Take Care of Yourself: Six Ways to Avoid Caregiver Burnout

While still caring for your patient

In the middle of taking care of our loved one, we often don’t take care of ourselves.

Cancer Caregiving 101: Take Care of Yourself and Prevent Caregiver Burnout

When others offer to entertain your loved one, take time to go for a walk or relax by yourself–DON’T do housework!

“Now you must realize,” the doctor straightened the papers into the already thick folder as he finished summarizing the diagnosis, treatment protocol and prognosis, “with a best-case scenario, we’re in for a long haul. You two must take care of yourselves, too. This is not easy on parents, either, and you can’t let yourselves get run down.”

The nurse bustled into the room, loaded with scary looking objects which she unloaded in the room’s small bathroom. “So, you cannot touch this hat in the toilet, we can’t have his samples contaminated. Also, be sure you don’t let any urine touch you when you help your little guy go – because it will burn a hole in your skin.” There followed some more directions of what not to touch in the room and what not to do and what I needed to help Andrew with and what I needed to remember. As she breezed back out the door, having set these little traps all over the room, she paused in the doorway, “Mrs. Bovee, you need to remember to take care of yourself through this…this will be a long, tough road.”

After a two-week stint in the hospital with a feverish and neutropenic boy, I was home, frantically trying to

recuperate the family from separation, restore the house from chaos and prevent the laundry piles from taking over the world. As I sorted and started a load, a neighbor followed me from washing machine to dryer, not helping, but faithfully entreating me that I needed to “take care of yourself! Carol, you are just working too hard! You need to let go!”

I stumbled along beside the gurney as we returned from the spinal tap, wiping my tired eyes and unsuccessfully hiding a yawn behind my hand. The nurse, pushing a dopey Andrew, smiled sympathetically at me. “Carol, I hope you’re taking care of yourself. We see so many parents pushing so hard. You’ve got to take time out. Don’t forget you’ll need to recharge your batteries too.”

We received that advice throughout Andrew’s treatment. “You parents need to take care of yourselves too.” “Remember that you can help your boy best if you’re taking care of yourself too.” “Take some time for you!”

Great advice.
Perfect!
Ideal.
Laudable recommendations from caring souls.

“Don’t lift that boy – he’s too heavy for your back!” – OK, but he’s four, sick to his stomach, neutropenic, tired…I’m supposed to tell him he’s on his own?

“Don’t worry about the housework, take care of yourself.” – OK, but I cannot have a sick boy around dirt…is someone going to clean it for me?

“Make sure you eat regular and healthy meals!” – Ok. But the procedures are always during breakfast time, recuperation through lunch, driving through supper and falling into bed. When was I supposed to eat? And what in the world is a ‘regular time’?

The job needs to be kept, the house needs to be clean, the kids need to be loved, the meals need to be fixed, the sick one needs to be cared for – when, exactly, was I supposed to “take care of me”?

Truly, all I could concentrate on, throughout my son’s illness, was him! It wasn’t until it was too late, and I was in trouble, that I realized what I had done to myself. So the question I hear, from so many caregivers, is this:

HOW do I take care of myself, when my primary job is to take care of him/her? (tweet this)
I’m probably the last person to take advice from, as I did not necessarily do it right. On the other hand, maybe I’m a good person to listen to—I can honestly look back over my journey and say that there are things I would do no differently even if I could have known exactly what I know now. I would still give 150% to my child and my family.

However, there are some things that I wish I could go back and change, or do better:

1. Delegate the little things as much as you can: you cannot delegate the worry, no one else can carry your pain and your patient might not want you to delegate personal care. So delegate the windows being washed, the lawn getting mown, handing someone your money and your shopping list, etc. Delegate as much as you can. Sometimes that means swallowing your pride, but it might help you avoid swallowing medication later! ☺

2. Make lists. If someone offers to help – have a list ready of things they might be able to help with. If you have nothing you can think of right that moment (I remember someone offering to help while we were waiting for Andrew to come out of a procedure – nice, but not where my brain was right that moment), then write their offer down and get contact information and ask if you could call on them sometimes.

