Happy World Hospice and Palliative Care day

I believe in and am proud to dedicate my life to this...

Because I don't think 18 million people in the world should die in pain and distress each year (WHPCA)

Because I matter...

And so do 7.63 billion others. 

(And, I LOVE everything about this video!)

World Palliative Care Day

I love being a nurse! Since I was a small girl I wanted to be a nurse (one in Africa actually, but I didn't know what I was asking for at the time!). I don't mind in our American culture when the first question asked is, "What do you do?" I feel proud every time I get to say, "I'm a nurse." I didn't always like being a nurse, though. When I first graduated from university and got my first job I spent many days thinking, "I went through all of that (years of school--I took the long route) to do this? I hate it!" Thankfully that was just a season of preparation and I would soon find the area of nursing that I love. At that time, I didn't have a clue that I would one day be where I am, doing nursing, as I am.

October 13, 2018, is World Hospice and Palliative Care day. My heart really wants to celebrate this day because of how the philosophy of palliative care has formed my life. And even more, I love the idea of celebrating this day because of the theme for this year, "BECAUSE I MATTER"! I love that, because, that's my goal in life-- to help those who who may not know it--"THEY MATTER!" I love being among those who haven't heard since they were wee, that they matter. And, I love that no matter where in the world I will ever live, I can always do this work. In America, we need to continue to integrate palliative care into our most advanced health care institutions, here in Mozambique every chronically ill patient needs, and deserves, palliative care. No matter where I find myself in the world, there will always be people in need of palliative care. There is little that makes me happier than being able to be that faithful person that returns to patient's houses every week. I love hearing that Sena greeting, "Kwetcha (We meet again)!" Through these long, faithful visits, sometimes for years, I have been able to see people go from not understanding their value, to a place of being able to say, "I matter." Sometimes we're the only people in their lives that treat them as if they matter.

Do you know what else? I LOVE that here, in central, rural Mozambique, there are 3 young woman who live and breathe the phrase "There is never nothing that we can do." Living in Mozambique it can be easy to look at the medical side of life and shrug your shoulders saying, "there's nothing we can do." But, here we believe, that there is always something we can do. I feel so blessed that sometimes what that means is we have the opportunity to give someone an audio Bible. Through this, they always have something to distract them. They never feel alone and are always able to hear the word and hope of God (in their first language). Sometimes what we can do is simply hold a hand and pray or sing together. Sometimes it's giving pain medication, sometimes it calling a family meeting. Sometimes it's talking about HARD issues. There is always something that can be done, simply because I believe "I matter" (and so do you).

As I and others around the world celebrate, World Palliative Care day and especially the theme "Because I matter", I urge you to do something in this honor. If someone you love is sick, or if you've walked along someone in need of hospice or palliative care, do something special to honor this important philosophy and value of life. We all matter and there's no better way to spend your time and days than helping someone who needs to know they matter! Hold a hand, dry a tear, push for better pain management or ask someone to help you. Or simply reinforce to someone that you care and, they matter! We matter! And, the world deserves to have equal treatment, there should be no short straws for being born in one country over another. We ALL MATTER and we ALL DESERVE equal, quality health care-- addressing physical, spiritual, emotional and psychological care! BECAUSE I MATTER!

***

So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. Genesis 1:27

I am your Creator. You were in my care even before you were born. Isaiah 44:2a

let's keep running

At the beginning of this year, I needed to gain control of a few things in life. One of them was to put an end to my nearly 10 year hiatus from running. This wasn't a choice that I ever made, to stop the sport when I moved to Africa, but I find it super embarrassing that I need to intentionally force myself out to door to get exercise. Nearly everyone around me is doing intense physical activity nearly every minute of every day (hauling water, fetching firewood, washing clothes, all super strenuous-- which I could never manually do!). I get that it's even more ridiculous to then do NO form of exercise but that's how it went, a battle for my time and an insecurity of my safety and pride. It's just now, after my husband's vision, and a lot of hard work and hoes clearing a path, (yes, someone else did massive amount of manual labor so I can force my body to be pushed into so some sort of health and fitness. Also, embarrassing.)  in order for me to be able to get out and run a few miles each week. I'm not 21 any more, let's just make that clear! The point of the story comes now....

