Ordination Celebration Part 4, Wyoming

...and still continuing with Sunday's presentation for Mike's ordination celebration of 25 years...

When Mike started feeling his work was done in Alamogordo, he heard from or about other congregations but none seemed like where he was supposed to go. THEN one evening the phone rang. I answered and it was a guy named Bob on the line. He made some comment about making "first contact" and I knew he was going to hit it off with Mike. You see, that "first contact" comment came from Star Trek and Mike was most definitely a Trekkie.

So.... on to Casper.  By that time Sam was the only one living at home. He wasn't thrilled about leaving his friends but he was brave.

We found Prince of Peace to be filled with angels!

Mike had his 50th birthday here. Some of you may remember that he was rather cruel to the ladies in this congregation who turned 50 just a few months before him.

Well, we got even as we inducted him into his own little Red Hat Society. Doesn't he look pretty?

One of the most memorable experiences here at this church so far has been the crazy idea of swapping buildings with another congregation.

What an absurd idea, to pack up our congregation and to move to such a big facility!

It was most definitely a God thing!

This photo was taken at one of the several hayrides we've enjoyed at a parishioner's family farm.

The people of the congregations are what Mike's ministry is all about... the people.  Now you will see that I found it hard to edit photos. I found quite a few of sweet people here and I just thought you all would like to see them as well...

Betty and all of us enjoying a picnic.

.   (I am omitting some of the recent photos of kids as I didn't ask permission to put them here)

And here's Renee, in her natural habitat, serving in the kitchen.

(Here I have omitted a photo of my friend, Renee...at her request.)

Mary and Diane look like they were praying but I don't think they were as I don't think I'd be rude enough to photograph during a prayer.

One of the things you may not know about Mike is that he is a photo-hog. I'm not kidding. I was wondering recently, "How many families have photos of him in their photo albumns for weddings, confirmations and such?"

Do you know how hard it is to take a photo of Susanne? This may not be a great photo but it sure captures her spirit. She is always, always working for this church.

The amazing thing is, she has been the only secretary Mike has worked with here and they've worked together for 10 years! That may not seem so unbelievable to you all but consider this... during his 9 years in Alamogordo, Mike went through 9 secretaries! Thank you, Susanne, for putting up with him as he is obviously quite difficult to work with.

Here you have witnessed Mike developing as a grandfather. It has been fun to see "Pastor Grandpa" in motion here.

Mike has had the joy of baptizing our two granddaughters into this congregation.

We've enjoyed a lot of years of Christmas Caroling here, and felt warmed by the parties that followed.

One thing about Mike, he's always so serious about his work...

a pastor does a LOT of teaching.  Here he is teaching the fine art of office golfing with his shepherd's staff...

This is Mike in his favorite fabric... denim.

Mike's parishioners are always so excited to come to church!

I don't know WHAT to say about this photo...

...Or this one...

So... Mike,

For delivering 1500+ sermons, 

for welcoming so many into God's family, 

for braving confirmation students, 

for inspiring preschoolers, 

for caring for the sick, 

lonely and wounded, 

for preparing so many couples for marriage, 

for praying with the dying, 

for comforting the grieving, 

for counseling the hurting, 

for showing God's love to the lonely, 

for sacrificing your days off over and over, 

for being on call around the clock, 

for sharing your strength and insight, 

for your gentle but dependable leadership, 

for sharing your quirky sense of humor 

and for your steady example of letting God guide the way...

We, your flock, say "Thank you".

Death Can Bring Out the Best or the Worst in People

One thing I've learned as a hospice nurse is that the death and dying process can bring out the best or the worst in family members.  It is part of our job to educate and comfort family members as well as the patients.  We teach them what to expect, what symptoms may develop, how we will help them and things like that.  Sometimes we have to help family members understand each other.

There are times when family members cause a patient more pain and suffering than their disease process causes.  Two adult children arguing over a parent's possessions, while the parent is still present, is a heart-breaking event.  In some cases there may be one family member who has been the caretaker for the patient for months or even years,  only to be criticized by another who shows up near the end.  There are times when a hospice nurse has to guide people to being their best version of themselves.  Sometimes a hospice nurse has to remind people that they have the choice to forgive or hold on to their anger.  These are not things I expected in nursing, but I find satisfaction in the effort.

