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5 Friday Faves – Pokemon Guitar Medley, Dr. Tony Evans on Race, Burgess Owens on Liberalism, Coconut Cake, and Back to School

July 22, 2016 admindeb 4 Comments

Friday again. It’s been a hot weather week here as we move to the end of July. How the summer flies by! I get my walks in early and try to get work done before the afternoon dulls my brain. For those of you who have long workdays with some out in this heat, the weekend is almost here. My Friday Faves this week are:

1) Pokémon Guitar Medley – For me, Pokémon stirs up old memories of my boys hunkered down playing it on the old Gameboy system. The melodies emitted from the game had no emotional attachment for me; just signaled their playing nearby. Photo Credit: YouTube

Fast-forward a couple of decades to a new phone app – Pokémon Go. Genius! Nostalgia reigns. This version of the game weds the old with the new – social gaming and a quasi-outdoor-adventure. Even in our quiet old neighborhood, there are now young folks walking around with their phones out like flashlights (reminds me of the old guys on the beach waving their metal detectors back and forth). Photo Credit: Times Free Press

This phenomenon has definitely stirred up sweet memories for guitarist Nathan Mills at Beyond the Guitar. He’s arranged a melody of some of those old tinkly electronic tunes from childhood of playing Pokémon. Whether you ever played the game, you will enjoy the music (hard to believe the beauty those composers instilled into the gaming experience for the kids who played back then).

2) Dr. Tony Evans on Race – A Biblical Response on Race – You already know I love radio. Well, Tony Evans has been a go-to for me for 30 years. His program, The Alternative, and his preaching, speaking, and writing are just as fresh and relevant today as ever.Photo Credit: Tony Evans

This past Sunday he preached on Race, Culture, and the Biblical Response. His message is to the church, but anyone could benefit from what he has to say on these issues. So timely also as our nation is going through an intensified examination of our own thinking and actions in this. Evans used the text of Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well, crossing culture and class, demonstrating the love of God.

“It’s real easy in here….we can all get along…in here. What happens when you go out and you have to face your own race? What happens when your biblical view is not the popular view? What happens when you’re rejected for not being black enough, white enough….? When you have to take that stand responsibly, kindly, in love, but clearly. When you hear messages on love and unity….it’s good…inside the House. What God is looking for are some serious Christians on this issue who start biblically and spiritually and work it down racially, socially, and culturally. You do not start with your culture and work it up. You start with the Word and the authority of your faith and work it in. May God help us to do our part locally, personally, in our families, and through our influence, to bring people to a spiritual biblical approach to the issue of race, culture, and class so at least we can model, before the world, biblical solutions to a society in chaos.” – Tony Evans

3) Burgess Owens on Liberalism – We are in the political season of party conventions and a presidential election. So much rhetoric. So many promises. So much finger-pointing and blame-shifting. Over the course of my life, I’ve changed political parties as they have changed ideologies. This election is a tough one for some of us…

I love to discover unusual heroes who are rarely found in popular media. Star Parker is one of these – a politically conservative black woman who also changed her thinking over the course of her life. She was the impetus for me to search for other conservative thinkers who, because of their race or beliefs, have to have a deeper sort of courage to give voice to their ideas. This week, I discovered Superbowl Champion Burgess Owens. You can see him speak about persistence in this YouTube video on “the 13th season”. He is the author of Liberalism or How to Turn Good Men into Whiners, Weenies and Wimps. He writes about the first 100 year, post-slavery, history of entrepreneurial, faith- and family-centered American blacks. He also writes about the founding of the NAACP by mostly white, Marxist social engineers, and that influence on African-American thinking and culture. Photo Credit: Simon & Schuster

I have not read the book yet, so this is not a recommendation of the book as much as of the author. After hearing him speak during an interview (as part of his book tour), I was struck by this “other side” of what we see in the news media. His thinking is compelling. In my 20s, I worked in a huge inner-city hospital in Atlanta (wrote about it here). It was then that my thinking politically began to change. I loved our patients and families so much, and the poverty that encased them seemed impenetrable. It was then I began to see that throwing money at poverty doesn’t make it go away. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away either. My nursing friends and I would have deep and anguished conversations about the tangled mess of poverty, welfare, class, race, and politics. I am thankful for how those years and relationships changed my thinking. Still have so much to learn.

