Tag Archives: Crisis

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January 10, 2015

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Crisis, Heal, Help

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THE BEST CALL

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by Beth Ann Morgan

Ever have one of those days when everything seems to be falling apart, and then, you get “the call”, the one your heart has been waiting for, the one that helps you carry on in spite of the ordeal ahead of you?

As I held my little girl in my arms one terrible spring afternoon, I knew she would not survive until morning. The doctors had run all the tests, knew what was wrong, and needed time to figure out the best way to fix it.

Time was a luxury sweet Abby Mae could not afford.

Tears muddled my window view of the brilliant reds and yellows lining the pavement below. Abby’s breathing sputtered and spattered, her body fidgeting and wrenching on my lap. For the millionth time, I checked my phone.

To my surprise it rang, startling both Abby and I. It was my dear friend, Helen. I answered, relieved to hear her voice. I gave her the quick update and then waited to hear her response. She’s a doctor, so I guess I thought she would say something profound or have a question or suggestion. What she said comforted me more than anything I have ever known.

“I don’t know what to say, my friend.” Pause. “I just had to call.”

We cried together. Neither of us said anything for a long time. The “being together”, experiencing the painful shared burden, no matter how far the distance between us, was powerful. No fancy words, no needless sentiments.

“I don’t know what to say.” She said it again. “I just had to call you – I love you and Miss Abigail so much! We are praying.”

I thanked her as my husband entered the room.

After an emergency surgery at 11 pm, Abigail survived, thank God. The call of my friend was pivotal to my being able to get through the entire situation. Simple love extended when it mattered most.

May God help me be such a friend to others in their times of need.

 

photo courtesy of clarita

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January 8, 2015

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HOW TO GOAL PLAN DURING EXTENDED CRISIS

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by Beth Ann Morgan

How does a goal-oriented person face the New Year with hope of accomplishing anything in the midst of an indefinite season of crisis? The answer I found for myself during our most trying seasons wasn’t necessarily the one I wanted, but it was the one I needed.

A doable list.

I started my New Year with my annual list-making ritual. I’d always loved to set goals and looked forward to it, the creation of my personal road map for the coming year full of exciting adventure and activity.   I would spend all morning propped up in bed, praying and writing, remembering and learning, hoping and dreaming. By the end of it all, I would have a neat, one-page vision to help set my course and motivate every step.

It was never a question of if but rather when all of the items would get done. With joy.

However, this year proved different, as had the last.   Nearly every goal had gone right out the window, and as I sat with my yellow legal pad and G-2 pen, I struggled to find something attainable to record.

What was the point of making goals if I couldn’t achieve them?

Many of my previous goals had revolved around writing, things to accomplish around the home and in my family/ministry/relational life. After living out of suitcases in the midst of complete upheaval for years, I had to accept that none of last year’s goals had been met and would not be met . . . for a long time.

We no longer participated in ministry outside of our immediate family. We couldn’t keep up with all of the relationships we had enjoyed prior to crisis. We weren’t often home, and I wasn’t writing anything except our hospital blog, struggling to get even a few hours with my children, let alone meet my fancy pre-planned relational goals.

I wept.

I realized I needed to make a choice before the voracious monster of frustration latched its ugly talons on my withering spirit. I could either keep writing lists of unattainable goals, or I could prayerfully jot down a couple of somewhat attainable goals pertinent to my current season of life.

I chose the latter. And it set me free.

Free to focus on the here—and-now. Free to live fully today instead of pushing toward the fantasy of tomorrow. Free to love without distraction.

I kept my list simple.

1) Love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

2) Love my neighbor as myself.

Both kept me plenty busy but deeply satisfied. I’ll never fully master either on this earth, but the very pursuit of them wrought new and beautiful meaning to my goal-keeping. Not that I wasn’t already trying in my own way to love God and others, but my overall focus shifted from accomplishing tasks to loving well.

I’m forever grateful for the change. Even though I’m at a place today where I can add more tasks to my list this year, I’ll always keep these two goals at the top.

Everything else is secondary.