More often than not, though, I see examples of remarkable sacrifices and acts of love.  I encounter people who guide me to be a better version of myself.  I see spouses spending all day, every day, at the bedside of their loved one.  I peeked in to check on a patient this week to find her in her bed asleep, with her spouse in a chair pulled up close to her bed.  They were holding hands.  They were both asleep.  Is that not sweet?

I've seen adult children who do everything they can to keep their parent as healthy and happy as long as possible.  I've seen them sacrifice of their own time to care for them when they could not care for themselves.  I've often heard statements along the lines of "I will do whatever needs done."  Sometimes "whatever needs done" can be tasks that are not so very pleasant, tasks that are humbling for both patient and caretaker.  I hear family members telling me how remarkable their loved one was and why they would do anything for them.  I love that.

These are the things I'm thinking about today.  Thanks for "listening".

My Life as a Travel Agent

On a recent morning I was at work and as one of my patients was waiting for his death, I thought again about an idea that keeps popping into my head... the thought that I am now some sort of a travel agent, someone who's main job is to assist travelers as they prepare for a big, big trip.

My patient, thanks to good medications, was reaching a level of comfort.  He knew it was almost time for his departure.  His daughter was by his side.  She wasn't going with him but she wanted to wait with him until it was time for him to go.  She was sad because she knew she was going to miss him, but she was happy for him because she knew he was going somewhere very lovely and exciting.  Although she couldn't travel with him at this time, she expected to join him at a later date.  

Together, they waited and waited and waited.  It reminded me of a train station.  I don't think in terms of the grim reaper or anything like that.  I was thinking of an elegant train that was coming and he was the only passenger at our station who was waiting to board at that time.  The station seemed pretty empty to me, but our traveler reported there were "a lot of people" present.  Just because I did not see them does not mean they were not there.

Although this traveler was originally reluctant to make this trip, as the train approached, he was ready.  In fact, I think maybe his mother was already on that train, coming to escort him to his destination.  I think this because he thought he saw her; he was watching for her.

His daughter left the room for a few minutes.  It wasn't long before I saw the train coming, I could hear it, I could see it, I could almost feel the ground trembling... almost.  I stepped away from our traveler for just a few moments to summon her so she could hug him good-bye.   I knew it was important to her to be present when he climbed aboard.  I could see pain in her eyes but she smiled as she approached him and held his hand.  She did not try to stop him from going.  Her husband joined her for the send-off and they were ready to say good-bye.  When they reassured me they were prepared, I quietly left their side.

When I returned, the train was just pulling out from the station.  The traveler's daughter was crying and smiling at the same time.  Her husband held her close.  It was quiet.  It was peaceful.  We all felt we'd just been very close to something amazing, something we could not yet fully understand.  

A Night at Hospice

I worked the night shift last night.  You'd think a 12 1/2 hour shift would seem to take forever but most of the time it just flies by.  Although it can be pretty hectic, the pace is usually not frantic, at least not for the entire shift.  

Sometimes it is still hard for me to get used to this kind of nursing.  I love that we can have time to have a cup of tea with a patient or sit with a family member when they are having a hard time.  To me, it is an opportunity to give the kind of nursing care we all want to give.  We have time to try to give care to the whole person, not just treat their illness.  

The part that still startles me, though, is when I realize how differently we approach changes in a patient's condition.  In most types of nursing, if a patient takes a turn for the worse, we call the doctor or if you are at a clinic, maybe even 911.  In hospice nursing, in most cases anyway, we just increase the comfort care and gently prepare the patient and family for the approaching transition.  Usually they've had time to learn what to expect and they know we can offer relief from pain and anxiety.  Instead of an air of panic and chaos, we try to exude calm confidence.   

Many patients are glad when they notice the dying process is progressing.  Recently, when I told a woman I did not think she was going to die that night she looked at me long and hard and said, "Well, I hope you are wrong!"  She feels she has waited too long already.  She's ready.  It's just not quite her turn yet.