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Posts Tagged ‘God’

Vesper Light

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on June 20, 2011| Leave a Comment »

It was hard to say goodbye, even though the person had suffered from cancer and death assured the physical pain was over. I had questions about the suffering, wondering why it had to be this way and if there had been anything else that could have been done, the feeling of having no control very frustrating.

With a mind full of doubts and second guessing at the end of the day, I went out to the back deck. I sat on the deck swing, facing west, watching the sunset on this late Spring evening. The humidity was low, the temperature comfortable, and the neighborhood was quiet. I took several deep breaths, trying to clear my mind.

As I became still, I could hear the soft peeps from the new batch of baby sparrows in the birdhouse on the south side of the porch. The parents’ were faithfully bringing food fifteen hours after they had started at the sunrise. A starling family was out on the back lawn, the mother teaching the youngster how to forage his own bugs and worms. She kept bending and picking up bugs; he’d try but didn’t seem to get the coordination yet. The younger bird would get impatient, and then squawk for food from his mother. She would oblige, placing a bug in his opened beak. I laughed at the amusing sight: the baby was the same size as his mother!

They were joined by a mother cottontail rabbit and her baby, who took up residence off to the side, nibbling on the clover in the lawn. The baby rabbit was adorable – its ears were the size of the tip of my pinky finger, its head barely seen over the grass.

The sun continued to get lower, until it disappeared and sent soft pink arms of color stretching over the sky.

As the sun melted into the horizon, doubts did also. A sense of peace came over me; in the quiet scenes before me I saw a gentle reminder that God is here, in the ordinary, and He has it all under control.

            O Gracious Light   Phos hilaron 

            O gracious Light,

            pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,

            O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!

 

            Now as we come to the setting of the sun,

            and our eyes behold the vesper light,

            we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

 

            You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,

            O Son of God, O Giver of life,

            and to be glorified through all the worlds

                  – From the 1979 Book of Common Prayer

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Seeing God in the Osprey

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on May 25, 2011| Leave a Comment »

It was Flying Lesson Day for the Osprey at the Bayard Cutting Arboretum. The noisy calls from high up in the air caught my attention as I walked through the gardens. I looked up to see the father, gently soaring near the nest as two of the chicks flew near him.

The bright blue sky dotted with wispy clouds provided a perfect backdrop for the majestic sight of the flying raptors: the father’s six foot wingspan allowed him to slowly circle the shorter-winged offspring as they made their own tight flight patterns within his. As they flew, he called out to the chicks, perhaps with encouragement or instructions, and they called back to him.

The large nest of sticks was high up in the weeping beech tree. Perched on the edge of the nest was the third chick, squawking, with its mother standing behind, gently encouraging it to try.

Youngest chick was having none of it.

The father and two flying chicks continued to call to each other, the father with encouraging squawks, and the chicks in a high-pitched peep as if to say “We’re Flying! Look at me!”

The mother stayed in the nest with the youngest chick, encouraging, first with only squawks. She then tried opening her wings behind the reluctant one, as if to push it off the nest, but the chick clung fast. It wasn’t yet ready to fly.

For half an hour, I along with other onlookers, watched and waited. Wanting to witness the first takeoff, I willed the chick to take the leap of faith. Youngest chick wouldn’t go.

Tired, the flying chicks returned to the nest with the father, noisily peeping as if to share the excitement of their adventure with their mother and their youngest sibling.

Tomorrow was another day, and the youngest chick would be offered another opportunity to fly. It would have the loving encouragement of its parents, who understood enough to let the chick go at its own pace.

It was a Seeing God in the Ordinary moment. Sometimes I’m like that reluctant chick, perched at the edge of the nest, afraid. Yet God is nearby, gently calling and encouraging, knowing I can do it, yet allowing me the time to gain enough courage and trust to take that leap of faith.

