Hope, Etc.

Over the last few weeks I've encountered several patients through my job that are in situations that just scream "hopeless". It's hard to see an end or a way out for them. My many ideas and resources have run dry, or so it seems. I've spent moments in my car, prior to these home visits trying to gather the courage to face them because it feels overwhelming, and I feel unsure of how to help.

It's those days when there are no answers. The days when efforts feel as though they have been useless because nothing has even slightly improved. The days when hearts feel like they cannot possibly break anymore than they already have. At the end of those days, I often drive home wondering whether or not I did enough, or if I am really cut out for this "helping profession" called nursing. 

And I'm reminded that I've prayed "Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours". I'm also reminded that it's not just my heart breaking. And Jesus reveals himself through these people in beautiful ways. Through all of this I'm reminded of my own brokenness. So my heart continues to break, and I battle the hopelessness, discouragement and disillusionment that tries to come hand in hand with that on those harder days.

It's in the quiet moments, where I'm still, and leave room for God to speak that I hear the words "have hope". Through Hebrews 6:18-19, I am gently reminded of the hope we have through Jesus. A sure, steadfast hope regardless of the seasons, circumstances, and the pain. I give thanks, because I can be hope-full. 

(Photo by Bethel)

Because, even when it seems hopeless, God is there. Emmanuel, God with us. God is always moving, working, and has a plan for all of our lives. The whole entire world is in his hands. God works through us and our mess, and is never overwhelmed or afraid of it. Thankfully so! And somehow he touches others' lives through our own broken ones. Hopelessness has a way of blinding us to the beautiful ways in which God is working, and lately I have been feeling a little blind. Or, maybe a lot blind. Hope helps us see the unseen, and the eternal and not just through the circumstantial lens that points to impossibilities. Because more often than not, I only see the statistics, the impossible, and forget that our ways our not his ways.

It's in these moments that I have often needed friends to remind of me of the work being done in and through my life, and be encouraged by how God is working in their own lives. It's really amazing to magnify God's goodness in each others' lives, to be encouraged, refreshed, and experience renewed hope. We need one another within the context of community. We need hope.

Therefore, encourage one another and build one another up...

1 Thessalonians 5:11 (ESV)

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

Hebrews 10:23-25 (ESV)



Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all
~ Emily Dickinson

Dignity, defined

I have been thinking a lot about dignity and what it means to provide "dignified care" to my clients as a nurse in the DTES, particularly with palliative care.

Although this has been an ongoing lesson for quite some time, this week punched me in the gut and really challenged my thinking around what this means. I'll back up a little. For the past few months I have been caring for a middle-aged guy battling Lung Cancer living in an SRO hotel (single room occupancy). The cancer is winning, and he is angry about it. Rightfully so. The pain descriptor he uses every day that I see him is "enormous", regardless of how much we increase his pain medications. It's hard to see him in pain. He chooses not to have sheets on his bed, and refuses to allow anyone to clean his room for him. The laundry continues to pile up, alongside the overflowing garbage bucket. My shoes stick to the floor a little more each day, and my heart also breaks a little more each day. Some days he lets me tidy things up a little, and other days, he doesn't. Sometimes he lets me bring him some fruit and a National Geographic to read, and other days he tells me to "F$*% off". 

I have spent the last few weeks trying to convince him to allow people to clean his room, go to hospice where he can receive 24/7 care, or just allow building staff to check on him, etc. Because, that is what makes a good palliative nurse right? That it looks good, that things are in order, the "way it should be", that pain/symptoms are managed. That someone passes away peacefully in hospice with people around them. If that happens, then I have done my job well it would seem and I can pat myself on the back.

Well, then currently I'm the worst palliative nurse, ever.
But that's the thing, it's not about me.

"Just let me do things my way" he said to me last week.
I thought I was doing that.

Busted.