I've always prided myself in my running. Always wanting to be good and so much better. I hate to walk even when I'm out of shape and old(er). But man, it just hasn't come back like it use to. So, I've humbled myself to the point that I may never win an award for the sport again. Ever. In. My. Life. So, I now, occasionally, run and walk. Recently, I was winded and walking and up ahead were my 2 girls, exploring something near my path. And, the moment they saw me, they both started cheering, "Mommy! Mommy! You can do it Mom! YEAH!" And that's all it took, I no longer needed to walk, their little voices gave me the desire, encouragement and strength to keep running and to push a little harder. I smiled again (smiling and running often don't go together for me) and whizzed passed them (okay, that's a stretch!). I trodded past them, is probably more accurate.

As I continued through the banana trees and past the pineapples I thought-- "even this, my weak, tired steps makes my girls proud." They don't care that I was walking. They wouldn't care if I finished last in every race I ever ran. I know they'd be there cheering me on. If only for their love for me, they stand proudly by me and encourage me in anything I do.

I then thought, "Is that the same way my heavenly Father feels about me?" Right now, when I don't feel I'm adequate. I don't know if I can keep doing all I'm doing. I don't feel like I am worthy to home-school my children. I don't feel loved, appreciated or noticed in much that I do. But, is He up ahead just cheering me on? Even when I'm staggering and out of breath, barely getting one foot in front of the other He's there cheering me on as if I'm the only one in the race? He's there encouraging me as if I'll surely take home the gold? Yes, I suppose that is how He really feels. He's ALWAYS there, thinking I'm the best and so darn proud of me. That encourages my heart. That makes me feel faster and noticed.

That makes me grateful that I have 2 kids teaching me the Gospel.

I'm going to keep running-- the many races I find myself in. It doesn't matter who's coming up from behind. I am good enough and strong enough and He's so proud chanting, "Dara! You can do it!" Let's keep running.

a day for weeping

Today marks 4 months since the message came in. The battle was over, my dear friend entered into her glory and she no longer had to suffer. Four long months. It feels like a life-time since I got to have that life-giving conversation with that friend that "got" my life. She "got it" here, she "got it" there. She worked hard to still be close when  7 time zones separated us. She worked hard to understand what I face daily. She made time in her busy schedule to have me be part of that busy schedule. No wonder the hole in my heart feels gaping. 

There was a moment in the last 4 months when I was able to attend to my grief. In talking to a friend she said, "your dear friend was such a part of you that perhaps something within you died when she did." Oh, how that resonated with me. It put a finger on what I had been feeling. The gaping pain I feel in my heart persists and it's only occasional that life is quiet enough for me to attend to it. And, when I do, it feels that only then, the healing can start to happen. It seems I've been walking around with this wound festering, and the longer I do, the more infected it has become. And while it seems that I should be okay, as I juggle many hats, it's just too easy to dance around not addressing the hole in my heart. And today, on the 4 month anniversary, the wound is stinging and oozing. It feels good to let the tears fall. Like saline cleaning the wound with the hope that I'll walk strong again one day. That even though there will always be a gap in my life without her, I'll continue to grow and be strong again, with the love and support of many others around me. 

Today it just feels good to cry and listen to "Remember When" and "It is Well with my Soul." Dear friend, I weep for you. 

reviving the ramblings

(A long winded, muddle of emotion and muck...possibly making no sense at all but bringing a deep breath to my soul.)

Ya, it's true. I haven't written on here for greater than 6 months. It makes me sad too.  It hurts that I see there's a Christmas message I never posted. Partially because the conclusion of it never came. Partial because it felt like I couldn't be 100% real and if I can't do that, I don't feel authentic enough to be.