… Do not fear, only believe. Mark 5:36

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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God in the Pediatric Unit

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on May 21, 2011| Leave a Comment »

The elevator doors open to the Pediatric Floor. A dozen teenagers joyfully poured out, arms loaded with stuffed animals, coloring books, crayons, and small toys. They were excited about the mission work their Youth Group was doing on their day off from school: they would be visiting the sick kids here at the local hospital.

The Head Nurse met them in the corridor, gave the ground rules, then paired the teens off and sent them to specific rooms.

Two of the girls were sent to Ashley’s room, where they found six-year-old Ashley lying in bed, her parents sitting by her side in orange chairs.

The teens bubbled with their greeting. Ashley gave them a grave look and didn’t reply.

In an effort to explain her mom said, “Ashley’s having her tonsils out tomorrow, and she’s scared. She hasn’t smiled in days.”

The teens responded with wonderful compassion and understanding: Both of them shared that they, too, had their own tonsils taken out. One of the girls opened her mouth for Ashley to look inside. They told Ashley about their own experiences before and the recovery after the surgery. Ashley perked up when she heard she’d be able have all the jello she wanted. Ashley had many questions, which the girls answered patiently and honestly.

The teens gently smiled at Ashley, then handed her a stuffed teddy bear, coloring book and crayons. Ashley gave the girls a bright smile back as she squeezed the bear tightly. She gave each girl a hug before they cheerfully headed to the next room.

A God in the Ordinary moment: The teens saw Christ in Ashley, and in turn Ashley saw Christ in them.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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The Magician

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 18, 2011| Leave a Comment »

Little Jimmy was full of energy, with no place to put it. The waiting room was crowded, the News station on the television didn’t hold his attention, and he had finished playing with all the toys his mother had brought.

We knew his name was Jimmy because his mother had called him that, several dozen times, in the past ten minutes: “Jimmy, please sit down”, “Jimmy, let’s read a story”, “Jimmy, leave that alone!”, “Jimmy, SIT DOWN!” She was quiet now, lips pursed, seething and almost at the end of her rope. Jimmy was still bouncing on the carpet in front of her.

A married couple in their mid-twenties came in during one of these “Jimmy…” episodes, and sat in the chairs opposite Jimmy and his mom. They were holding hands; the pre-op hospital bracelet on the woman’s wrist told that she was here for her pre-operation physical.

Jimmy wore a hospital bracelet, too, but with his energy level you’d never know he was sick. With a new audience in front of him he showed off how his airplane could take off, holding it high and zooming in circles, loudly making engine noises.

The people in the waiting room smiled at the distraction. Jimmy’s mother gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head.

Catching Jimmy’s eye, the young husband removed his wedding band, tossed it in the air, caught it, and then opened his hand to show that the ring had disappeared.

Jimmy stood still, wide-eyed.

The Magician made motions to sprinkle magic dust over his wife’s head, and then proceeded to take his ring from his wife’s ear.

“Do it again!!!” Jimmy said excitedly.

And the Magician did, over and over, for fifteen minutes, until Jimmy and his mom were called into the office for Jimmy’s exam. As they walked to the exam room, Jimmy’s mom mouthed “Thank You”. Jimmy and the Magician exchanged high fives, and then Jimmy bounced all to way to the exam room.

It was a God in the Ordinary moment: the young couple spotting Christ  in this rambunctious little boy, and he responding to Christ in them.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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God in a Toddler

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on May 15, 2011| Leave a Comment »

I had just received a call at home asking me to take on a new project. It involved taking a risk and was way out of my comfort zone. I had told the caller I’d pray about it. When we completed talking, I put the portable phone back in its cradle, finished my tea, then took the mug to the sink.

While washing out the mug I remembered a time when Mike was 2 ½ years old, and Kathy was 11 months old. We were at the local playground. Kathy was watching as her brother zipped down the orange tube slide. It was at a steep angle; Mike would enter at the top, disappear for a moment, and then come flying out the bottom and land in the gravel on his feet. Kathy was really excited and laughed every time he popped out of the tube. She couldn’t walk yet; I was holding her as she watched Mike.

