Don't Throw Out The Beans

Vera was petite, soft spoken and deliberate. You could see it in her eyes. She was unhurried and she carefully evaluated facts and ideas before speaking. She seemed to respect the danger and injustice of premature evaluations and advice.
Vera was 86 years old when referred to hospice for colon cancer. Her cancer was wide-spread and the cause of her inoperable fractured hip. She was bedfast and her hospital bed was against the living room wall, immediately inside her front door. Her two daughters cared for her at home and hoped they would be able to for the duration of her illness. But they were concerned. One daughter had surgery planned and the other who lived in Arizona, was on a family medical leave from work, and her leave was running out.

Conversation was strained during my initial home visit, until we touched upon Vera’s passion, her faith in God. Vera suddenly became animated as she reminisced about her and her husband being in a gospel music group, “We played at different churches and denominations.” Her daughter added, “There’s only one church anyway.”

Vera shared about playing at a particular church: “A fellow asked us to play at his church but we heard that they didn’t believe in stringed instruments. When we got to the church the fellow who invited us wasn’t there, so we didn’t know if we should play or not. See we left our music and our instruments in the car and decided that if we were going to play they would have to ask us to. Then a lady said, ‘you come up here and feel free to sing.’ I commented to a lady a couple of seats over, ‘I didn’t think you believed in stringed instruments.’ Then another lady said, ‘we still don’t’. Regardless, we went out to the car to get our instruments and we went and played. I don’t know if it was something I did or if it was something God did, but that preacher kept perfect time with his foot. I know because I was watching him.”

Vera concluded, “You find good and bad people in every church. Don’t try to tell someone else what to do and you don’t have to ask anyone else what’s right either. You know what’s right and what’s wrong. But you can’t create your own God either. You have to go by the Bible. You know, churches can pick on other churches. You can hear it in their preaching. But if you think I’m doing something wrong, then go tell Jesus on me. But if you tell other people about me you aren’t my brother. My husband said that when you find something you don’t agree with in a church that you have to look at it like eating bean soup. If you find a rock in the soup you take it out and throw it away, but you don’t throw out the beans."

I’m not sure I agree with Vera that “You find good and bad people in every church. Because Jesus said, “No one is good but one, that is God.” (Matthew 19: 17). So guess where that leaves the rest of us, with rocks in our bean soup. But aren’t you glad that God in his mercy and grace doesn’t throw out the beans?"

“And Jesus said to them, I am the bread of life. He who comes to me shall never hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst…All that the Father gives me will come to me, and the one who comes to me, I will by no means cast out.” (John 6:35-37)

Don't Try Too Hard

This is one of the more challenging columns I’ve written. I almost aborted it at the last minute. I still struggle with knowing when to try harder and when to accept and surrender. I’m more comfortable with working than sitting. Phyllis, a 55 year old hospice patient, taught me that trying harder isn’t always what’s needed, or even wanted.

Phyllis was one of 11 children, a country girl, born and raised in Southern Ohio. Her dream was to become a surgical nurse, but brain damage sustained in an auto accident disqualified her. However, she was still able to do private duty nursing as a LPN. She lived most of her adult life in a beach house in Florida. She loved the ocean, reading and solitude.

Phyllis returned to Portsmouth to be near her family when her colon cancer reached its final stage. Her family admirably respected and guarded Phyllis’ independence and privacy. They allowed her to struggle living independently until 24-hour care became necessary. She then moved in with her mother and eventually to a local nursing home when her care became too complicated and demanding for her mother.

I believe the hospice staff had more difficulty accepting the nursing home placement and her terminal illness than Phyllis did. We brainstormed ways to maximize the quality of her life. We had a telephone installed in her room, assigned a volunteer, read to her and met with the nursing home staff weekly to devise plans. In retrospect, I think I probably exhausted, and possibly even irritated, Phyllis at times. My frantic efforts to make things better resulted in my “disturbing the peace”.

One day Phyllis was sitting in her room, in a bedside chair behind the curtained partition with the light off. She seemed depressed and I wanted to “make it better”. She said, “Loren, I’m ready to join Him. I’m ready to join Jesus. Do you know what I’ve found? I’ve found that when I just let go and lay everything in God’s hands that I find a special peace comes over me. So will you do me a favor? Don’t try too hard”.

Phyllis’ request reminds me of a Bible story (Luke 10:38-42). Jesus traveled to the small village of Bethany and was welcomed into the home of two sisters, Mary and Martha. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet listening to Him, but Martha was distracted with much serving. Angry at her sister for not helping, Martha approached Jesus and asked, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone. Therefore tell her to help me.” But Jesus replied, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled by many things. But one thing is needed and Mary has chosen that good part which will not be taken away from her.” Or, in the words of Phyllis, “Don’t try too hard”.

Martha was so focused on the work that she neglected the person. People, especially the terminally ill, want and need a friend not a servant. They don’t expect us, or even want us, to try to fix everything. They want us to be with them, where they are. So let’s slow down and focus on the “one thing” that is needful. Let’s guard against being “distracted by much serving” and let’s choose “that good part”.