I welcome your recommendation of other voices…these kinds of conversations could affect real and crucial change…beyond any political party or government power.

4) Three Day Coconut Cake – OK…something a little lighter. My mom-in-law is an amazing cook. She also knows I love coconut. We had a huge family gathering this past week to celebrate the newest addition to our family. She always makes strawberry pretzel salad which is top of the list of our family favorites. For me (and a handful of others who also like coconut), she made this refrigerator coconut cake. It’s practically a food group all by itself. Enjoy. Here’s the recipe.

Photo Credit: ChinDeep

5) Back to School – During the hottest days of summer, a Fall breeze blows through our favorite stores. Back to school supplies and cool kids’ clothes pop up everywhere. I have always loved the smell of pencils and paper. However, I never loved the long hours of school that boxed in our children to spend evenings separated from us and each other with hours and hours of homework. Sorry, wonderful teacher friends of mine. Anyway, seeing school supplies in the stores this week was fun…and also a reminder of the flight of time. Summer slow down.

I always love to hear about your favorite finds of the week. Please comment below. Have a safe and sweet weekend!

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The Lessons of an Innercity Hospital – God Loves Us All the Same

August 20, 2015 admindeb 8 Comments

Photo Credit: UnclePockets, Flikr: Grady, Wikimedia.org

For seven years, I worked in Atlanta’s Grady Memorial Hospital. At that time, it was THE hospital (rather than the “main hospital” of the Grady Health System) with 18 floors and 1100 beds. Grady is a “safety net” hospital, extending care to the urban poor. It’s also a Level 1 trauma center. Situated in downtown Atlanta, perched alongside major interstate highways (I-85/75 and I-20), Grady echoes with sirens sounding constantly, signaling the arrival of victims of strokes, gunshot wounds or high-speed auto accidents.

Way above the crazy chaos of the trauma center, my job took me into the relative quiet of the 10th floor oncology service. 10B was my unit, serving cancer patients in treatment or in the days of dying when treatment failed. I was the oncology clinical nurse specialist, responsible for training and assistive to nurse, patient, and family support. Many days, it was the extra set of hands that was needed the most.

What happened in that space of seven years, early in my career, taught me deep lessons about life and caring.

I came to Grady after finishing graduate school at Emory University…too young and inexperienced really for the job and the confidence given me. Mary Woody, the director of nursing at that time, gave me wise counsel. “Whatever is done for the patient, be it housekeeping or medical treatment, learn as much as you can about its delivery, and do whatever you can to serve at all those levels.”

I listened and did my best to follow her counsel.

Almost all my colleagues and our patients were African-American and urban. I was not, having grown up in a small town outside the city, in a school system only integrated while I was in high school. In the quiet moments on the unit (few but treasured), I would listen to stories unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Especially from the older ones. Stories of years living in segregation (Grady was actually built as a segregated hospital with wings opposite each other for the care of blacks and whites). Stories of years after, living in forced integration.

One day I want to write some of those stories. Having grown up in a home where my mom taught us to love without distinctions for differences, I had actually missed seeing what it must have been like for those who lived every day marked somehow by the color of their skin.

Again, I was very young during those years at Grady and drank in the stories…marveling at the courage and resilience of both my older colleagues and our patients and families. Taken aback at times, to be honest, by the clear declarations of my “shared responsibility”, being white, of past atrocities they had experienced. If I could have asked forgiveness for all of that, I would have. Instead, “I’m sorry” seemed so inadequate.