3. Ask. Don’t be afraid to call your pastor or a neighbor or a co-worker and let him/her know of a need. A lot of people think we caregivers have it all under control and don’t think to even ask if there’s a need. But many would help if they knew of a need. One person said to me, “It’s OK to allow someone else to have the blessing of helping you.” I had never thought about it that way before, and that was releasing to me.

4. Be willing to let go: sometimes, we caregivers think we need to be superman and wonder woman all rolled into one. We can’t. Or maybe, like in my case, I could for a while, but sustaining that after a while becomes impossible. Take the help that’s offered. And also let go of how that help is done. It might not measure up to your standards – but it will probably work!

5. Search out quiet moments. The days of caregiving are often busy and hectic, and when they are quiet, they can be scary. Grab moments of quiet to journal or to process some of what’s been going on. Take those moments to evaluate how you’re doing and how you’re feeling. Is it time to get some help? Do you need to find someone to talk to?

6. Expect less of yourself. This one has nothing to do with others’ helping, and everything to do with you deciding that it might be OK if you don’t get things done. Maybe you need to say no to some things you used to do. A caregiver has to re-examine priorities; and in that re-examination, one of those priorities has to be you. Your sanity, your health, your ability to keep on going.

It IS possible to take care of yourself, even while taking care of your loved one!… Click To Tweet

What ways have you found to take care of yourself?

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

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Autopilot – the mode of operation for long-term caregivers

And the God who gets us through

In times of trial, when it feels like we’re flying alone – God provides better than “autopilot” and becomes the pilot of our journey

Autopilot becomes the way we handle things flung at us as new caregivers.  Actually, who am I kidding?  It didn’t get easier just because it became longer – in fact, the longer I lived on emergency-ready, life-and-death mode, the grayer my world became.  My son was four-years-0ld when we started his cancer journey, and I was 39.  When we finished chemotherapy, he was 7 1/2  and I was 93.  My always-learning brain had turned to mush (Anita calls it chemo brain by proxy) and I literally saw through a gray haze. I functioned on autopilot – but it worked, because of Who my pilot is:  this is a poem I wrote shortly after finishing chemo and realizing I was in deep-struggle-mode.

I’m on autopilot

Feet float

From place to place

Unaware of where they’re going

Lost from where they’ve been

 

Eyes drift

Across words on a page

Reading and rereading a passage

Unable to soak it in

 

Ears buzz

Around conversations flying by

Desperately trying to pick out information

Confused by threads of thought

 

Mouth stumbles

Over pieces of a conversation

Tripping over thoughts refusing to be expressed

Incapable of coherence

 

Hands flutter

From task to task

Forgetting how to accomplish anything outside of an emergency

Helpless to proceed

 

I’m on autopilot again Lord,

Lost,

drifting,

buzzing,

stumbling,

fluttering

Autopilot

The only way I can do anything at all

Is to have You

Be my pilot

Caregiver coping - #autopilot. Let God be your pilot! #caregiving Click To Tweet

Put God in the pilot seat!

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Happy Father’s Day – from God

Our Daddy when we need Him

Father’s Day – what a fantastic idea!  A time to call our dads or send a note or make them something special and let them know they’re loved.  On the other hand, Father’s Day  – what a horrible idea.  A time to miss our dads and renew a sense of loss in our lives.

My two fathers (my dad and my father-in-law) on my wedding day. I miss them both and am thankful for my heavenly Father.

This blog is a caregiving blog, and as such I’ve written before about my dads – my own dad and my dad-in-law.  Both men I admire greatly for their familial dedication, hard work ethics and commitment to God.  Today is our second Father’s Day without either man around to thank and that makes me sad.  My family just celebrated my niece’s wedding last weekend.  The whole family was able to be there – except for my dad and my nephew.  They are both awaiting Christ’s soon return and their resurrection from the grave.  We all felt the loss although we chose to speak of it only very little.

Father’s Day.  It used to be fun – now it’s an ouch that doesn’t quite heal, a loss that leaves an ache in one’s center.

