Sunday, December 8, 2013

Trust

I am not a great writer. Or a great thinker. Maybe not a great "anything." But I'm good at a few things. Baking. Taking care of my kids. I even think I'm a pretty good Occupational Therapist. But I'm not very good at change. And I get frustrated very easily when things don't go like I think they should (which, of course, changes never happen when and how we think they should...).
Well, big changes are happening for me in 2014. In case you haven't heard yet, I am leaving the clinic to pursue a teaching career. Starting January 6, I will be an Assistant Professor of Occupational Therapy at the University of Indianapolis. (Read my last post about feeling like I'm jumping off a cliff... that was 3 days after my interview). This has all come up rather unexpectedly, by invitation, and about 2 years sooner than I thought it would happen. But it is something I have been working toward, thinking about, and yes, praying for, for a number of years now.
So, the one word I have chosen for 2014 is TRUST. I have not been a great "truster" in the past three years. I have been a bit off-balance in my faith walk ever since taking the job at Balance Point (pardon the pun). But God has been ever working, behind the scenes, to make me into the person he needs me to be.
So I am trusting. I am re-learning how to be a person of faith. I am hopeful, and grateful, and looking forward to the future. And that is a better place than I have been in for a long time.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Transitions

Whew! I somehow got locked out of my blog for about 6 weeks. No idea how. But I think maybe it was for the best, as I have been far, far too busy to think about posting anything. Pretty much, I have been far, far too busy to think in general. Life has been moving pretty fast. I completed the grad school assignments finishing my 7th out of 15 course requirements on my journey from my Masters degree to my clinical Doctorate degree. As part of that, I had two presentations, one to a community group and one to occupational therapists at the state conference. I have also been confronted with a number of situations convincing me that life just keeps going forward, and you can't go back. With all the craziness of the last 3 years, I have been contemplating how to reclaim who I am - retain the essence of who I was intended to be, hang on to a shred of my faith, stay true to the things I want to be and do... all while continuing to grow, and stretch, and live life with joy as I continue to become the person God intended me to be. I am about to become an empty nester again, as our daughter is about to move out; and I can see the winds of change in my career, and it looks less like a transition and more like a jump off a cliff, hoping there's a safety net or a deep pool of water or SOMETHING to catch me.
I took a walk about a week ago, at sunset, and it was pretty incredible the way a fall evening spoke to my soul. The moon through the bare trees and the colors of the sunset over the fall leaves left me feeling speechless and remembering that everything happens for a reason. And things happen in the right timing, even if it is not the timing I was expecting or that I would prefer. And, despite all the evil in the world and the seemingly pointless and meaningless and PAINFUL things that happen, beautiful things keep happening too. Hope keeps coming through in the most unexpected places. Like, between bare trees and through darkening skies. In patients you thought would never get better or journeys you thought would never come to an end. Like, situations that sucked all the joy out of your life suddenly being revealed for the catalyst it is that makes you get off your rear and do something different, that you never would have done, if it hadn't been for the joy-sucking experience pushing you. I know I'm being cryptic; I can't tell all, but hopefully I will be able to soon. Maybe you are stuck in a joy-less place right now. My prayer for you is that you will be able to trust and have faith, find joy where you are, and that soon you will see some transitions starting to occur, like blades of grass springing through concrete, or a beautiful moon shining through bare trees, and know that there is a reason. There is a reason. There is a reason.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Simple Living and a Cat

Ginger in her Happy Place
My son has been reminding me of how far we have gotten from our simple Christian living roots. Namely, we  recently paid to have our windows washed and to have our dead trees taken down. These are things we might have done ourselves in younger days (and when living in places where the trees and windows weren't scarily high). We still tend to be do-it-yourselfers for most maintenance, but we also are a little more willing to hire things done. It often becomes a matter of choosing between the economics of money and the economics of time. Hence, the struggling with our desire to be simple living Christians and our need to stay sane in our fast-paced world of careers and activities.

But it was our 16-year-old kitty Ginger who this week has highlighted for me the complexities of the choices we make, how (more often than not) the lines get blurred, and that our choices are rarely as clear as black-and-white. It was not her ability to relax or play when there is work to do, or to enjoy bacon although she is already portly. Though, those aspects of her personality do remind me to stop and smell the roses from time to time. Instead, it is that she is currently deathly ill and spending her second night at the vet's office in hopes of reviving her a bit to bring her home and enjoy a little more time with her. And the question of the week is, when do you stop paying to save a life? The economics of the value of the life of a cat are glaring me in the face right now. On the one hand, I love her dearly and am missing so much her begging round my feet while I fix dinner or rubbing on my ankles while I comb my hair in the morning. On the other hand, she is suffering greatly and in pain with pancreatitis, and antibiotics and IV fluids and meds have failed to improve her situation in the last 24 hours, though she at least is not worsening. And while I have shed tears over her rapid demise, I also have wondered: how much is this costing me? And how much more am I willing to spend?

Sadly, though I am asking (and have the luxury to ask) this question about a cat, many folks have to ask this question about their health care. And I'm talking about right here, with my own patients. I will often finish an evaluation and recommend a treatment plan, only to have the patient ask, how many times do I have to come back? how much will it cost me? can we stretch it out a bit or can I come less often and still get some benefit out of it? Because they are counting the dollars of their co-pay versus getting groceries or paying for gas for the week, and wondering if their last paycheck will come and if it will be enough, and when they can feel well enough to get back to work and get another paycheck. So the economics of life often get in the way of our altruistic ideas of what we would like to do to save a life, return a person to function, improve the quality of life, etc. How hard must it be for those who have to make economic decisions about the health care of a loved one? Just some more musings that are all mixed up in my contemplation tonight. Sigh.

I am having a hard time deciding what to do about my kitty - after all, I firmly believe that if you take a pet you are committed to them through thick and thin for life. I don't want to ditch on her. Nor do I want her to suffer. Nor do I want a $3000 vet bill. I don't know what the answer is. But I keep struggling forward. I want to be a simple living Christian, a good wife and mom, and a good pet owner. And I do try to make these decisions remembering grace, mercy, and love as the first rule. Just as I most assuredly need the grace and mercy of a loving God tonight.