There were many lessons for me in those years. Here’s the story I wanted to share today:

It was the end of my work day…as I walked off the unit, thoughts of beloved patients who might not make it to tomorrow clouded my mind. At the bank of elevators, I punched the down button. Finally, the doors of one opened, and it was packed. Often, because of how full and slow Grady’s elevators were, people would go up to come down.

Maybe in deference to my being in nurse’s uniform, or just out of the kindness of strangers, there was a push backward and a space was made for me. I gratefully filled that space. Then the other elevator occupants relaxed and squeezed me in their embrace as the door closed.

At the end of the day, everybody just wanted to get home. That tight fit continued all those floors down to ground. Me and my white uniform – all that whiteness enveloped by so many tired, black family members. Tired like me or more so. The smell of sweat and potato chips, and the heat of so many bodies, caused me to withdraw back into my own small thoughts.

As if in audible voice, God broke through that noise in my head with: “I love you all the same.” All of us, in that elevator – the poor and the privileged. We are important to Him. It is so easy to fall into our own swollen self-importance – whether it relates to position or education or any other state of being we take comfort in…or through which we isolate ourselves.

God’s heart toward us and ours toward each other – that is transforming. That can be world-changing.

Until that moment, I had felt no compassion for those surrounding me in that small space. We were squashed together never to probably see each other again once we reached street level. Yet, in that moment, at the beckoning of God to take notice, I remembered that we all matter to Him. Whatever was going on in each of our lives – bone-weariness or deep sorrow or great anticipation at good news – we mattered to Him.

God calls us to enter into the generous love He has for us and for our neighbor.

If my companions in that elevator knew my thoughts that moment, they might have pulled back a bit from me. I just wanted to turn around and take in all those faces – to bask in the radiance of His love for each one. At that moment, I wanted to rejoice with those rejoicing and weep with those who would weep beyond that elevator. I was low and brought up by their small kindness and I wanted to somehow do the same.

Was there a glow in that tiny room of strangers? There was for me.

Of course, I didn’t strike up friendships with those who nudged out after me on the ground floor at the last opening of that elevator door. We all walked out into the Georgia late afternoon sun, all together, and then peeled off to different destinations. I went on to my car in the employee parking lot – another privilege of mine, among so many.

That day, my heart opened wider to where I might fit in the Kingdom of God, and what His purposes were for us – to love Him and to love others as He sees them and loves them. The patients, families, and colleagues I loved already…and the strangers along the way.

Seeing the people, He [Jesus] felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to His disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. “Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest.” – Matthew 9:36-38

YouTube Video – Grady Memorial Audio Slideshow

Love is the Final Fight – an Ode to John M. Perkins

Baptist Global Response

Love Your Neighbor as Yourself – Part 1 – John Piper

Love Your Neighbor as Yourself – Part 2 – John Piper

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The F** Word, Fat-phobia, and an Obesity Task Force – 3 Small Stories

March 24, 2015 admindeb Leave a comment

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from You… – Psalm 139:13-15

Flee immorality. Every other sin that a man commits is outside the body, but the immoral man sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body. – 1 Corinthians 6:18-20

The F** Word – After church one Sunday years ago, while living in Morocco, we gathered for lunch with other American friends. It’s funny how we talk about eating while we eat. I don’t remember the subject of that conversation, but we all remember a particular humorous miscommunication. For some reason forgotten now, I said, “We don’t allow the F** word to be said in our home.” Another parent of teenagers said rapid-fire, “Well, I should hope not!” – thinking I was referring to the four-letter F-word. Then one of our teens said, “She means the word ‘fat'”.

I have struggled with my weight all my life. Part of it probably goes back to our Scottish heritage – not all of whom are stocky, I’m sure, but definitely our family was, for generations back. Part of it also is a propensity for filling whatever sense of emptiness (or lacking) I had at the moment with food. That being said, I don’t mind the culture of celebrating with food, either. There’s just no getting away from food, really, and who wants to? Using food properly is a challenge, and one I have taken on, with varying degrees of success (keep reading).

