer to a major life goal.
Elated, but with much to do I dove into work with another full schedule of patients due to COVID.
Later that morning, I would have a meeting with the interdisciplinary team at Dad’s skilled nursing facility to get an update on his progess. I was hoping not only to learn of his progess, but to get insight into how long they think he will remain in their care. We still had to figure out where he would be discharged and in order to plan for that knowing his medical needs was crucial.
During the meeting I learned Dad’s mobility and functional status with updates from physical and speech therapy. Unfortunately, however, I did not get any light shed on an estimated discharge day. They essentially repeated insurance dictates how long they will pay based upon his skilled nursing need and once they choose to discontinue coverage we have three days. 3 days! That is not enough time to plan anything like this.
My siblings and I had not reached a decision because we did not know what care Dad would need, what all of our options were, the cost of each option, the resources available, and we were also balancing all of our other life demands. This is uncharted waters. Yes, I am a healthcare provider, however, I don’t deal with insurance or financial aspects (thank God). I just take care of people. So as the eldest sibling I would lead the charge and yet the reality was I was fumbling blindly in the dark through a room none of us wanted to be in, especially Dad.
My stomach was as if I had circus monkeys wrecking a tent. It was a quick drop to a low spot on this ride. My head spinning, I had to clutch onto reason. I knew the harsh reality is we needed a discharge plan ASAP. I did not know where to begin. In the valley of uncertainty, fear, and deep concern for my father I was overwhelmed by the weight of it all. I wanted to scream, cry, run and hide all at the same time.
I pressed on.
The theme of my 3 short stories that I submitted were this: God’s provision in an unexpected family tragedy, God’s mercy and grace has no boundaries, God’s presence and love reflected in caregiving. Those stories are inspired by events of my life 6 years ago and greater. I have run through those stories over and over since submitting them. As an aspiring author, one hopes to have work that not only reaches an audience, but to also know their work is really good enough to have an impact and meaning. So as I currently recalled each story in the back and forth thoughts in my mind, I decided to stay there for a minute. In the space where the themes of these stories lived in my mind I remembered the family tragedy and God making his presence undeniably known through each step. I dwelt on God’s provision, mercy, and grace illustrated in each of these works. There that is where I needed to rest my mind for just a bit.
Reminded of God’s faithfulness and renewed with resolve I pushed on. Now the new challenge is navigating uncharted waters of finding long term care for Dad because of his limitations after the stroke leaves him requiring complex medical care and constant supervision. His needs are great. Our financial resources are limited. But I press on with hope because of our loving, merciful, all powerful, and infinitely resourceful God. I also hang on with hope to the truth that as much we love Daddy, God loves him even more.
I am your God and will take care of you until you are old and your hair is gray. I made you and will care for you; I will give you help and rescue you.
Mind on rewind And fast forward Most times Inclined To define The decline Of my story line Want to refine How I opine But never malign The Divine Design Of the vine That entwined His bloodline And mine Now I’m Free to shine – sillypoeticnurse 💌
Composed Saturday June 13 in my Dad’s hospital room as I sat at his bedside.
Everything fell to pieces when my eyes met yours in that hospital gown….
Joy Invincible, Switchfoot
My cousin died last week. Today we will have a memorial for him. I woke up a week ago to a phone call to learn of the tragic accident. He was only 36. He was deaf. The world was challenging for him. His parents did everything they could to help overcome the obstacles that is impairment caused. Most importantly he was and is given unconditional love.
Today we will celebrate Brandon’s life as we navigate the rough waters of grief.
I am writing in a hospital right now. My dad is the patient. He had a stroke yesterday. He was supposed to be riding with one of his sisters to his nephew’s memorial.
Dad had a spell last Friday. He is insulin dependent diabetic and thought it was related to that. His sister who lives out of state is in town visiting him. She felt it may have been a ministroke. Dad was not sure but he refused to be driven to hospital or to allow EMS to be called. He recovered the next day so he really thought it was his blood sugar. We know now that was not the case. His spell happened the same day of Brandon’s accident.
After work yesterday my brother and I decided to head to the beach with our children. His youngest had never been to the beach. It has been a long emotional week and we anticipated that today would be even more so. So we loaded up and took an impromptu trip to the beach. We decided taking the kids to do something fun would provide a much needed moment of joy. We hoped it would help renew us as we braced for the next day.
