Teach me to number my days............

Teach me to number my days so that I will apply my heart unto wisdom. Psalm 90:12

     This morning, the woods are alive with birds singing their songs. The skies, a leaden gray have dampened the ground with the dews of heaven, a light summer rain, a respite from the weeks of hot, dry weather. I am joying in my day off attempting to hold at bay the thousands things beckoning at me to do, or to get done. As I age, I don’t notice the diminishing of my spirit to create, to work, or to begin projects, but I do notice a lessening of my strength to accomplish the tasks.


      The verse, “Teach us to number our days so we may apply our hearts unto wisdom” echoes in my mind. As I drive to work, I often thank God for being able to still see the trees. I also pray and speak out the fact I don’t know if I have a moment, an hour, a week, a month or years left of my life. It (the number of my days) is in His hands.

      Recently two of the men I work with, both younger than I, have gone through heart surgery. One had a stroke, and the other a heart attack. I got to visit one friend yesterday in his hospital room, weakened, still in early recovery from his surgery, myself and another of his co-workers tried to comfort and encourage him. We prayed for him and asked God to strengthen him and his beloved wife. Two days earlier I had sat at a table next to this individual for several hours during a staff meeting. In that short time his world had radically changed.

     Presently, there is so much busyness in my world I am puzzling on how to attain a ‘heart of wisdom’ to know what are my priorities. At work, my caseload has more than doubled and the ability to give good case management concerns me. Each and every person I work with is important. My interface with each of them differs according to their needs, but in some cases, somehow finding more time to make phone calls, to connect with resources becomes an urgent necessity.

     I know God loves each of these people and I believe that I am in their life for a purpose and a reason. Certainly I understand the constraints of the treatment perimeters. Do this, share that, get this other thing done. But when all is said and done sharing the life, journey and struggles of another human being transcends all of the “to do’s”.


     Last week on one of my trips to the Oregon Coast, my dogs and I went to the mouth of the Columbia River. We hiked down to the beach during the time of a very high tide. It was the highest tide I’ve seen in years and the normally sandy stretch of beach ended in a tangle of fallen trees and branches. The dogs and sat there for a while, alone and joyed, (at least I did) in the mammoth waves crashing along the shore. They were huge waves, bigger than I’ve even seen in the decades I’ve come to that stretch of river. The dogs, on leashes, weren’t sure if these crashing waves, tossing them and me were all that safe and attempted to huddle next to me for comfort and safety. We stayed there a while until I took pity on their distress and we hiked back along the beach to where the shore bends and an inlet takes off to the right where a bay provides a sheltered cove.

     Along the River, thousands of clear jelly fish, float, or lay on the shore. This jelly fish invasion is seasonal but I have some fear of being stung and am delighted as I note that further into the bay cove we go the fewer jelly fish appear. Finally, on this hot white sandy shore I find our spot. A giant weathered log provides a beautiful place for us to sit and soak up the heat for a few moments. The water, lapping here in a peaceful way looks clean and inviting. I take the dog leashes and in we go. The dogs, surprisingly swim well and appear to enjoy the sensation of floating in the warm salt water.

     We go in and out of the water several times, them paddling along besides me, happily content to joy in the moment. Finally, we trudge out and hunker down in the hot sand, two messy, sandy dogs trying to get as close to me as they can. As I gaze out over the bay, the dunes to the right of me, the hills in the distance two people come round the corner walking the shoreline. Me, sitting here wet, with the two wet sandy dogs must have been quite a sight. The man and woman, squatted down and started talking to me and petting and talking to the dogs. Ok, they were such a sweet couple. Petting these wet, sandy dogs and talking to them and me in such kind, comforting tones. For me, it was kind of weird. They just kept talking to the three of us, myself and the two dogs in such sweet, comforting tones.  It was like, instant warm, loving kindness. Of a somewhat fanciful mind, I fleetingly wondered, “Are these angels?”  

   Finally they said goodbye and left. Their gentleness, warmth and kindness impacted me a great deal. It impressed me that this random contact, could impact me so much and it made me realize that beyond the intellect, beyond the rational reasoning, beyond the educational component, more than anything else people want to be loved. Later that week, as I met with an individual who was so sick, and so high on dope, desperately needing a bath, a life, a healing, I remembered how sweet was that gentleness shown to me and the dogs by that unknown couple. Having prayed earlier in the day for God to give me His love, His kindness, His goodness to others, I attempted to show this same kindness to the person sick, desperate and high. Soft words, kind words, comforting words, encouraging words. Words that would help engender hope for a better future, a better life.

     Later in the week, having to meet with a parent of a relapsed youth, I tried to share that same kindness, gentleness and love. These situations are so agonizing for the people already. The life and death nature of the drug use is so stark and real, being a person who cares is probably the best thing I can do. Trying to provide options for the next step, yes this is crucial but having a living human being acknowledge the pain of the situation and be gentle and kind to them in that situation I believe brings comfort.


    Those who know me realize gentleness doesn’t come easily to me. A victim of domestic violence, my being has been traumatized over the years and healing of those memories and emotions has come slowly. The intellectual piece can fall into place, but the broken places in the heart and soul heal more slowly.


    Continuing to read my Bible daily, praying, going into nature as much as I can, these things nurture my spirit. Sometimes, difficult choices have to be made. I sever ties with people who continually bring unpleasantness into my world. I distance myself. I continue to pray for them but I don’t want them to steal my joy. It comes back to establishing priorities. To be able to have my love bank so to speak, full enough to give to my clients who are in their own process of healing, I have to protect myself from people who pour negativity into my life outside of work. In my field, they call it ‘self care’. In my world I call it surviving.

    Often times in “helping professions” people get callous because there is so much continual trauma. Person after person with crisis after crisis takes a toll on the persons doing the helping. To avoid becoming the person who sees the next client as a “next!” a helper must continually nurture their own soul, spirit, mind and body. To know their own limits and to step back, set boundaries to maintain their own sanity, sanctity and spiritual health.

    In the Psalms where I often read to find comfort and encouragement a continual theme is God as a rock on which I can stand. God as a shield from the storms of life. I love these analogies and since I so often sit on the rocks of the jetties at the coast it is a symbolism to which I can relate. God is the source of my strength, my comfort, my hope, my peace, my provision, my joy and my love.

     My own day has begun and I must do a few things. I’m not sure exactly what I will do, but I know I must get busy and make a list and tackle a few things. I enjoy talking with you and hope that some of what I share resonates with your own journey. We are all each of us warriors of our own battles and as we share our burdens we can bear them together. 
    

May each of you find your own comfort, strength and joy in believing in the God of all hope. Take care and be blessed.Robin