Fat-Phobia – Having had issues with food and experiencing “fat-shaming” from an early age, I did not want that for my children. However, I did NOT want them to be fat-phobic either. I did not want them to define themselves or others as desirable or not, just based on size or body type. We didn’t use that language.

However, knowing my own struggle with food, I didn’t want to pass that struggle to them, as much as was possible. When they were young children, we could help with their food choices and portions. As they moved through puberty with all its body change freak-outs, we operated from the God-inspired premise that they were “fearfully and wonderfully made”. Can’t say how successful we were, but we tried. Now young adults, their choices are their own. I never know what to cook for them, because there is that fear of “fat” lurking about, even though they are all gorgeous healthy young people. [Photo insert would usually happen here, but better not.]

Obesity Task Force – Years before marriage and children, during a time of major career investment, I was invited to be part of an obesity task force. We were all affiliated with Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia – a huge inner city medical center. The task force consisted of internal medicine docs, endocrinology researchers, nurses, and dieticians. We met regularly for several weeks, after work for dinner, to tackle the problem of obesity in our urban poor patient population. We all gained weight. One of our members was Italian, in the US for an endocrinology fellowship. He made the most amazing fettuccine carbonara I have ever tasted (recipe below).

Back to the subject: what we discovered on that task force is that obesity is not easily defined, nor its causative agents as easily identified as we all previously thought. Finally, we also realized how inadequate and unrealistic our interventions had been and we weren’t sure what we could do better. It’s too easy to judge the obese person who has dangerously high blood pressure and continues to eat in ways that will shorten his/her life. However, it is much harder to help someone change habits, their history of coping, and social culture related to food. Much harder.

What are the morals to these stories?

1) Fat shouldn’t be a bad word. Eating disorders and disorderly eating are part of our Western culture (for sure, if not globally). We do not help by harming – whether it’s another person or ourselves. Poor nutrition, leading to morbid obesity or thinness, is definitely a struggle for us as a culture. However, the trend in the US of being so food-conscious and food-controlling is surely not healthy. Or as socially conscious as we think. Something to think about. For each of us…not just for health’s sake, but for the sake of our community and world. The world can’t afford to eat the way we do – either to excess or for health. How can we simplify our diet and still enjoy the great good that food brings?

2) Food is meant to be shared. That brief season on the task force was so fascinating; we learned as much from eating together as talking together. Our family table, with the children growing up, sharing food with each other and lots of company, was a time I will always cherish. Today, in these times, sharing food is a bit more challenging, with busy schedules, and food-related issues (allergies and preferences), but I am determined to stay in the game. I think we actually eat less when we eat together. The company fills those empty places as much as the food does.

3) Face the reality of obesity without shaming or judging – yourself or others. For those of us who struggle with our weight, I am learning that it is possible to have some victory in that area, without dieting (notice that word has “die” in it). That doesn’t mean that I am thin (“the tyranny of thinness” is a subject for another time). My blood pressure is good, and I am not on any medications right now, but being thin is not the goal. Living healthy is the goal. The wee bit my husband and I try to do to live healthy is this: work hard, do some regular exercise, rest/sleep enough, try to limit salt and “white” carbs (sugar and white flour/rice/pasta/potatoes), avoid nighttime eating, battle a sedentary lifestyle (that comes with all the “screens” in our lives), nurture your sense of humor, practice gratefulness and forgiveness, find ways to serve people, spend time in community, and spend time with God.

I’ll close with what Jesus said about food:

Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work.” – John 4:34

From other passages in Scripture, Jesus enjoyed eating with others, but He lived also with that greater purpose. I want to be like Him.

Italian Grandmother’s Recipe for Fettuccine Carbonara

Chipsy – Egypt’s snack-food giant – A Time to Munch – interesting article about a food industry in Egypt that has over the last 30 years affected a culture – “the Chipsy Generation”

Photo Credits: www.incourage.me and www.aholyexperience.com and image of Grady Memorial Hospital