 

Photo credit courtesy of Bosela

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January 6, 2015

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Hope, Uncategorized

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ONE THOUSAND GIFTS

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by Beth Ann Morgan

I forget at what point during our years of crisis that I read Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, but I do remember the enormous impact its message had on my life.

My good friend, Michele Cervone Scott, had posted about New York Times’ Bestselling Author, Ann Voskamp, on her blog, www.mommyforwardllc.blogspot.com, some time ago. I had a little time at Abby’s bedside one day, so I checked it out.

Visiting www.aholyexperience.com quickly became number one on my personal gift list.

As a cancer survivor, Ann shared with amazing transparency the value of gratitude during the many years of her family’s struggle with devastating disease. Her inspiring story has blessed millions by giving new meaning to the concept of finding something for which to be thankful, no matter what the circumstances.

Early in our years of trying times, a friend had challenged me to constantly look for things to be thankful for, no matter how long the journey may be. I saw the value and pounced on it, making it a habitual priority in my daily life. One Thousand Gifts enabled me to continue the pursuit during one of the darkest periods, giving me things to look forward to and hope for, simple and easy-to-find things that I so often took for granted but could now appreciate through new eyes.

It gets hard to remain thankful in the thick of it. When you sit next to a loved one lying in a hospital bed, when chronic injury or illness leaves you operating at less than full capacity – indefinitely, when your spouse sleeps somewhere else at night.

Whatever the case may be, one thing I highly recommend is finding something to be thankful for, something to keep you inching forward and remembering the good in this life. Pony tails and snow cones. The postman who makes my little boy feel like a man by loading him up with three envelopes and a package. The color of wheat fields in the sunshine. The bubbly sound of a baby belly laughing. The neighbor who brought over a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies just because.

I don’t hide from the hurt of reality. I take time to feel my feelings, but I don’t stay there. After I pour out my heart like water before the Lord, I make bold requests birthed out of gratitude for the gifts He’s already given. The discipline of giving thanks keeps His power and love on the forefront of my mind, deepening my trust in Him and reminding me that He has set my feet upon a Rock in the midst of the chaos of my life.

Thank You, God.

photo credit: bmcmath

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December 22, 2014

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TAKE 20 MINUTES

OTRAS (4)

by Beth Ann Morgan

It’s all too easy to turn into a machine when things get tough. Days can go by without a decent shower, nutritious food, and solid sleep. No time to process the raw emotional journey, no strength to complete more than the most basic of chores. Go, go, go until sheer exhaustion forces you to collapse, only to find yourself waking the next morning with reality thrusting you into the same mode of survival.

I would encourage you to take 20 minutes.

I remember the first time I realized the value of doing this shortly after heading in to see John one day at the hospital. After driving for an hour and 15 minutes, I felt keen disappointment when the unit clerk informed me that an emergency surgery was underway in the pod, and I would not be allowed to see John for at least another 20 minutes.

“You’re free to go wherever and get a little time to yourself. I’ll announce it over the loudspeaker when the procedure is finished.”

I thanked her and then shuffled back down the hallway. All of the rushing around earlier that day and fighting the traffic, then hurrying upstairs . . . and now to sit? I didn’t know what to do with myself. I admit, I was shocked.

I remember heading to the waiting area and sitting for a full ten minutes. Just sitting. I watched the siblings of patients play, parents and grandparents exchange nervous conversation with tissues in hand, anxious bystanders mumbling into cell phones and running their fingers through their hair.

Compassion washed over me as my eyes filled with tears.

I got out my journal and began to write for another ten minutes. I poured out my heart like water by writing my prayer to the Lord, praying for every broken heart in the room, for every sick and hurting child, and for God to help us all.

Your days and nights might seem to run together, but give it a try whenever you can. Set your timer for 20 minutes. Let yourself sit and do nothing. Allow your thoughts to happen. Pray. Journal. Mediate on a Bible verse. Whatever it is that helps you process what’s going on around you.

And when the timer rings, you’re done. I personally find myself refreshed. My circumstances probably didn’t change, but my load has lightened a little.

I pray yours will, too.

