Family.
Friends.
Flowers.
Food.
Faith.
And.
Freedom.
Celebrating them all.
Happy 4th of July!
And, missing things of "home".
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
willing to work on the exit
Because that day she died I realized, when he asked me, "Don't you see, this is your hospice heart? This is your passion."
After over 5 years living in this developing country and seeing the suffering, my eyes were opened, my heart awaken.
When she, swollen and hurting, lost and broken, went home and there was nothing I could do,
I wept.
I wept because I used to work in Scottsdale where no one settled for anything but the best for their ailing loved one.
At Mayo Clinic you don't do anything second best,
You do every last thing until their's satisfaction and peace.
Great peace.
Because dying is scary, but, I've seen it done well.
That midnight on-call visit I had when the wife whispered into her beloved's ear, "Go home Dear, it's okay. Go to Jesus."
That was beauty.
After the "Hooray for you" entry into the world,
It can be followed by a peaceful, "Praise to Him" heading out of the world.
It rarely happens like that here,
The entrance,
Or the exit.
But now, after the awakening within me,
And, the "public health emergency" the world is finally recognizing (BBC latest),
And, being on a continent that needs more than Tylenonl (ONE campaign article),
I, with fear and trembling, because as she said the other day, "This is going to hurt"
I willingly walk forward.
Starting to talk about palliative care and end of life in a nation where they say,
"No, I couldn't care for someone dying in my home. That would take too much courage."
I don't come with morphine,
Or a trained doctor at my side,
Or a brainy academic understanding of AIDS,
What I do come with is this,
I KNOW THE HEALER.
He who said there is "a time to be born and a time to die..."
Didn't want her to suffer as she did....I'll call her courage
I'm willing to work on the exit.
To be continued...
After over 5 years living in this developing country and seeing the suffering, my eyes were opened, my heart awaken.
When she, swollen and hurting, lost and broken, went home and there was nothing I could do,
I wept.
I wept because I used to work in Scottsdale where no one settled for anything but the best for their ailing loved one.
At Mayo Clinic you don't do anything second best,
You do every last thing until their's satisfaction and peace.
Great peace.
Because dying is scary, but, I've seen it done well.
That midnight on-call visit I had when the wife whispered into her beloved's ear, "Go home Dear, it's okay. Go to Jesus."
That was beauty.
After the "Hooray for you" entry into the world,
It can be followed by a peaceful, "Praise to Him" heading out of the world.
It rarely happens like that here,
The entrance,
Or the exit.
But now, after the awakening within me,
And, the "public health emergency" the world is finally recognizing (BBC latest),
And, being on a continent that needs more than Tylenonl (ONE campaign article),
I, with fear and trembling, because as she said the other day, "This is going to hurt"
I willingly walk forward.
Starting to talk about palliative care and end of life in a nation where they say,
"No, I couldn't care for someone dying in my home. That would take too much courage."
I don't come with morphine,
Or a trained doctor at my side,
Or a brainy academic understanding of AIDS,
What I do come with is this,
I KNOW THE HEALER.
He who said there is "a time to be born and a time to die..."
Didn't want her to suffer as she did....I'll call her courage
I'm willing to work on the exit.
To be continued...
Monday, June 16, 2014
4 years with my peanut
Four years ago today this little one ran into my heart and home....
Almost a year ago she lept into his...
Today we celebrate all the grace and miracles that our loving Father has performed to put this little family together. We are so, so grateful.
Thank you Nede for the last 4 years of joy you have brought to every person you've met, you've penetrated each heart and left a sliver of you with them. We're so blessed you're ours. Keep making the "earth be filled with an awareness of the glory of the Lord." Habakkuk 2:14
Someone once said to me, "Nede has more love to give than anyone else I've ever known." It's true.
Her love bubbles over....
Thanks for letting her enter your hearts as well!
Previous blog posts celebrating this day:
Saturday, June 14, 2014
happy father's day
I wish you could watch this amazing story unfold as closely as I have.
This father's love is astounding.
If his love is this true, what must be the love of our Heavenly Father?
I cannot comprehend.
To this dad, who shows me how to love,
and to all the other father's who point us to our Father's love,
Happy Father's Day.
Our home overflows.
xoxoxoxo
Friday, June 13, 2014
an email that touched my heart
If you've followed my blog very closely, you'll understand the significance of this....
On this Saturday, when the next days ahead feel hard and heavy, I struggled to face it. When most in need of encouragement, she wrote. She responded to my sharing how, through a blog she has touched my life. Yes, she wrote. Thank you Ann!!!!
On this Saturday, when the next days ahead feel hard and heavy, I struggled to face it. When most in need of encouragement, she wrote. She responded to my sharing how, through a blog she has touched my life. Yes, she wrote. Thank you Ann!!!!
Beautiful Dara...
Ah, friend --- that you'd write such a grace-filled, moving note -- so real and transparent? Your words and story bring tears.
Lays this sister right low and I whisper thanks to Jesus for you and yes, ma'am -- we'll keep pressing on to Jesus together.