I was praying about this situation, asking God how I can best provide care to this client who on the best of days is hostile, angry, and upset with us for asking how his pain is or if he wants sheets put on his bed. I felt God remind me that dignity is about honouring what people want for themselves, not what I want for them. I have also been thinking about compassion and what it is, and isn't. I'm starting to realize that perhaps it's not really compassion to be distressed with the situations I come across like this (over and over again) just because it doesn't look the way I think it should, nor is it my right that the client knows I'm struggling with their decisions or way of living. 

Dignity is about validating, honouring and respecting a person's wishes regardless of what I think would be better for them.

Don't get me wrong. It's completely normal to feel distressed and struggle with the suffering we see. It's good to be aware of these feelings, but they shouldn't dictate or motivate our actions and words. A friend recently reminded me that compassion means "suffer with" in Latin. 

I feel a complete paradigm shift in my thinking about all of this. In the last few weeks I have stopped trying to convince this client to make different decisions/change his mind about hospice, so that I can feel less distressed. I see him every day, and I ask questions about his pain and other symptoms, but our conversations are mostly about what I can do to help him get through the day, today. I make the calls to his physician about needing more pain medications, and I am just present with him because that is what he wants, even if only for a few minutes. He is fully aware of the supports and resources available to him, and our agreement now is that he will tell me if he wants any of it. I don't ask or push an agenda anymore.

A social worker recently said to me, "People often die the way they lived".

I would finish that statement with, "My job is to come alongside them and respect that".

I am not a failure because this man has no sheets on his bed or because his room is a mess. I am failing him if I don't allow him to tell me what dignity is for him. I need to allow him to tell me what he wants, instead of me telling him what he should want. I'm not being "moved with compassion" if I am just trying to get things done and in order because that's how it "should be" or that is what looks good/right according to the palliative care guidelines or, our consciences. 

This is going to be a never-ending lesson, as I know there will be other clients like this that I will walk alongside. I only hope that I can continue to love better and provide dignified care in a way that respects who they are, their decisions, and how they have lived their lives. I am humbled on a regular basis by what my clients teach me in the DTES, and this was a large piece of humble pie to chew on. In fact, I'm still working on it.

Community is a wonderful place, it is life giving; but it is also 
a place of pain because it is a place of truth and of growth: 
the revelation of our pride, our fear, and our brokenness. 

- Jean Vanier

Loving Much

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another." John 13:34 (NIV)

I like to think I am good at loving people, but the reality is that I'm not. I'm very human and I make a lot of mistakes and don't "keep my love on" very well as Danny Silk talks about in his book titled just that. Sidenote: I'd highly recommend that book. Check it out here. 

Recently, I met a new client in my home care nursing job who was too intoxicated to talk to me the first handful of times I tried to visit him and do my initial visit and assessment. I had doubts about whether or not this would be successful, and admittedly caught myself passing a bit of judgement while thinking these thoughts. The third time I went to visit him was at a time he had decided would work best for him, and he even asked me to write him a reminder. I arrived at the appointed time to find him passed out, covered in his own vomit, stool, and coughing up blood. I stood there almost feeling unable to breathe between the smell of the room and my heart breaking for this man.

I called an ambulance for him, and a few weeks later he was discharged home. I went back to see him, unsure of how it would go. Much to my surprise, he remembered me, and was surprised to see me. "Why did you come back?" he said, a little sheepishly. I said, "Because I believe in lots of chances." The guy seemed even more surprised at this response, and then apologized in such a wholehearted way for how he had treated me at previous visits. I also apologized. It was a beautiful moment.

After this visit, I felt God remind me that that his heart for us as our Father.
That he is the giver of many chances. That he continually stops for the one, you and I, and forgives and loves us regardless of what we have or have not done. 

I have been reading in Luke 7 about the sinful woman who anointed Jesus' feet with perfume. Jesus' response to the pharisee in this story was "Therefore, I tell you, her many sins are forgiven -- as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little" (verse 47).