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December 13, 2014

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THE CRIPPLED LAMB

Crippled Lamb

by Beth Ann Morgan

Are you looking for the perfect gift for a child between the ages of four to ten? I have a recommendation for you, one that has the potential to move every reader to tears with its message of hope and beautiful pictures.

The Crippled Lamb by Max Lucado tells the story of an orphaned, crippled lamb named Joshua. His one and only friend is a cow named Abigail, and the two share one night together that they will never forget, a night Joshua would never have known had he not been disabled.

I found myself inspired not only by the book itself but also by the reactions of the children to whom I’ve read it. Their eyes first show great empathy, then move to sadness at the lamb’s lonely plight, and finally, to awestruck wonder as the lamb’s greatest weakness ushers him into the presence of a King.

The other reason I personally like the story is that it shows how everyone has something to give, something of purpose and value, even when it may appear untrue. For years I struggled with a severe case of a heart condition called Neurocardiogenic Syncope. My case baffled cardiologists across the country, and I spent eight years traversing the ups-and-downs of trying to carry out my tasks of daily living without fainting.

During the darkest periods, I was confined to bed, unable to even sit because my severely low blood pressure would drop further still. My brain was foggy at best, and I remember feeling my thoughts swirl around in my head like a load of laundry in a washing machine. It was boring. Time passed by, and I couldn’t remember what I had done much less thought about the previous day . . . week . . . month.

It was lonely.

Until I realized that I could pray. What I had seen previously as an immense trial in my life I now saw as an incredible opportunity. How many people in their twenties are blessed with 24 hours/day, seven days/week to pray for people? Most of them are working, raising a family, studying, praying as time allows, but constantly? That is nothing short of an extreme challenge.

When I understood the magnitude of the gift I’d been given, I gratefully poured out my heart like water before the Lord every day, talking to Him about anything and everything, lifting up concerns for friends and strangers alike. God used those precious years to draw me close, comfort my heart, and teach me many things. As hard as it was, I look back over that period of my life with joy.

It was beautiful to me.

As is The Crippled Lamb and its message of love and hope. May God continue to use this book to reach into the hearts of children and their families to make them tender toward those who feel lonely and left out, renewing their purpose and giving them hope.

 

Photo Courtesy of Max Lucado and Illustrator Andrea Lucado

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December 11, 2014

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PICK ONE

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by Beth Ann Morgan

Christmas cards. Cookie baking. Wrapping gifts. Trimming the tree . . . the list seems to go on and on. When one feels already overwhelmed by the everyday tasks dictated by survival mode, preparing for a holiday you may or may not feel like celebrating can leave a person befuddled to the point of doing absolutely nothing.

My recommendation? Pick one.

Keeping things as simple as possible is sometimes the best thing you can do to love your family during a difficult time. Perhaps in years past, you’ve spent your holidays like mine, steeped in tradition and wonderful memories, all things you’d love to pass on to your children.

Maybe this year things are different. Your husband is gone. Funds are dwindling. A little one’s in the hospital clinging to life. Close friends or family recently moved out of the area and won’t be able to make it back to be with you this year, a time when you need them most.

Whatever your circumstances, I recommend picking one tradition you want to keep and starting there. We chose the Christmas tree. Grandma baked our cookies for us and cards didn’t go out, but we decorated our tree. We used to go to a beautiful Christmas tree farm and spend an afternoon with axe in hand, riding the wagon, drinking hot chocolate in the cozy craft shop.

My heart broke the first year I realized it wouldn’t happen.

We had dreaded Christmas and knew it would soon come upon us. John had spent about six weeks in the hospital and faced another surgery, which meant at least three more weeks of recovery. We all secretly hoped he could come home for Christmas but didn’t dare voice it.

He didn’t make it home until February 21st.

Hannah had wanted to wait for John to get our tree, but the day came when we had to tell her that we would have to get the tree without him. We all cried. It was hard to let go of a memory we so wanted to make, one that would never be

And this year, there was no fancy tree farm outing – we had to stop at Home Depot because it was right off our hospital commute exit. I was afraid Hannah would completely meltdown, but to our great surprise, she allowed herself a smile, walked up to a Douglas Fir, and called out, “This one!”