For those out there who, like me, are reminded of losses on this Father’s Day, I want to remind you that you have a Father.  I mean a present Father.  One who loves unconditionally.  A Father who cares daily.  A Dad that will never leaves you and never forsake you.  In those moments of loneliness, when the relationship to your earthly father is messed up, or gone, God promises us that he is a “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” (Psalm 68:5)

God’s presence doesn’t remove the loss we feel about our earthly dads, but it certainly provides comfort and hope for things to come.

May God richly bless each of you this Father’s Day and may we each cling to our heavenly Father, until His soon return when we can all be whole and united.

If you're feeling more loss than joy on this Father's Day... #InspireMeMonday… Click To Tweet

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Expectations Can Make All the Difference

Choosing what we expect from life.

Father and son at the start of the cancer journey, on the way to chemo.

It was one of those mornings where expectations of an normal chemo treatment were obliterated – everything that could go wrong, was going from bad to worse!  We had arrived on time for four-year-old Andrew’s chemotherapy, but the nurse hadn’t.

When she finally arrived, the doctor wasn’t there yet, neither was the medicine.  When the medicine arrived, the doctor still hadn’t and the nurse couldn’t give the medication without written doctor orders, even though it was standard procedure.

Finally the doctor arrived and checked Andrew out.  Everything was fine.  Phew.  She suggested we start the Vincristine drip, which would take a little while, because, wonder of wonders; the Operating Room wasn’t ready for his Lumbar Puncture procedure yet.

The nurse hooked Andrew up for the treatment and was just ready to start when the OR called and, well, they were now ready.  The nurse unhooked Andrew and we wheeled him down to the OR holding area.

Can you believe it?  The anesthesiologist wasn’t ready.

Five year old Andrew didn’t care about any of this.  I mean, after all, he had the attention of mommy, the oncologist, the Peds nurse, the OR nurse and the OR assistant.  He chattered happily to any one who might be listening and followed his normal procedure of happily climbing onto the gurney and lying there while they readied the oxygen, the electric probes, the pulse/ox indicator, gloves, swabs and who knows what else.  He demanded a pillow (the OR nurse apologized, after all, it’s in his chart that he wants a pillow) and got it.  Still the anesthesiologist wasn’t ready.

Andrew chattered on about the need to go to Dairy Queen for breakfast (he did not get that idea from me) and declared it to be way better than Taco Bell and decided maybe we would have time for the library.  He proceeded to quickly announce anything else that popped into his little head – it was how he handled his nervousness.

Still we were waiting.

The nurse checked the flush syringe that was hooked up to the port in Andrew’s chest.  It was waiting for the anesthesiologist.  Suddenly Andrew noticed the syringe.  His eyes got big and he reached down and grabbed hold of the syringe.

            Let me pause for a moment

and explain to you the normal procedure that we’d gone through countless times in the last year and a half.  Usually, Andrew hops on the table, the oxygen mask is placed near, the anesthesiologist introduces himself, assures himself of who Andrew is, and injects the propothol (the anesthesia), into Andrew’s port.  Andrew has the same reaction every time the anesthesia hits.  He frowns, starts to tell me it smells funny (I know that because he used to get the sentence out, but now that they know his dosage, he never completes the thought).  Then his eyes get really big, he half yawns, half yells mommy, his eyes roll back in his head and in the middle of the yawn, he collapses onto the pillow and he’s out for the however long they keep him under!

On this day, suddenly Andrew determined in his little mind that the syringe on his chest must be the anesthesia and we just didn’t tell him.  His eyes got huge, he yelled, “Mommy!  Is this the sleepy medicine?”  Then, believe it or not, he half yawned and his eyes began to roll back into his head.

I quickly explained, “No Andrew, it’s not sleepy medicine, it’s just a flush.”

Instantly his eyes replaced themselves, he lifted his head off the pillow and finished the story he had been telling without hardly missing a beat.

            Expectations!  Who knew?  I have never before seen such a physical manifestation of a mental expectation.

I really wondered what Andrew would have done had I not assured him of it only being saline!  Would he have gone to sleep?  How funny.  Maybe after all this time, they don’t even need the anesthesia!

