Tag Archives: hospital

“You Should Go to Church”

It doesn’t matter where you are.

The title was something my Mom said to me today.   Setting:  in the hospital, after their minister (mine, too, I guess) had visited Dad.  I was leaving for home; Mom was walking me out.  She said this, not in anger, just in passing.  I don’t remember the entire conversation, but here are my thoughts:

I don’t see anything wrong with going to church.  For many people it is a time to rejoice, be with friends, and celebrate God.  Nothing wrong with any of that.  For others, it is a time to be introspective, learn about their religion’s beliefs, and give them time to pray in public.  Nothing wrong with any of that.

For me, it would, mostly, be a waste of my time.  It’s not that I don’t have strong beliefs; I do.  It’s not that I don’t pray; I do – a lot.  It’s not that I don’t want to be introspective; I do and I am.

However, church does not hold much for me, anymore.  It’s isn’t that I have outgrown it or anything; I am just in a different place.   I enjoy all my time now, and all of it is with God to one degree or another.  I see church as a place to concentrate on God and to be with Him.  I do that at home or out anywhere else.  I pray when I feel like it; it is a communication for me; a talking, not a specific ritual.  God and I talk; we converse; I make my needs and thoughts known; He responds.  He “speaks” in my head, through my conscience, my inner discussions.  I learn through these and through experiences as well as through watching the world and listening.

You all are a part of my learning process.  I learn through each and every post you do; I see your worlds, your lives, your people, everything about you that you put out for me to see.  I learn from the short poem about the bridge to the 5-6 page thought-provoking tour of your psyche you might present each day.  It has to be that way or else I could never get through following 80+ blogs a week.

Your lives are important to me and though I can’t quote you or your stories well all the time, I still know who you are and what you are like when I am in the midst of your stories and truths and trials.  I immerse myself in life and in your lives.  Vicarious living is fun and exciting and a learning experience as well as anything else.

I play video games and I learn about life there, too.  The people who write those (at least, the ones I play) are people who create rules and environments and then allow you, through your character, to interact and live a life with consequences.  Dying means getting another chance to try – that is a learning experience, too.

So, without excuses, I don’t go to church.  Life is my church; I am kinda always there.  I like it this way.  I try to share back with you and with others whose lives I come into contact with.  I intend to increase all of this and extend both my reach and my learning.

If you aren’t getting all of this out of life, it’s not because it isn’t there – please just wake up and start.  Church or no church, life is there and is good and has all kinds of experiences for you.

Namaste,

Scott

Rain and God

This was sent to me in an email.  I decided to check it out.

Snopes states that it is true—> Here <—-  I wanted to share it with you.

Note:  My daughter (the Doctor who just got married) was born with pneumonia.  She should have died.  God watched over her.  This story reminded me.  Perhaps, I should post the story someday.

May God bless and every one of you today!

The smell of rain
A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery.

Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news.
That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple’s new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature..
Still, the doctor’s soft words dropped like bombs.
‘I don’t think she’s going to make it,’ he said,
as kindly as he could.

‘There’s only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one’

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana
would likely face if she survived.

She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

‘No! No!’ was all Diana could say.

She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four.

Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was
slipping away

But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Dana ‘s underdeveloped nervous system was essentially ‘raw’, the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn’t even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love.

All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would
stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger.

But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there.

At last, when Dana turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms
for the very first time.

And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.
Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life.

She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving , Texas , Dana was sitting in her mother’s lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin’s baseball team was practicing.

As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby, when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, ‘Do you smell that?’
Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, ‘Yes, it smells like rain.’

Dana closed her eyes and again asked,
‘Do you smell that?’

Once again, her mother replied, ‘Yes, I think we’re about to get wet. It smells like rain.’

Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced,
‘No, it smells like Him.

‘It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest.’
Tears blurred Diana’s eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children.
Before the rains came, her daughter’s words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along.

During those long days and nights of her first two months
of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

*If you want to see  more pictures, click on one of the pics above to go the the story.  I don’t think I need to say much.  I welcome your comments.

Namaste,

Scott

Focusing in

This morning will be short. It is 6:50am and Mom, Sis, and I leave to help transport Dad to another hospital for this morning.He is having a port put in his jugular for dialysis.

Our prayers are that the dialysis is not necessary. Our hopes are simply that he lives.

Isn’t it interesting how your lives can become so pivotal on just one point for a period of time? All our efforts; all our cares; hopes; dreams; all become nothing for a bit when we are focused, especially on those we love.