We took it home, decorated it, and even though the entire process was far from ideal, she was happy. There would be years ahead to decorate with frills and fuss over details, but that particular year, “picking one” met Hannah’s need to keep an important tradition and our parental need to make our daughter feel special. Best of all, it gave us the energy and freedom to focus on the most important things, the love of our family and the birth of our Savior.

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December 9, 2014

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HOLIDAY SHOPPING IN CRISIS

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by Beth Ann Morgan

The holidays can prove stressful without the added dimension of crisis. When it comes to shopping for gifts, making sure your family has all the bases covered can overwhelm you to the point of creating an incredibly difficult situation.

I remember staying in the hospital with Hannah as an infant over Valentine’s Day, and my husband and I totally forgetting about the holiday. We weren’t in the mood to celebrate while our child lay in bed with an antibiotic-resistant strain of E-coli and a 105 degree fever.

But when more children entered the holiday picture, things changed. They had to.

Our culture starts priming no later than December first. Schools have assigned their book reports on the history of Saint Nicholas. Colorful light displays have popped up all around town, even in the neighbors’ yard, and Sunday schools have sent home all kinds of sticky candy cane decorations and manger scene ornaments. It’s everywhere. To say that kids are excited is an understatement, especially kids whose family is going through a tough time.

Even though presents do not erase the pain children feel, a small gift gives them something beautiful in the midst of tragedy, something to look forward to and give them hope. I saw evidence of this firsthand whenever a loving soul would hand my kids a toy or a coloring book, something to pass the time and distract their hearts from hurting.

The Christmas John had to stay in the hospital, I confided in one of the nurses (I believe her name was Eloise) that I hadn’t started shopping yet, only three days before Christmas. Even though I knew extended family adults expected nothing from us and were extremely supportive, I didn’t want to let the children down, especially Hannah.

She had been through enough. I couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering another disappointment.

Nurse Eloise lit up like a Christmas tree. “I’ll do your shopping for you!”

We continued talking, and by the end, she had encouraged me so much that on my commute home, I stayed out until midnight finishing my shopping. Even though I never took her up on it, Nurse Eloise’s kind offer could have come in handy if I couldn’t have mustered the emotional, mental, and physical strength to complete the task myself.

Planning, shopping, and wrapping gifts are typically not jobs parents want to handoff to someone else, but from one parent to another, give yourself permission to let it go. It can be really hard. Over the years, I’ve gotten really good at delegating, but I’ve finally realized that some things didn’t get done because I wanted to be the one to do them.

Sometimes getting it done is more important than doing it yourself. Christmas shopping for little ones is one of those important tasks, and typically, if you ask in advance, it won’t be too hard to find someone willing to help you shop and/or wrap.

Be careful if you end up doing the shopping yourself. I overspent like crazy the first time I holiday shopped during crisis. Emotion drove me like Mario Andretti his racecar because our degree of suffering was great – my heart leapt on the opportunity to ease the blow.

I highly recommend coming up with a simple budget-friendly list and sticking to it in the store.

May God surround you with much love and richly bless you and yours as you make preparations to navigate the season.

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December 4, 2014

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PORTABLE OFFICE SUPPLY KIT

office on the go

One of the things I wish I’d known a lot earlier in my hospital journey was the benefit of carrying basic office supplies with me. I can’t tell you how many times I wished I’d had a pen and paper. Even something simple like a small zippered pouch with pens, paperclips, sticky notes, and scissors would have saved me numerous trips to the unit clerk’s desk or down to the gift shop.

When my mother and sister were in a terrible car accident, I knew they’d stay in the hospital for quite some time. The impact had torn my sister’s right arm from the socket.   And when the surgeon went in to repair my mother’s broken ankle, he later told us the bones had been smashed into pebbles.

With such massive reconstructions and healing involved, many people from multiple disciplines assisted in my family’s care over a prolonged period of time. Physicians, nurses, therapists, social workers, pastors, neighbors, friends, insurance agents, homecare, outpatient treatment, medical supply companies, etc. Keeping everyone’s contact information and documentation straight could quickly have become a nightmare.