I have heard the phrase that if you expect people to treat you well, they will.  If you expect to succeed you will.  On the other hand if you expect to be carsick, you better take a container and if you expect to be treated as an outcast, you will most likely be very, very lonely.

Expectations.  Hmmm.

What do I expect for myself?

Do I expect to follow the Lord?  Can I expect to be happy?  Do I expect to live a full life of rewards and loving relationships?  Can I remember that a loving Father will be with me in everything that happens to me, even cancer?

Our expectations for ourselves and for our God can make a huge difference in how we approach life.

What are your expectations today?

What are my expectations of God? How about my #expectations for myself? #inspirememonday… Click To Tweet

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Put a Penny in your Pocket

And make a deal with God - an Inspire Me Monday Post

My dog tugged on the leash as I looked down at the tarnished penny in the road.  Should I pick it up?

Is a penny on the road a sign from God? Maybe if it’s needed.

“Put a penny in your pocket, and save it for a rainy day.” My grandma’s green eyes sparkled as she picked up a penny and slid it into her pocket.  I raced ahead across the parking lot, as I often did, to check the newspaper coin return for quarters.  It was our ritual.  Any time I walked with Gram, we checked the coin return in telephone booths, candy machines and any change found went into Gram’s pocket.  She sang that little ditty from her childhood, but she always grinned at me and added, “It’s for investment. God and I have a deal.”

Gram was always collecting for “investment.” 

A quarter lost in the parking lot.  A tip earned from her job at the bakery.  A penny abandoned on the sidewalk.  Change left in the washing machine.  Often I wondered how much these little offerings could possibly contribute to the needs of the world, but those thoughts never stopped me from helping.  Gram had a way of making it fun and it was our special thing, along with writing silly poetry.

One day I asked if she really thought her investment money made a difference. 

Her eyes grew serious and we sat together on a park bench while she reminded me that God didn’t really need our money, but He did need that commitment from us.  She said any chance we have of helping Him by serving others is our way of showing Him our love and trust.  And then Gram told me how much investment money she had turned in the previous year.  My eyes grew wide – I had no idea her quarters, dimes and pennies added up to that amount. 

But over time, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I often found coins when I was with Gram and they were for investment. 

I rarely found coins when by myself.

Hmm.  I wondered – was that God helping Gram with her investment?

After all, Gram had told me, she asked God for lots of things, and this was the thing that she did for God.  It was kind of her deal with God – whatever she found, was His.

I picked up the tarnished penny and placed it in my pocket.  My dog tugged happily and we continued our walk while thoughts kept running through my head.

I’ve asked God for a lot in the last few years:

·         Our son to be healed from leukemia

·         Safety for our oldest daughter in Guatemala

·         Our middle daughter to be able to attend the college of her choice

·         A job to work out

·         Safety on long daily commutes

·         Prayers for our mothers

·         And many other things that came and went in my life

Yes.  I made a lot of requests of my Savior.  And while I know He doesn’t mind, I began to ponder what I’ve given Him in return.  Sure, I teach about Him daily, I’m privileged in my job to be able to do that.  I sing to Him a lot.  I pray a lot and I give thanks many times a day.  It has been my delight to go on many mission trips, but those are so fun for me, I don’t really believe they’re much of a sacrifice.

My dog joyfully raced around me in circles as we cut through the park and out onto the road on the other side.  As I bent to fasten her leash once again, something bright and shiny glistened in the sun in the middle of the road. I checked for cars and led the dog into the road.  I grabbed another penny and slid it into my pocket with the first.

Yes, God.  You’re right.  I need to be more intentional about looking for ways to give back.

“Put a penny in your pocket” chanted in my head as my steps turned toward home.  Two cents wasn’t going to change the world.  So far, I didn’t have enough to even warrant me sending it to my church treasurer, but the conviction grew in my heart.

“I’m going to do it, Gram,” I whispered.  “I’m going to keep up your investment project.”  I don’t know why I haven’t done so before.

My dog danced on the end of her leash as we cut through the shortcut to my street.  Right in front of my house, wouldn’t you know it – a third penny sat waiting for me in the street.

My blue eyes sparkled as I slid the penny into my pocket.