Kathy indicated to me that she, too, wanted to go down the slide. I placed her on the platform where the top of the slide was. She crawled to the tube, then slid belly down, head first to the bottom, and flew out laughing as I ran around to the bottom of the slide and caught her as she flew out.  We did this again and again, taking turns with Mike, for almost an hour.

Upon reflection, I realized Kathy was displaying the innocence of a child, joyfully throwing herself down the slide, fully expecting the loving arms of a parent to catch her. A time of God in the Ordinary: God in the little child, showing me how I should be with Him. Ready to fully trust, take a chance and risk, go for it, and know He will be there to catch me.

Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it. Mark 10:15

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Dandelions

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 14, 2011| Leave a Comment »

The bright laughter of the children running around the grassy fields in the park drew Dorothy to a nearby bench. She put her grocery bag on the park bench, and then wearily sat down next to it. She had to admit, she didn’t want to go home to an empty house yet. There was too much light left in the day, and it was lonely at home. Her husband and children were gone; there was only so much company a television could give.

She was new to this town, and had met only a few people. What surprised her was that although she had passed dozens of people on the sidewalk from her home to the store, no one had made eye contact with her, or answered her “hello” or “good morning”.

The behavior of the people continued at the supermarket, even to the clerk who ignored her “Hello”, mechanically rang up and bagged her groceries, took her money, and not once look at her.

Dorothy had to admit that the indifference had hurt.

Turning her attention to the children, she smiled as she watched the kids as they noisily played their game of tag. A group of kids were picking dandelions, running back and forth to their mothers with the bright flowers.

One little boy spontaneously left the group and ran up the little hill toward her. Stopping in front of her, he smiled, and then quickly handed her the bunch of flowers in his little fist.  The Dorothy smiled back and thanked him as he turned and ran back down the hill, to continue his gathering of dandelions. It was a God in the Ordinary occasion: the boy had seen Christ in her, and she in him.

Renewing warmth filled Dorothy as she watched him fly back down the hill. She looked at the bunch of dandelions in her hands, and thought this was the most beautiful bouquet she had received in a long time.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Seventy Year Partners

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on May 10, 2011| 3 Comments »

The screen door to the porch of the house at the Bayard Cutting Arboretum opened. Richard carefully led his wife Margaret down the ramp, gently holding her up with his left arm. They made their way to one of the plastic tables along the railing, and Richard helped Margaret get into one of the chairs facing the Connetquot River. He then quickly went back inside to get their lunch.

Sitting two tables down from them at my own table, eating my lunch and doing homework, I saw Richard return to their table carrying a tray of sandwiches and tall cups of lemonade. His cap told me he had served on a ship during World War II.

Returning to the table, he sat next to his patiently waiting wife. He then removed the paper from a straw, poked it through the cover on the lemonade, and held it to his wife’s lips as she sipped. A slight nod from her indicated she had enough, and he put the cup down. Breaking a piece off the sandwich, he helped her put it into her mouth, encouraging her to chew carefully. He continued to do this until she shook her head for “no more”. He helped her take another sip from her cup. Richard then put a straw into his cup, took a long drink on this extra warm day, and ate half his sandwich.

All the while as Margaret sipped and ate, Richard kept up a steady conversation, pointing out the kayaks and swans on the water, the geese on the lawn, and the osprey swooping in the sky above. When she wasn’t sipping or chewing, Margaret had a serene smile on her face. As Richard ate his lunch, Margaret continued to look out at the River, still smiling.

It was time for me to leave, and I packed up my notebook and textbook into my backpack. I smiled at the couple as I was walking past.

“Did you enjoy your writing?” Richard asked me. I indicated that yes, I had, and commented on his cap. The conversation continued as he proudly shared that he and Margaret had known each other since 1938, when he was at MIT and she was attending Simmons College. Margaret smiled. Richard repeated twice that it was Margaret who helped him through MIT’s program, the War, and how she took care of him and their children. He shared that Margaret has always loved coming to the Arboretum, and they have lunch there at least once a week, even though she’s been sick. We conversed a little more, then I said goodbye to each of them and headed across the lawns and gardens to the car.

