Thursday, July 24, 2008

From the mouths of babes

Tonight I found my son playing in the media room at my sisters house singing into a video game microphone. The song of choice? Jesus Loves Me. His rendition, however, is better....

Jesus loves me, dis I know
Before dat Bible telled me so
I da one to him belong, dis I know
Yes Jesus Loves Me
Yes Jesus Loves Me
Da Bible telled me so

Oh the wisdom of little children :)

Unaware

The day following my daughter’s c-section I found my self itching to begin moving and walking to start down the path of recovery so I could go home with my new baby girl. I took my first walk about 12 hours after surgery, from the bed to the bathroom. Not that impressive. An hour later I walked to the nurse’s station and back. By the next morning I was doing laps around the postpartum wing and itching to go further, specifically to the children’s wing to see the incredible wall murals that I had heard so much about from the nurses. Late in the afternoon, the day after surgery, I began to get restless and decided to venture beyond the postpartum wing, with my husband and baby in tow (in a rolling bassinet per the nurses). We walked and talked, stopping only long enough to allow me to catch my breath and breathe through post labor pains. Thinking back I vaguely remember this odd clicking sound every time we walked past the hallway from the postpartum wing to the children’s wing and by the third time we had passed the foyer it occurred to me how strange it was that I heard the clicking at the same place over and over again. I mentioned it to my husband and he said it sounded like the door to the stairwell wasn’t sealed very well and was creaking from the change in pressure between wings as we opened doors. I never gave it another thought.

Later that night as we walked around the children’s wing we decided to venture further into the hospital into the labor and delivery wing and as we wheeled my daughter down the hallway I began to notice the clicking sound more and more until suddenly a woman came bursting out of a room behind us and yelled, “STOP RIGHT THERE!”. My husband and I froze, turned to see the woman and she rushed towards us barking, “What is your name? Let me see your id bracelet!” I held out my wrist, puzzled and she immediately grabbed my daughter and unwrapped her revealing a large ankle bracelet with a sensor on it and held it up to my bracelet to compare. We looked at her with complete confusion as she wrapped the baby back up and ordered me to return to my room. I asked her if something was wrong and she told me that we had been setting off alarms all over the hospital and they couldn’t figure out who was “stealing” my baby. You see, apparently that itsy bitsy little sensor on my daughters leg was SHUTTING DOWN ELEVATORS, locking stairwell exits and setting off a blaring alarm in the infant nursery. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, I was not allowed to leave the postpartum wing with my daughter until discharge. Oops.

I think sometimes we aren’t aware of the ways in which others see us, whether or not their interpretation of our behavior is accurate. As I reflect back on the work that our leadership team (elders and ministers) has been doing in the past few weeks I find myself wondering what the congregation sees in our leadership team. What can we learn from their observations of us as a team? How accurate are their observations? What role are we playing in accuracy of those observations?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Surgery

It has been nine weeks since the birth of my new baby girl and as I reflect back on the past two months I keep thinking back to our time in the hospital. Because of circumstances from my son’s birth, we knew well before my daughter was born that I would be having another c-section. I’ve heard from other c-section mommies that recovery gets easier and easier after each surgery because the mommies know what to do to aid their bodies in healing. I am specifically thinking about the push that nurses make to get patients moving and walking mere hours after undergoing pretty intensive surgery. With my son I fought the nurses; with my daughter I knew that getting active quickly was the key to a speedy and less painful recovery.

There is nothing easy about surgery. It is invasive, it is painful, inconvenient, and it leaves you vulnerable and tired. Often, though, surgery is necessary for improving quality of life and/or repairing damage.

The past few weeks, the Elders and Ministers of our church have been engaging in some much needed team building exercises. It seems as though each time we meet the exercises become more invasive, more painful, more inconvenient, and afterwards I find myself vulnerable and tired. But, each time we meet I am better acquainted with what will be required of me and what I can do to speed the process and improve the quality of our time together. As we are progressing through each difficult session I am amazed as I watch walls breaking down, wrongs being righted, and friendships, authentic friendships, being forged. Every time we meet it is difficult and challenging but the need for healing is lessening and our strength as a team is building. Much like the surgery I underwent nine weeks ago, the blessing that comes from these invasive procedures is new life, new life as brothers and sisters, new life as team members, and new life as workers for the kingdom.

Praise God for new beginnings.