God and I have a deal.

With God,a pittance can be huge.

 

With God, a penny goes a long way! #inspirememonday #blessedbutstressed Click To Tweet

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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More Some: Desiring more of our Father’s gifts

A FMF post

Join us as we write about the prompt: More.

You’ll find some amazing stories over on Kate Motaung’s page for Five-Minute-Friday, where she gives a prompt and we write and post.

A little child’s trust in the love of her father: more some

Chubby, pink-stained fingers clutched the bowl out in front of her, “More some!” begged my little two-year-old as she followed her daddy around the yard.  Her red-rimmed mouth pursed in the most delightful way as she stumbled along behind him, repeating her request, “More some!”

Of course it worked.  Daddy, no matter what he was working on, headed over to the rambling raspberry bushes taking over our fence-line.  He picked the biggest, ripest, and sweetest berries he could find and loaded her little Raggedy-Ann bowl.  She perched on the garden wall and waited, kicking her feet in anticipation, grinning at me as I watched.

“More some,” she announced with great satisfaction.

Daddy handed her the bowl and she lisped, “T’ank you!” and ate her berries with gusto.

“More some” is a phrase Daddy and Mommy came to treasure.  Our daughter’s complete trust in the fruit Daddy would choose, her delight in the simple treat and her persistence to gain something, even when she didn’t even have the right words to do so, gave us joy.

That sweet little red-head turns 22 tomorrow.  She’s almost done with her junior year in college and hoping to head for medical school.  She still wants “more some.”

And I’m glad.

It’s a positive trait – pushing for more.  Not because you’re dissatisfied with what you have, but because your goals are higher: your dreams are bigger!

Working your way up the ladder.

Striving for higher grades.

Seeking a healthier relationship.

Hoping for a cure.

Praying for a miracle.

Increasing trust in the love of our Heavenly Father and the gifts He wants to bestow on us.  Delighting in the things He has provided and persisting in our desire for MORE.

More some.

More of Jesus.

Desiring to get more some. More of Jesus. #fmfparty #FMF #blessedbutstressed Click To Tweet

Steal Away with Me

Enter My Presence and Refresh Your Spirit

Steal Away with Me – I will take care of you

Steal away with Me.

Escape the chains of responsibility

Eschew the ropes of judgement and scorn

Discard the tethers of others’ expectations

And sit awhile with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Let the laundry lie in its limp endless loads

Seek a crack in the cacophony of caregiving

Allow the worries of work to wander away

And relax a moment with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Life is not as I designed it:

Filled with wonder and beauty and love.

So let go of your unrealistic expectations

And trust yourself with Me.

Steal away with Me.

Let the breeze of My loving grace refresh you

Allow My peace to soak into your soul

Bask in the warmth of My wonder and love

And sit awhile with Me.

Steal away with Me – and I will give you peace

Steal Away with Me. Find grace in the presence of God #getaway #refeshyoursoul #inspirememonday Click To Tweet

What brings peace to your soul?

It seems we live in a crazy world.  Work, children, chores and even amazing church responsibilities all seek to divert our attention from the One who offers us the spirit of peace, love and grace.  This weekend, I hungered for that and found solace and grace at the beach.  Often I find serenity in a sunset, a waterfall or the earnest face of a student.  But I confess to days when I forget to even look for what our gracious Father offers us:  to cast our cares on Him, to rely on His direction and to remember that His plans are eternal.

How do you refresh your spirit?

I’d love to hear your comments below!

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Karma or Grace

Which do we give? Which do we deserve?

The idea that we get what we deserve – Karma.

Many of us know popular phrases regarding Karma in our lives, even if it’s not our belief system.  A few of us have wished Karma to happen to those around us.  One or two of us have had our choices come back around and bite us.  Karma seems to be the Hindu and Buddhist version (with a twist) of the Christian Golden Rule: do to others as you would have them do to you.

 It has to do with the consequences of our actions.

Today my eighth grade students, their parents and I, held a yard sale event in order to raise money for their class trip and graduation.  It’s been a work-in-progress for weeks. It’s not a small job, but it is a way to earn money.