As I walked, I realized how Christ was in each of those beautiful people, who had gone through over 70 years of life together. Richard had made it a point to make sure that others saw Margaret not as a handicapped person, but as a child of God, who was loved and valued by Him.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Emily’s Gift

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on April 28, 2011| 1 Comment »

The Mom lugged the overflowing basket of dirty clothes through the family room on her way to the washing machine, sidestepping through the obstacle course made up of toys.

Her bare foot found the Barbie shoe minefield left by her daughter. She yelped in pain, jumped forward, and stepped squarely on the Lego blocks left on the floor by her son. Frustrated and in pain, she dropped the laundry basket, pushed a bunch of toys off the couch and sat down, rubbing her feet.

She looked around the room and thought “This clutter is unbelievable! The kids don’t even play with half these toys anymore!” She yelled for the kids to come down from their rooms to the family room.

The tone of the Mom’s voice had the kids running. Nine year old Emily came in first, her younger brother right behind her. Both looked worried.

Spotting the kids, the Mom took a deep breath, and then said, “Look, kids. This room has gotten out of hand. We are overflowing with toys in here – and you don’t even play with half of them! We have another holiday coming up, and people will be bringing you even more toys! We don’t have any room for anymore!”

She reached for a bulletin received from the church on Sunday. Showing it to the kids, she continued. “There’s a Toy Collection at the Church. I want you kids to go through the toys in this room, and decide which toys you’d like to give to a child who doesn’t have any at all.”

“Okay, Mom” the kids sheepishly replied.

The Mom continued on her way to the washing machine in the laundry room. When she came back through the Family Room, the kids were going through the toys. The Mom told the kids, “I’ll be in the Kitchen, getting lunch ready. You can bring the toys in there to show me what you’d like to donate.”

A little while later, Emily came into the kitchen with an armful of toys. “These are the toys I’d like to give for the collection” she said. One of them took the Mom by complete surprise: Emily’s favorite doll. Flashes of Emily playing with the doll everyday, the tea parties and adventures in the backyard filled the Mom’s mind.

“Emily, that’s your favorite doll!” exclaimed Mom, “You don’t have to give that away!”

With wisdom beyond her years, Emily responded determinedly, “I loved her while she was mine, and I know another little girl will love her.”

Tears of pride in her eyes, the Mom hugged Emily.

Author’s Note: A special Thank You to Emily (and her Mom!) for allowing me to tell her story.

 © Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Sunrise at Captree State Park

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on April 25, 2011| 1 Comment »

… And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. Matthew 28:20

It was predawn as I parked the car at the Captree State Park Boat Basin. A few of the charter boats were showing activity already: Captains and crews were quietly making their early morning preparations for the day’s fishing excursions. The rumble of a single boat engine broke the silence

I zipped my jacket up all the way against the chill of the air. The soft orange color of the dock lights lit my way as I walked out onto the fishing pier.

My morning adventure was actually an assignment: I was instructed to go watch a sunrise, to take no distractions with me so I could focus and experience all that happened as the sun rose.

I looked around at the predawn sky: the moon was still holding court, stars twinkling gently. Settling in at a spot halfway down the fishing pier, I turned so I was facing the Robert Moses Lighthouse. Predictably, the light flashed every seven seconds, keeping a rhythm to what I was about to see.

The color of the sky behind the lighthouse was slowly changing. Deep gray when I arrived, it slowly changed into an array of color: deep purple, then turned to purple, then deep pink. I saw clouds appear in the light; they seemed to be trying to pull the sun up from below the horizon like horses would pull a chariot. The color of the bay water went from a charcoal black color to gray, then to silver.