You are so, so loved --- by Jesus and this Cross-clinging daughter...
Just -- thank you. For loving like our Lord, friend and being the gift and giving back.Ah, friend --- that you'd write such a grace-filled, moving note -- so real and transparent? Your words and story bring tears.
Lays this sister right low and I whisper thanks to Jesus for you and yes, ma'am -- we'll keep pressing on to Jesus together.
You are so, so loved --- by Jesus and this Cross-clinging daughter...
Yes! We will talk long in Heaven...
All's grace,
Ann
Friday, May 23, 2014
what's it all leading to?
"Chad, what's it all leading to?"
"I don't know Dear."
It's my first day back. I sit investigating through old, smelly, rubbish paper bits that serve as hospital receipts. I identify that this little gal, less than 2 years old, was tested with ++malaria yesterday. I look for the receipt with malaria treatment on it. Before asking I make sure I've looked at all the dingy papers. I see blood was drawn and the hemoglobin was 4 (normal should be 10 or above). I pull down the lower eye lid of this lethargic sweet pea and sure enough-- white as a ghost. Severe anemia.
I ask the mom, "Did they not give you any medicine?"
"No, nothing. They said she has low blood and if she takes tablets she'll die."
Tears roll down her cheeks.
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
Greed. Wanting bribes
and lies.
And it's a child who suffers.
We do what we can,
what we know best to do.
Return to the hospital.
Hope someone has compassion.
And keep wondering...
"What's it all leading to?"
"I don't know Dear."
It's my first day back. I sit investigating through old, smelly, rubbish paper bits that serve as hospital receipts. I identify that this little gal, less than 2 years old, was tested with ++malaria yesterday. I look for the receipt with malaria treatment on it. Before asking I make sure I've looked at all the dingy papers. I see blood was drawn and the hemoglobin was 4 (normal should be 10 or above). I pull down the lower eye lid of this lethargic sweet pea and sure enough-- white as a ghost. Severe anemia.
I ask the mom, "Did they not give you any medicine?"
"No, nothing. They said she has low blood and if she takes tablets she'll die."
Tears roll down her cheeks.
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
Greed. Wanting bribes
and lies.
And it's a child who suffers.
We do what we can,
what we know best to do.
Return to the hospital.
Hope someone has compassion.
And keep wondering...
"What's it all leading to?"
rhythm of the waves
They're consistent, never to be missed,
If you're on the seaside, they're always there.
Always.
During the storm the waves keep crashing---
showing strength, power, authority.
During the calm they're crashing still---
more gently, soothing, bringing peace, assurance, comfort.
When I close my eyes, I can be sure they're coming.
They will not fail.
When I open my eyes wide, I look over the turquoise, the vastness stretches as far as my eye can see,
I could feel tiny, engulfed by the enormity,
But I choose to be awed.
I choose to say, as sure as the waves consistently crash
So my Father's heart beats for me.
Yes! Every beat, every crash reminding me He's here.
He's in control.
He's large.
And, yes! Surely his heart beats for me.
I think, the rhythm of the waves JUST MAY BE,
The beat of my Father's heart.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
happy easter
Happy Easter from we who've been redeemed. Thank you Jesus!
Love from the Vanden Bosch's
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
most beautiful people
If People magazine were to ask me, which I know they never will, to give my opinion on the most beautiful people in the world, I've got my top 2 chosen:
Thursday, March 27, 2014
not mostly, not quite a bit...entirely
I remember it too well. The day, in the midst of drudging a heavy burden, when that subconscious thought came before I could stop it, "God I'm scared to trust you."
Immediately it sounded funny. Scared to trust God? If I'm not trusting Him, who am I trusting?
As I worked through this in my mind I realized, in this situation, if I decide to trust God 100% then I have no control. But, because I had no idea what to do in the circumstance, I realized that it was time to trust God 100%. Not 75%. Not 90%. Not 99%. 100%! Completely. Not holding on to anything. Nothing. Giving up everything that I normally try to do in my own strength.
I was scared to do it. Typically, when I let go 75% or 90% there's still that little bit of room left in there for me-- there's a little bit of me still able to do something, to try something in my own strength.
But really, was I scared to trust Him because I thought he'd mess things up? I thought he'd let me down and hurt me? Truthfully? I did think that. I thought, what if things don't turn out how I think they need to and when I want them to, that would be all wrong then and then I'd suffer.
I know! I know! My life is full of seeing God doing amazing things, things we didn't expect. My kid and husband are the obvious big ones.
Just like the Israelites who forgot God fed them manna from heaven or parted the Red sea, I also forget. Of that I am ashamed and embarrassed.