Christianity says: Do as Christ did – not as we deserve, but as we’d like

One lady came to our sale and it appeared she might not have a lot of money – her simple clothing, her self-styled hair and her careful shopping all gave us clues.  After selecting with deliberation, she approached to pay for her $4.50 purchase.  She handed me five dollars and told me to keep the change. “It’s for the kids!” she spoke with a sweet and loving smile.  She spotted the brownies the students and I had baked and asked the price.

“Fifty cents,” I replied.

She immediately dug into her purse with a mischievous grin.  “I must have one – after all I need energy to walk home.”

The mom helping me waved her aside, “No!  You already paid an extra fifty cents – just take the brownie!”

Again that kind smile,

“No.  No, it’s for the kids.”

And she bid us an all-encompassing goodbye, wishing the students a wonderful class trip.

Meanwhile, a much younger lady plowed through the clothes, tossing garments one way and then the other.  She had removed her own shirt to try on several others, leaving herself in a black camisole.  Her boyfriend (I’m assuming, I don’t actually know) backed away, walked around nonchalantly for quite some time and then got in his car and drove away, leaving her to toss clothing at will.

I watched her off and on, because her manner was abrupt, slightly rude and a little shifty.  She had darkly dyed hair and spackled on make-up and when someone reached for a shirt, she grabbed it and examined it carefully.  It was odd – it’s a yard sale for goodness sake.

Friendly conversation flowed around her and it was well-established, among those shopping, that this yard sale benefited these hard-at-work students.

A customer asked me a question and as I drifted off to assist him I lost sight of the black camisole.  When I looked up, she was no longer at the table.  I guess it’s a teacher thing, because my eyes automatically scanned the area and spotted her, with many clothing items over her arms, trotting around the back corner of the building and out of sight.  I heard a car engine rev and saw the boyfriend’s car zoom onto the street and away.

The moms and I muttered about people stealing form the kids and felt a little miffed at her behavior.  Frankly, we were dealing with donations and we were cutting deals like crazy – it’s what you do at a yard sale.  Had she asked, we would have sold her those items for very little – but because she didn’t ask, we were indignant at the theft.

One of the helpers sifted through clothing, folding and straightening.  Suddenly she let out a little guffaw and held up a bright pink phone.  She opened the phone and yes, karma is real.  The lady who stole the clothing had left her phone behind – unlocked, so we could easily verify whose pictures it featured.

The karma gets better.

Shortly after, two police cars pulled up.  The officers got out and sauntered over to take their coffee break, buying the baked goods and drinks from the kids in order to offer their support to our cause.  The mom took their business card handed them the phone.

For some reason (and maybe this is not a proud moment) it gave us all a little moment of glee that this lady had stolen $7 worth of clothing (maybe) and had left her smart phone.

In all honesty – haven’t you had those moments? Gleeful moments where someone who treated you so rudely at work is the one to get in trouble with the boss?  Self-righteous moments where you saw someone shop-lift and watched security pick them up?  Have you seen those videos where the car that cuts off the semi-truck get bumped into the ditch?  It makes my students giggle, how about you?

But sometimes they’re not little moments.  Sometimes it’s not glee, but revenge that might burn in the heart.  That jerk who stole money gets busted.  Deserved.  That embezzler who loses it all.  Asked for it.  That bully who gets put-down and reviled.  Karma.

I remember when a cancer diagnosis went with a little shake-of-the-head and a sigh, “Well, he smoked all his life.”  I’ve seen people murmur at an accident scene, “Drunk – she had it coming.”

So Karma fights with “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.”

We must train ourselves not to hope the revenge happens. Instead of dealing out reactions to other’s choices, we must choose to treat as we would want to be treated, not as they deserve.  Why?

As Christians, we have not received Karma – we are not forced to receive what we deserve. “ALL have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”  Sin has separated us forever from a God of love and light.  But our God does not deal in Karma, He deals in grace.

 

He took our #Karma and dealt us #grace. #inspirememonday Click To Tweet

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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The Nature of the Beast

Life Gets Crazy

“It’s the nature of the beast,” I wrote to Anita in one of our many chats:  things pile up in the worst possible ways.