As it got lighter, the sea gulls woke up. Starting at the end of what I call  Gull Island, the end nearest to the emerging sun, a lone gull cry went out, as if sounding the morning alarm clock. The sleeping gulls near the crying gull woke up, and sounded their own cry. In turn, the wakeup calls continued down the island, until there was a loud chorus of sea gulls, squawking, calling out.

In wonder, I looked all around me. The bridge was now visible in the first light, and everything had a soft look to it. I listened to the early cries of the gulls, felt the cool of the early morning on my cheeks. I looked back to the sky behind the lighthouse. Deep pink turned to pink. The pastel colored clouds became more visible, and they stretched horizontally in both directions like loving arms, embracing all I saw.

The edge of the clouds became brighter, lit by the sun still not yet visible. The fiery edges of the clouds grew, and then the sun appeared on the horizon. It was a magnificent arrival of the day.

The sunrise was like a symphony, orchestrated by God; it was a powerful display of His glory and of His love for the world.

On days when I wonder where Christ is, I remember the sunrise, and am reassured that He’s with me. And always will be.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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Seeing God in an Alzheimer’s Patient

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on April 20, 2011| 4 Comments »

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 1 Corinthians 1:18

The strange sounds coming from the hospital room caught my attention. The rhythm of the noises sounded like talking, but not in a language I was familiar with.

It was my volunteer day, and I was on my way down the hall to see if patients needed anything.

When I walked into the room, I saw an elderly woman in the bed, a blanket pulled up partway over her thin nightgown. Her arms were flailing and she was “talking”. In chairs at the foot of the bed sat her equally elderly husband, and their thirty-something granddaughter. 

The granddaughter returned my smile and “Hello”.  The grandfather gave a quick “Hello”, and then returned his worried gaze back to his wife, his hands nervously clutching each other.  Love and concern for his wife showed in his eyes. I saw God in the grandfather as he looked at his wife. 

“Grandma has Alzheimer’s”, the granddaughter said with a gentle smile while looking at her grandmother. “She her own language. She knows what she’s saying but the rest of us haven’t figured it out yet!”

The grandmother let out a few more sentences, arms moving for emphasis. 

“Grandma was just brought here from the nursing home for treatment, and the move’s made her agitated.” The granddaughter looked at her grandfather. “And Grandpa’s very concerned. He lives at home with us.” 

We spoke for a little while, and the grandmother calmed down. Declining my offer to get fresh ice water for her grandmother, the granddaughter asked me if instead I’d sit with her grandmother while she took her frail grandfather to the Men’s room. I agreed. 

She stood up, then gently leaned over and helped her grandfather to stand. He continued to use her arm for support as they carefully made their way out the door together, then moved slowly down the hallway. The devotion of the granddaughter to her grandparents was wonderful – I saw God in her that day. 

The activity triggered more talking from the grandmother, this time without the arm movements. I pulled up one of the chairs closer to the grandmother’s bedside, where I could sit so I could hear her and she could see me. 

“It’s okay, they’ll be right back”, I tried to reassure her. She didn’t seem to understand. She said a few words, and then looked expectantly at me. Not understanding what she had just said, and noting the hour, I started talking about the dinner that was to be soon delivered, and babbled about what could be on the menu. The grandmother didn’t seem to understand me, either. 

“Here, let me pull these covers up,” I said, reaching for the blanket which had slipped even lower. The room was chilly, and I thought she might be, too. 

As I leaned over, my cross necklace worked its way free from the collar of my shirt, and the cross hung freely in front of the face of the grandmother. The movement was noticed immediately: she stopped talking, and her eyes opened very wide. 

“Oh my God!” said the grandmother, loud and clear. She then proceeded to speak in her language, yet by the rhythm of the words I understood her to be saying the Lord’s Prayer. Incredulous and caught off guard, I didn’t know what to do at first. I came to my senses to join her at the end with an “Amen.” 

She smiled. And that was when my eyes were opened and I saw Christ in her.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

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