On the way to the beach another call came in notifying me that my dad had collapsed at home and had left side weakness. He was taken to ER. The events unfolding would reveal what I as Family Nurse Practitioner knew to be true , Dad indeed had a stroke. We were almost at the beach. Dad had his sister with him. We were trying to decide to continue or turn around. We drove on as there was much undetermined that would take time. It was late afternoon almost evening and we were not far from our destination.
The remainder of the trip would include calls and texts to siblings and other family members. We learned Dad would be transferred to the closest stroke center hospital and we were waiting on that. We also learned once he arrived, due to COVID, visiting hours would already have passed and despite the situation we could not see him until the following morning at 6 am. We approached the sea wall and let the kids unload. I looked out upon the ocean and cried out to the Maker of this vast expanse of sea. “Lord, help Daddy!” “Lord, help us!”
Galveston Beach- Seawall
We had calls and texts back and forth. I had to tell my husband who was home and did not join the trip because he had a work deadline. After discussing everything he said, ” I know it is hard, Shelly, but try to enjoy the beach.” I had been wanting to go to the beach for a while. My niece, Lindsay had never been and despite all the unfolding events her childlike joy and optimism could not be contained as she had her first experience with standing in the ocean waves holding her daddy’s hands. “EPIC!” she exclaimed. Yes indeed the ocean is epic because its maker is amazing.
My daughter found her epic moment by sitting on her towel and pulling out her guitar. As she listened to the ocean waves she strummed and sang. I realized she was okay. The nephews were with their dad. My niece was building her very first sand castle and her mom was nearby watching her and calling the nurse at the hospital. I walked into the ocean.
I let the waves crash into my body. All of the chaos, the fears, the pain, the grief, the worries, I stood there until the sound of the waves and feel of the wind and smell of the salt forced them to all to be muted. Anytime I visit the ocean the song Saltwater Heart by Switfchoot always plays in my mind. So in that moment of solitude standing in the ocean after my initial cry to God, my mind played……
When I’m on your shore again
I can feel the ocean
I can feel your open arms
That pure emotion
I’m finally free again
Like my own explosion
When I’m on your shore again
I can feel the ocean
– Saltwater Heart, Switchfoot
As I was standing there consumed by the waves and the song in my mental juke box my brother Louis came near. I shared with him I always think of that song anytime I am at the ocean. Louis smiled. He is the one that turned me on to Switchfoot’s music and I knew he “got it.” He moved deeper into the ocean with his eldest as I stood relatively alone again. I prayed and then I resigned myself to this summation, ‘Okay Abba, help my Daddy.’
We finished the day with some joyful moments of sand castles, wave jumping, listening to my daughter play guitar and just standing in the ocean and letting the waves wash over us. It was tranquil. It was joyful. It was a beautiful interlude that the Maker of this ocean and our souls knew we would need.
Now I look at my Daddy here in this hospital gown. Unable to use part of his body due to the stroke with much uncertain in the future. In a few moments I will drive to the funeral home where my brother, Louis who is a pastor and is officiating the service will try to offer words of comfort and peace as we memorialize my cousin, Brandon.
Hallelujah nevertheless, was the song the pain couldn’t destroy
Hallelujah nevertheless, You’re my joy invincible
Joy invincible, joy
Tears were in my eyes when the phone rings
If only life didn’t need us to be this brave
But we don’t live in the world of if only’s
Stretched tight in between our birth and our graves
The main garden bed in front of my home has been in a poor state for some time. The soil has eroded. Weeds have sprung up. Leftover roots from a bush that had been transplanted because it was not suitable to grow so close to the house as it could threaten the foundation had sprung new branches. Our busied lives and other distractions led us to neglect this garden bed.
Sure, I would dabble here and there at times to make sure the weeds hadn’t fully overgrown. However, due to long period of neglect it was going to require much time and effort to return my garden to a right state.
Today’s weather proved perfect for the task. (We can get serious heat and humidity in these parts.) I had some free time, so I decided it was well overdue and set to work. As I was digging up roots, pulling weeds and spreading out the new top layer I contemplated how my own spiritual life can mirror this garden.
Stabbing Windmills 