God has really been speaking to me through this verse in my own struggle with sin, and being able to forgive myself, and receive his forgiveness. He also spoke to me about receiving his unconditional love and acceptance, and reminded me that yes, I have been forgiven much, but I can love much because of it. We are all that woman with the alabaster jar of perfume, with a lot of love to give.

Reflections on Lent

This year I decided to commit to reading Journey to the Cross as part of Lent, which is a 40-day season of preparation and repentance as we anticipate the death and resurrection of Jesus. During this time we may fast (various foods, TV, shopping, Facebook, negative attitudes...etc), and aim to understand the significance of the crucifixion in a deeper way through meditation, reflection, repentance, prayer, worship...

During the Lent season we give up and take up. This year I felt to give up/fast desserts & sugar. I also felt to give up having constant access to Facebook/social media because I find myself checking it quite frequently throughout the day when I'm bored, and I tend to waste a lot of time on there. The Facebook app is now deleted off my iPhone (perhaps permanently?), and I am working on checking it only once or twice a day.

So, what am I taking up?

I am taking up reading the Journey of the Cross daily, and spending more time reading the Word, praying, and being with God. I find this really hard amidst the distractions, the pulls, and pressures that come with each day. I find it hard not to reply to a text I receive because I hear my phone go off as I'm reading my Bible or listening to a message. Or I suddenly need to do my banking, or fold my laundry, right now. Everything but focusing on God comes easy for me at times. This is something that really should be a lifestyle for me as a Christian, and is something I desire amidst the busy-ness of life that so often gets in the way of that.

The Lord has been whispering to me, "Megan, be still".

The laundry can wait. The texting can wait. The dishes can wait. Be still.

Sit at Jesus' feet like Mary did (John 12, Luke 10).

So, I'm taking up having this time with the Lord being un-distracted. This means putting my phone in another room, or shutting off my computer, because who else is worthy of my undivided attention & devotion but God our Father? Who else deserves full access to me except him?

What joy is set before us as we prepare for Easter, as we walk through the wilderness or desert where God is with us even when it doesn't feel that way.

It's not too late to give up, take up, and enter into this season as Easter approaches.

May we desire and come "to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings" (Philippians 3:10) through the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2).

India

It's been a while since I last wrote... Quite honestly, part of me wanted to give up on blogging all together. Part of me still had/has ideas whirling around in my head that have become partially written posts that I just couldn't finish or post. I have various drafts on further ramblings thoughts on gentrification, as well as community. I came to the realization that I just couldn't post about anything else until I shared some thoughts on my trip to India.

Since coming home from India at the end of November, I feel as though I've been in a season of transition, adjustment, culture shock, and re-integration while trying to have a "grid" for what I saw and experienced amidst coming home to the "same old". I'm not sure how to make sense of feeling so different and changed, yet feeling as though little changed at home. It feels almost ridiculous to still be struggling, as I've been home for several months now. But, here I am writing this even though I'm unsure I have the words to adequately describe any of it.

My trip was so much more than just touring India. I experienced India in one of the most beautiful ways possible, and it left it's mark on me. I think it's safe to say I left some of my heart there.

I spent a total of six weeks there, completely immersed in the culture. Some of this time was spent volunteering as nurse with the Anugrah program in Dehradun (N. India). The rest of the time was spent travelling with my friends who have family there. Their family and friends became my family. During the trip I was picked up at airports, accompanied on trains, and cared for by people I had just met. Instantly I felt at home in completely foreign places. I felt known. I felt loved in ways I haven't felt loved through the incredible hospitality that was poured out. There aren't words to describe Indian hospitality, truly! I spent so little time with each person I met, yet such deep friendships were formed. God really does weave us together as his sons and daughters, regardless of cultural differences, language barriers or ocean waters and land masses that separate us. Instead of just "seeing" India, I experienced it fully in a very relational, life-changing way.