The end of the quarter looms a week away – grades are due, finals given, frantic make-up assignments might possibly be turned in by desperate students and/or more anxious parents.  The yearbook, one of my advisory duties, is due tomorrow – ads need to be polished, pages reviewed, lists double and triple-checked, pictures counted and words edited.  I might have a child that is not wanting to turn in (let alone DO) his homework (it’s stupid, you know) – assignment sheets must be checked, projects supervised and motivation offered.  I’m the sponsor of the 8th Grade class – graduation must be planned, tributes written, gowns and flowers ordered and class trips planned.  It’s spring – students shrug off assignments previously easily completed, drama happens from the slightest thing, and end of the year projects and trips are suddenly imminent.  I’m a writer – I need to meet deadlines, post blogs, write stories and put thoughts into order.

Besides being simply a long list, we have to complete everything well, correctly, on-time and with a smile on our faces.  Is that even possible?

It’s the nature of the beast that when life gets crazy in one area, it’s a certainty that it’ll spin out of control like the Gravity Max, Full Throttle or Sky Scream (great names for crazy roller coasters found at www.coasterguy.wordpress.com 

It’s the nature of the beast – life runs out of control like a crazy roller coaster!
(credit to coasterguy.wordpress.com for great pic)

This is all true for caregiving and parenthood, teaching and doctoring, musicians and authors.  Life gets crazy.  It zooms up and down and then flies around in circles, forwards and backwards.  Events spin upside down and right-side up so fast it’s hard to tell which way is actually correct!

Just like a roller-coaster, once locked in, we have to finish the ride!  Getting off is not really an option.

So what do I do?  My heart rate increases while my sleep decreases.  My worry rises as my exercise takes a back-seat to deadlines.  The pile-up can drive me crazy!

Or.

I can take one thing at a time.  Make a list.  Ask for help.  Communicate my needs.  Scream as needed.  Laugh often. I can hang on while realizing that the ride will end.  Everyone might not be glad they were on the ride, but lessons will be learned, goals accomplished, and relationships cemented.

It’s the nature of the beast.  Life gets crazy.  Hang on, scream, laugh and enjoy the ride.

It’s the nature of the beast. Life gets crazy. Hang on, scream, laugh and enjoy the ride.… Click To Tweet

 

Inspire Me Monday Instructions

What’s your inspirational story? Link up below, and don’t forget the 1-2-3s of building community:

1. Link up your favorite posts from last week!

2. Visit TWO other contributors (especially the person who linked up right before you) and leave an encouraging comment.

3. Spread the cheer THREE ways! Tweet something from a post you read, share a post on your Facebook page, stumble upon it, pin it or whatever social media outlet you prefer—just do it!

Don’t forget to visit the other #InspireMeMonday host site: www.anitaojeda.com

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Freedom of Choice in Everything

we always have the power to choose

Freedom of Choice: It’s what my son advised me to write about today.

My son, the leukemia survivor who watches my writing from the sidelines, knowing it’s about him and keeping out of it in ways only a sixteen-year-old can do. He’s given me permission to write about him, and, as he doesn’t remember much about the roughest parts of his journey through chemo, he sometimes reads my writing and often doesn’t.  He grants permission, but stays detached.

Even on the way to hated chemotherapy treatments, Andrew chose to smile and be happy. It’s those moments when we’re reminded we have freedom of choice.

There are distinctive memories Andrew carries with him, and those are often regarding the ways in which he lost control.  He remembers that medicine doses were non-negotiable.  We were blessed to be based out of Doernbecher Children’s Hospital, and they were absolutely wonderful with Andrew.  They gave him every chance to choose, when he could have a choice.  Songs to hear, videos to watch, color of the food tray, where (but never when) to poke the needle (this arm, or that arm), what he wanted to order for supper, if he wanted to snack – all of these things were left up to Andrew.  Downing his medicine, in whatever manner the doctor prescribed, was not optional.

I remember the only time a nurse entered Andrew’s room with a cheery, “Are we ready to take the medicine?” and I watched the nurse’s face as she finished her question and realized the error of her ways.

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