I guess seasons change. Sometimes life is harder than others. Much time I can gloat about this wonderful life I'm living. Sometimes it feels so hard I don't know how I ever ended up here. It hurts that the biggest distraction of my life has had to be a social media secret to protect our family and the future of it. That makes it hard to be true.

During these last 6 months we've hosted visitors, we celebrated birthdays  and other days. My patients on the palliative care program have come and gone (and shoot, I haven't kept up on the tributes I promised). We've started homeschooling 2 eager children. I've planted flowers that have come and died. I've planted them again. Life trucks on and you find what you need to do to keep trucking with it or risk being lost in your bed looking for a Narnia door under your covers.
I've found other things that I love to do that have provided some refreshment that I desperately needed.

And now, as I sit to "revitalize" my blog my words are all muddled and my heart is all twisty. There's a part of me that just wants to cry and cry for hours, there's another part that wants to stand tall with all the strength that I can must and sing out "Whatever my lot thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well, with my soul." There's another part that wants to crumble on to the floor and say "but it isn't." There's a part of me that has so much hope and excitement for the future that I don't want to go to bed tonight but then there's that other part that knows what every morning feels like -- I don't want to get out of bed.

You see, my best friend died 3 weeks ago. Thankfully I was able to return for her service and time with friends and family. It was as beautiful and wonderful and necessary and healing and worshipful and absolutely amazing as I could ever have dreamed it could be. But, in addition to all that "hard" it doesn't take into account the jetlag and the nauseous feeling it brings. Or, that you leave your family behind and run to catch flights and maneuver around 115# of luggage on your own because you don't get to go to Target every week. Or, what it feels like to see REALLY special people (like Mom's and Dad's, Sisters and families, friends and nieces and nephews and Trevors) for a few minutes just to scratch that surface of "how are you" without time to hear the response. Or, if you had time to hear the response the context is so different I can hardly get to the point of understanding that I'd like to obtain. And then you come home and many are sick and the poor still live just there and you wonder yet again, "how was I just there" in the blizzard and sushi, and now I'm here. How do these coexist and how was it that I found my place in it all?

While this may sound like complaining or a cry for help. It's not meant to. It's meant to say "Wow! We live in a confusing world. Where your healthiest best friend can get cancer and die and your kids also lost their mom's and you find yourself in the middle of it and you want to help but sometimes you wonder if your helping hurts and sometimes it's so easy to lift your arms and praise God and sometimes you just bawl when you hear "It is Well" because she believed it and you want to but you only want to with her at your side. And sometimes you can't believe how lucky you are in the life that you get to live and sometimes you just want to be a normal cafe barista and not know the difference." But, in the end, what I think I come to is this, don't waste it. Don't do anything to get by, do what you do to make a difference and do something that's worth it, no matter what. With all that I feel and have felt, I'm still SO GRATEFUL to sit right here, staring at these make-shift curtains dreamed up from someone else's rags. I feel so lucky to have hard questions to wrestle and deep pain to seek healing for. Because when I can actually clear my head of my dramatic emotions I do believe with every ounce of me, and I know she would say and is saying over me, in the end (and even now), IT IS WELL, IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL!

Tribute: tough love

This is a tribute I wrote many months ago but never posted. It was one of the hardest lives and deaths I dealt with in my hospice years of nursing...


Dear Mano,
After visiting you for nearly 2 years, walking through the thick and thin, of course we ache after your death. More than anything we hope that when we were "hard" on you, when we were frustrated with your decisions, when I yelled at you in anger, I pray you knew it was out of love. Tough love hurts. And, when we saw you making decisions that hurt others, it hurt us. And after your death, we saw the aches and our hearts ached. We loved you despite, because, who are we to judge your brokenness?What you needed most was love. I hope you felt loved, to the end. To the last breath. And, in those moments, I pray that you knew His love, his forgiving love of reconciliation and new life. Yes, this is what I pray.  You left behind beautiful children and we'll always stand to testify that you loved them. That, we know for sure. Tough love hurts but it was out of love. I promise.
Forever loved,
your team