I didn't expect to cry each time I said goodbye to my new Indian family and friends, but I did. I have never experienced such sorrow in my heart with goodbyes at the possibility of not seeing people again, or feeling uncertain of when the next time will be, and the longing that accompanies these emotions. God used and is using those moments to draw me deeper into himself and to understand myself in him more fully. That heartache is less but still present, some days worse than others. At times people feel close, thanks to email, Skype and Facebook. However, there are times when these friends could not feel further away and the longing to be present with them is overwhelming. There are days when India feels like an amazing dream that never happened.

India changed me in ways I am not sure I can describe yet. Perhaps I will never be able to describe it. As I've been processing my trip and "learning" to live life here again, feeling different and changed somehow, a friend said she was reminded of the story of Jacob wrestling with God. She encouraged me to seek revelation from God in this story, as she felt I could possibly relate to it. Jacob wrestled with God, and in that fight, encountered him in a powerful way. He walked away changed in many ways, including physically, as he was hurt in the process and limped after. While in India I experienced God, his love, family and community in ways that have a left a "limp" in my heart. I saw things that have not left me the same as I was. I'm learning what it means to live now, feeling changed, and being okay with it. I'm adjusting to the limp. God doesn't want me to revert back to the way I was and and the way I lived. I was changed for a reason, even though it feels hard and does not make a whole lot of sense. 

My trip to India was such a blessing, and when I say frequently that I miss it, I really do. I am not wishing to re-live the past, but am working through a process. A process that I can't fully describe or explain well, clearly ;) When I came home there was a profound loneliness amidst the culture shock and re-integration period I entered into. There is also a longing in my heart to see people whom I love there, who became family and tangibly showed me God's love. I am so thankful for the experience I had in India, for the blessing it was, and for each person I met along the way. I am thankful for the ways I encountered God there, even though it hurts a little now. I am also thankful that God is in this process, walking with me and holding my heart that has a bit of a limp now.

Community & Co-Housing

Today I ate lunch in the lunch room at work, for the first time in months. Lately I've been one of the desk-eaters... the ones who just keep working and put food into their mouths when they have a spare second between phone calls, charting, home visits, and the various crises that occur on a regular basis. But today was different. I decided to sit down, eat lunch without my computer, and read the newspaper.

The front page immediately caught my eye as it had a headline about a new Co-Housing development in the Kensington-Cedar Cottage area of Vancouver.

You can read the full article here, but the Cole's Notes version is that a development proposal for Co-Housing has been put forward which hopes to build a 31 residential condominium building that would contain individual/separate condos with their own amenities but large common areas for cooking, eating together, laundry, offices, etc. They talk to a few people interested in this type of lifestyle, who express a desire to know their neighbours, to share life together.

What I read in between the lines: People are longing for community. People are realizing they need each other. People want to be known and know others. And it's people in VANCOUVER wanting this. A place that is one of the "most liveable cities" in the world, yet many people feel isolated and alone and pursue an individualistic lifestyle. I'm not trying to generalize. This obviously doesn't apply to everyone and all of Vancouver. But it's been my prayer that isolation, loneliness, despair would lift and that people would realize their need for God and community. I am encouraged by this article because it's showing that people are longing for community in some way, even if they can't fully articulate it and may not even be fully conscious of this need or desire.

I feel strongly in my Spirit that one of the keys for the Gospel to spread in Vancouver, for people to encounter God and his love is in the context of community. I have felt this for a while, and have the joy of seeing it happen in our own small group that meets every few weeks, as well as in our own home where we are embracing community living. God is on really on the move within small groups/community groups. He is using communities, however they may look, in a powerful way. In ways, I can't even comprehend or fully imagine.

It reminds me of Acts 2:46-48 where they met daily together to break bread, to eat together, and to Praise God while enjoying one another's company and favour. And daily people were being saved! This is how they did church for hundreds of years.

"The fullness of Christ will not come without Christians standing with each other in love."

- Francis Frangipane, The Three Battlegrounds

Let's live this. 

That's my heart right now.

..... And hey, what if half of the owners of this new Co-Housing development were Christians?