Then again, on Sunday, the Vanden Bosch's ventured out into the Bush of Moz to do an audio Bible distrubution-- to make the Word of God available to those who have never heard it for themselves, for those who can't read (I'm amazed at how the Pastors can hardly read the scriptures in their Mother-tongue-- it's almost painful for me to hear). The Bible distribution went well and was full of hope and encouragement. Then came the time in the service when people come forward to be prayed for. Of course, since we are the white visitors they'd like us to pray for the people. I gravitate to the area of the floor where the women and children are kneeling, I don't feel right to pray with the men. I start asking their names. What is their problem? Each one, something similar, "Corpo. Bessa. Tosse. Capisa", my body, congestion, cough, hot body, in dialect. As I laid my hands on their heads, some full of ringworm and fungus, some were burning up. In my nursing mind I try to start diagnosing. "Malaria, pneumonia, malaria, arthritis, malaria." Then, as I prayed, I was humbled. I was humbled to be there-- to be able to come just with my faith, the little bit that I have at times. I was reminded of the woman who was healed by just touching the edge of Jesus's gown (Mark 5:28-34). Or the time when Jesus said, "Go your faith has healed you." (Luke 17:19)
I was awed by each of these precious one's faith. They had the faith to come forward for healing. What else can they do? They're too far from a hospital. It's not likely that they get to the hospital each time they have a fever or headache. Nor is it realistic for me to bust out my nursing degree and tell them what they need to do. In that moment I knew that no matter what amount of education I had, or what initials I'm able to have behind my name, it wouldn't matter. "Go, your faith has made you well." My faith and theirs was going to make a difference today. Only that.
So, am I scared to trust him? When there's nothing I can do do I still think that holding on to something in my strength is going to make a difference?
I knew this day it didn't. So, humbly I prayed in as much faith as I could muster, that he was going to take care of these sick children. These woman who had pain, he was going to touch. And all the wounds inside that no one was mentioning to me, I prayed to God that he'd deal with those as well. Because, aren't we all broken, aren't we all in need of enough faith to trust him 100%? Not mostly, not quite a bit-- ENTIRELY!
Immediately it sounded funny. Scared to trust God? If I'm not trusting Him, who am I trusting?
As I worked through this in my mind I realized, in this situation, if I decide to trust God 100% then I have no control. But, because I had no idea what to do in the circumstance, I realized that it was time to trust God 100%. Not 75%. Not 90%. Not 99%. 100%! Completely. Not holding on to anything. Nothing. Giving up everything that I normally try to do in my own strength.
I was scared to do it. Typically, when I let go 75% or 90% there's still that little bit of room left in there for me-- there's a little bit of me still able to do something, to try something in my own strength.
But really, was I scared to trust Him because I thought he'd mess things up? I thought he'd let me down and hurt me? Truthfully? I did think that. I thought, what if things don't turn out how I think they need to and when I want them to, that would be all wrong then and then I'd suffer.
I know! I know! My life is full of seeing God doing amazing things, things we didn't expect. My kid and husband are the obvious big ones.
Just like the Israelites who forgot God fed them manna from heaven or parted the Red sea, I also forget. Of that I am ashamed and embarrassed.
Then again, on Sunday, the Vanden Bosch's ventured out into the Bush of Moz to do an audio Bible distrubution-- to make the Word of God available to those who have never heard it for themselves, for those who can't read (I'm amazed at how the Pastors can hardly read the scriptures in their Mother-tongue-- it's almost painful for me to hear). The Bible distribution went well and was full of hope and encouragement. Then came the time in the service when people come forward to be prayed for. Of course, since we are the white visitors they'd like us to pray for the people. I gravitate to the area of the floor where the women and children are kneeling, I don't feel right to pray with the men. I start asking their names. What is their problem? Each one, something similar, "Corpo. Bessa. Tosse. Capisa", my body, congestion, cough, hot body, in dialect. As I laid my hands on their heads, some full of ringworm and fungus, some were burning up. In my nursing mind I try to start diagnosing. "Malaria, pneumonia, malaria, arthritis, malaria." Then, as I prayed, I was humbled. I was humbled to be there-- to be able to come just with my faith, the little bit that I have at times. I was reminded of the woman who was healed by just touching the edge of Jesus's gown (Mark 5:28-34). Or the time when Jesus said, "Go your faith has healed you." (Luke 17:19)
I was awed by each of these precious one's faith. They had the faith to come forward for healing. What else can they do? They're too far from a hospital. It's not likely that they get to the hospital each time they have a fever or headache. Nor is it realistic for me to bust out my nursing degree and tell them what they need to do. In that moment I knew that no matter what amount of education I had, or what initials I'm able to have behind my name, it wouldn't matter. "Go, your faith has made you well." My faith and theirs was going to make a difference today. Only that.
So, am I scared to trust him? When there's nothing I can do do I still think that holding on to something in my strength is going to make a difference?
I knew this day it didn't. So, humbly I prayed in as much faith as I could muster, that he was going to take care of these sick children. These woman who had pain, he was going to touch. And all the wounds inside that no one was mentioning to me, I prayed to God that he'd deal with those as well. Because, aren't we all broken, aren't we all in need of enough faith to trust him 100%? Not mostly, not quite a bit-- ENTIRELY!
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