I scurried home and opened nearly every drawer, cupboard, and under-the-bed rubber bins. Finally, it stood ready, a large black accordion folder complete with hastily but lovingly assembled products for my family to use during their journey. Perhaps this simple collection of supply items will come in handy for yours as well.

Photo courtesy of decorating files.com via Pinterest

Pictured above: A dish drainer outfitted with cute files and assorted office supplies makes a great portable office. 

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November 25, 2014

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PAJAMA PICKOUT

pajamas

by Beth Ann Morgan

We all need something to look forward to, especially in the darkest of times. About four years ago when our son, John, clung to life in the hospital, one simple request back on the home front ended up creating some of my daughter, Hannah’s, happiest memories during the most tragic times of her life.

I spent Saturdays at home during John’s extended stay, so I made a big deal about seeing Hannah and getting to spend time with her. On such a night, I’d battled three extra hours of traffic and returned from the hospital much later than I’d wanted to, totally and utterly exhausted.

She threw open the door with bells on. I greeted her royally and then grabbed my duffel bag.

“Come on, Sweetheart. Let’s get ready for bed. You have a big soccer game early in the morning.”

She bounded up the steps after me. We chatted for a minute while I unpacked my things.

“Hannah, would you please hand me some pajamas?”

“Sure, Mommy.” She leapt up and yanked open the drawer. “Which ones did you say?” Before I could answer, I saw her scoop out a top, then a nightgown, then another. “Wow! You have so many pretty and fun pajamas to wear.”

“Would you like to pick out the ones I wear tonight?”

Sharp gasp. “Really?” Her hand flew to her chest, then back to the clothes. “I would love to, Mommy!” She dug around and pulled out every item of clothing, finally deciding on a turquoise and white matching capris set. “This one!” she shouted.

It was one of the best things I ever did. Without realizing it, I had given her something fun and pretty to do but more importantly control. I saw in that moment how much that choice meant to her and made a decision of my own.

“Tell you what, Hannah, how about you pick out my jammies every Saturday night?”

“Really? You mean it, Mommy?” She clasped her hands together. “Yes, yes! I will! Oh, thank you, Mommy. I love you.”

In months to come, she looked forward to Saturday nights more than ever. She made plans about which pajamas she would pick and frown if I wore on Friday the pajamas she planned to pick on Saturday.

“Take them off!” No rest and no peace until they were back in my drawer.

It wasn’t always convenient, but I didn’t mind. She needed it, depended on it, perhaps too much, but in some way, I believe it helped her immensely.

Something simple yet fun, something to look forward to. May God grant us all some small thing such as pajama picking in the midst of every storm.

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November 15, 2014

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TABLE TIME

dinner in front of tv

by Beth Ann Morgan

Have you ever gone through a period of time with an empty seat at the table? If the vacancy continues indefinitely, the pain of a loved one’s absence can turn mealtime into a dreaded affair.

A little switcheroo might be the best thing on the menu.

While Abigail spent many weeks in the hospital over the course of her first 18 months of life, our family developed a coverage system so that either Chris or I would be with Abigail all of the time. The other parent stayed local with the other two.

We hated it. Every minute of it. The not-having-everyone-together in the same physical location while a Morgan literally teetered on the brink of death day after day after day was horrible.

So, a few weeks into all of this, I realized I dreaded coming home on the weekends. I was thrilled to see Hannah and John, of course, but I mentally shut down at suppertime. Unless a kind soul had delivered a meal on Friday night, I served my kids chicken nuggets, corn, and applesauce. For weeks.

What kind of pediatric dietitian does that?

One that’s hurting. My husband’s empty spot at the table served as a constant reminder of Abby’s fragile state, and I had a very hard time eating at all during those days. So did my kids.

Guess what we did? A little switcheroo. We sometimes ate at the coffee table or the dining room table so that the loss wasn’t as obvious. I’m not a huge fan of eating in front of the TV, but some days, assembling a chicken nugget platter and popping in a DVD was all I could muster.

Sometimes you do what you’ve got to do. And “changing up” your table time might make a big, much-needed difference. For everbody.