In a sense, God has given us such a joy and such a power to be able to block out all for even a time to focus on the here and now and understand how much this physical life means to us and how we know He is truly in charge.

I think that’s it for today. Today, I didn’t want to leave you all alone out there, but I am tired and have so much to do.
Namaste,
Scott

I have been Told…

I have been told a lot of things over the years, especially by the “experts”.This has concerned a wide variety of subjects and, even the experts haven’t agreed most of the time.
One of the biggies, recently, for me has been Dreamfield’s Pasta. Since working very hard on my Diabetic Diet concerning carbs, I have looked to labels more and more. When a good friend recommended DF to me, I went to the local Kroger’s and looked for it. The label gave an astounding promise of 5 net carbs per serving! This was simply beyond belief. So, I bought it, took it home, and began eating. Now, I am much more careful since my stroke, so I did continue my research and test on my own. I subscribed to the comments on DF and was devastated to hear that all the “experts” and scientific testing showed that DF was no better than any other pasta and referred to it as the “Dreamfield Fraud”.

I decided to test harder. After conducting some fairly intensive personal tests and redoing them off and on for the last few months, I have concluded that, for me, DF works. I have revised it just a bit (under cook the pasta just a shade – Al Dente) and use a low-carb sauce now. However, it does not raise my sugar and allows me to eat a good portion of spaghetti now when I feel the urge.

What amazed me more was that, after I commented on the website about my findings and conclusions (I always said “for me” and “test for yourself”), I was told that 1) I was wrong; 2) I was a liar 3) I was telling a story to promote DR (I was a rep). I retested and put the findings out again, and, again, was told that I was not a scientist and was, therefore, doing it wrong and so on. People would almost hatefully argue this with me, as if I was calling them liars with their own discoveries.

It did not seem to matter that I kept stating that it was true “for me” and that everyone “should test” for themselves. I pointed out that not everyone was alike and that, only by checking things out for themselves, would they really know.

It’s been kinda funny, but, in the last few weeks, I have had several people comment on the site that, “I tested this and it works for me” and “not everyone is the same”.

The reason I put this here is two-fold:

First, many people take it as a personal attack if you say anything different from their views. I notice this in all areas, but, especially, in religion.

Second, I have also seen that, once someone speaks up, it doesn’t take long before there are others.

My Dad is in the hospital; “experts” (well, one) have said what he needs and dismissed my sister when she asked questions about it all. I find that terrifying that an “expert” no longer considers it necessary to study the situation more and that he/she is not willing to explain the situation to those extremely concerned about the matter.

As I told my students many times, “Science, in my opinion, is a ‘best guess’ thing, in spite of ‘facts’. After all, we were a flat world once. Also, there was no such thing as germs or radiation.”

We change our “facts” all the time. It is now believed that an object (sub-atomic, but an object) can, indeed, be in two places at once. Supposedly, it can be proved. What this all tells me is that an expert should be someone who is continually looking to improve and find new facts, and everyone can learn from others.

I hope and plan to never stop learning. And, a good way for me to learn has been to teach.

All of you have something to teach and much to learn.

Do both.
Namaste,
Scott

That Question of Death

It is early evening on Sunday.  I, generally, try to write my blog post in the morning.   However, with my Dad in the hospital, I visited with Mom, stayed quite awhile, and came home late this afternoon.

I have been dealing with several issues lately and will throw them out to you for discussion if I may. My belief in death is that we all go to God when it’s done. I have never been big on judgement and punishment; I know that statement will bother a lot of church-goers; I apologize.  I am not trying to offend, just explain.

Dad doesn’t like to show worry, but I believe he is.  I am.  I am not worried for anything except his physical body, the deep emotions he would leave behind, and the problems with him being gone.

My faith in God watching over us (over him) and bringing all things together for good, does not leave death out of the picture. I understand that. I also understand it is not always better for someone to continue living. I don’t believe this is Dad’s case at all. He has many years left in him and he doesn’t want to die. My dilemma is simply the pain of leaving behind people who have issues.

I know it’s not my place to worry about everyone and I don’t really. But, I have just been trying to work and word the idea of “everything works together for good” and the idea of death. How do we talk with people about this and still sound compassionate?   I am sorry, but “he’s in a better place now,” just doesn’t cut it well with me. Nor does “you know, he lived his whole life preparing to leave and be with God.”

Perhaps, that makes me selfish, but, if so, it does most of the population of the world, I think. Opinion?
Namaste,
Scott

saania2806.wordpress.com/

Philosophy is all about being curious, asking basic questions. And it can be fun!

North Noir

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