We Just Started to Mold

Shirley was in her 70’s, a widow, with terminal cancer when she was admitted to our hospice program. She married at age 15 and admitted, “I got pregnant and then married, but I think you’re supposed to do it the other way around.” Shirley shared how she and her husband, during their early years of marriage, loved to dance. Shirley reflected, “My husband had to have a few beers before he would dance but I didn’t need anything. I just loved to dance. But he had to stop drinking due to health problems so we stopped dancing too. The Kids were older too so they didn’t need us much anymore. So we started watching TV and going out to eat. I really didn’t enjoy it. I was bored. We just couldn’t think of anything that we wanted to do, so we just started to mold. It became a routine and we started to fit into a mold.” Shirley looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “Loren, don’t ever let yourself start to mold”.

Shirley and I continued talking about the stages of life, how each stage presents us with respective challenges and tasks that we must master in order to progress. Shirley, with a shaky voice speculated, “This might be my last stage and I won’t be moving on to another one. I’m stuck in this stage and I can’t get out of it. I want to go back to another stage when I could dance.”

Just like Shirley, along our journeys we come to crossroads, unfamiliar places, steep dark passages, questions with no ready answers. Many people when faced with these life changes and transitions fall into depression. John Bunyan wrote a wonderful metaphor titled “Pilgrims Progress”, which depicts our spiritual stages and challenges. He wrote about how “Christian” along his pilgrimage to the “Celestial City” fell into the “Pit of Despond” (despair). Then a fellow pilgrim named “Helper” came along and asked, “What are you doing out there?” Christian replied, “I fell in! “ Helper asked, “ Why didn’t you use the steps…some good and substantial steps have been placed in this slough (stagnant swamp) by order of the Lord of Salvation, but at times this marsh spews out a lot of filth, and in times of changing weather the steps are hardly seen. Even if the steps are visible to a normal person, here a man’s head often becomes so dizzy that he cannot see the steps; then he staggers to one side and mires down in the slime. Nevertheless the steps are there.”

Shirley, in her despair sighed, “What good am I to anyone? What can I do now?” And Shirley wanted to go back to a stage when she could still dance. But there’s no going back to what used to be and the future isn’t always an extension of the past. It’s only when we turn our sighs into questions and then seek the answers that we can move forward. I believe that when Shirley starts seeking the answers to her questions she will discover that there is another stage of life to progress to. And I’ve seen some indications that she may already be on the road ahead. For she recently told me about what good biscuits and gravy she fixes and then suddenly realized, “Nobody knows how to fix my biscuits and gravy! I haven’t taught anybody how to fix them yet!”

Is this a time of “changing weather” for you? Are you in transition? If so, for God’s sake, for your sake, for your family’s sake, don’t turn back. Don’t let yourself start to mold. Look for the steps and take the road ahead. And if “Helper” shows up reach out your hand.

A Still Small Voice

Homer was referred to Hospice of Southern Ohio for lung cancer. He was born and raised in West Virginia. The best way to describe Homer is a graying Abraham Lincoln, tall, thin, hair combed straight back with sharp chiseled facial features. Years ago, Homer’s wife left him with seven minor children, which he raised on his own. He affirmed, “I’ve raised good kids” and he did. His sons recounted how he was both a father and mother and declared, “He stuck by us, so we are sticking by him.” and they did.

Homer had little formal education and was unpolished, but he was a thinking man, a deeply thinking man. One day he disclosed, “I always felt like maybe God wanted me to be a preacher. But now I can’t get anywhere to preach to anybody anyway.” He shared how he would have a cup of coffee with God in the mornings and just meditate, “Whole sermons would come to me; things I never thought of before or heard anybody else talk about. Once I wrote out a whole sermon and gave it to a preacher and he used it one Sunday.” He paused for a few seconds and then continued, “I’m convinced that God wants to speak to us more than we are wanting to listen.” He illustrated his point with a story.

Homer recounted, “About five years ago I stepped out on my front porch and God spoke to me. He told me, ‘There’s going to be a day of judgement, you better get ready.’ He told me I needed to get ready for myself and for my children’s benefit; because I didn’t have any life insurance or money to pay for a funeral. I wasn’t sick or anything, so I ignored it. Then God spoke to me again about a year later, but I ignored it again. Then, a couple of years ago, God spoke to me a third time. He again told me, ‘You better get ready’, but this time he also told me I wouldn’t live to see my 70th birthday. This time I listened. I started making payments on a vault and cemetery lot. I have them paid for but my kids will still have to make payments on my funeral. Now I am 69 and have cancer and it doesn’t look like I’m going to see 70. If only I’d listened to him the first time it would all be paid for by now. I’m convinced that God wants to speak to us much more than we want to listen.”

Homer’s story reminds me of the prophet Elijah (I Kings 17-19). I believe most of us can identify with him. One minute he’s on the mountaintop and the next minute he’s running for his life. He boldly confronted Ahab, the wickedest King of Israel. But, when King Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, threatened Elijah he ran for the border. While hiding out in the wilderness he entered a cave to sleep for the night. There God said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord. And behold the Lord passed by and a great strong wind tore into the mountains…but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.” (I Kings 19:11-13)

Homer and Elijah both discovered that God usually speaks in “a still small voice”. Perhaps He does, so that only those who are really listening will hear. Let’s have “ears to hear” and a heart to obey. Let’s learn from both Homer and Elijah, and then we won’t find ourselves saying, “If only I’d listened to Him the first time.”