Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘ordinary’

The Perspective Lesson

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on July 1, 2011| 2 Comments »

Why couldn’t she see things from my perspective? I asked myself as I wheeled my bicycle out of the garage this early summer morning. My daughter Kathy and I were taking different views on a particular issue, and neither one of us was budging.

I snapped on my helmet, got on my bike, and headed down the driveway. The early morning sun was streaming through the trees, just rising just over the rooftops of the houses in this suburban neighborhood. The weather wasn’t too warm yet, and the humidity was low.

My usual morning exercise bike ride route was a couple of 2 mile laps in a clockwise direction around my neighborhood. Bored with that routine, and somewhat frustrated by the disagreement, I took a deep breath of the clean morning air, and turned my bike in the opposite direction.

The usual chorus of songbirds accompanied me. The rabbits were out feeding on front lawns, the squirrels chasing each other around.

Going in this counter-clockwise direction, my eyes were drawn to a different side of the street, and I saw gardens, trees, bushes and other sites I didn’t see in my usual direction. I got fresh ideas for my own front yard, and saw some beautifully decorated porches.

During the second lap, I reflected how simply changing my direction gave me a new perspective of my neighborhood.

What if you tried to see things from Kathy’s perspective, instead of insisting she see things from yours? asked the Quiet Voice.

The question made me a little uncomfortable, because He was right. Instead of insisting on my own way, I’d try to see it from hers. A different perspective can open my eyes and mind to new ideas.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

Read Full Post »

God at the Physical Therapy Office

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on June 22, 2011| 1 Comment »

The old yellow Cadillac pulled up to the front door of the Physical Therapy Office and parked under the No Parking sign. An elderly wife got out of the driver’s seat, walked to the back of the car, and popped open the trunk. Stretching, she reached in and pulled out a folded up wheelchair. Putting the chair down on the ground, she unfolded it, and then wheeled it to the front passenger door.

It took a little while and a bit of help from the wife, but the husband was finally out of the car and seated securely in the wheelchair. The wife pushed her husband in the chair up the sidewalk ramp, and then put it in park next to the front door railing. Assuring him she’d be right back, she went into the car, started it up, and drove to a legal parking space.

The husband patiently waited in his chair for her to return. When she had walked from the parking lot back to him, they smiled at each other. She then stood next to her husband. Curious, and wondering why they weren’t moving, I looked closer and saw that the husband was slowly, carefully, moving his arm up and out so his hand could push the handicapped door opener. When he had successfully opened the door for his wife, she thanked him and then pushed his chair into the Physical Therapy Office.

© Diane L. Neuls DeBlasio 2011

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

Breakfast with a View

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on April 17, 2011| 1 Comment »

For an awesome way to start your day and get focused on Seeing God in the Ordinary,  take a picnic breakfast and watch the sunrise. This photo was taken on the Captree State Park fishing pier (The Fire Island Lighthouse is in the distance):

Sunrise Breakfast at Captree State Park

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »