Haste Makes Waste

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If you’re reading this as a SCI survivor or family member, you understand that everything, I mean E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G, takes longer to do than it used to. If you’re able bodied in how you move about, here is an insight for you into our world and a reason for you to count your blessings. Given limited time in a day, it is only logical that I work to streamline or use as few steps as are necessary in everything I do. However, my Dad’s adage haste makes waste comes back to haunt me.

Want to hear some of the problems I’ve gotten myself into? Some are embarrassing but I share to remind myself and to warn others of the risks.

  • One day it had been raining and my ramp was wet from our earlier stop. We arrived for a brunch at a new venue and finally found a parking spot with an opening on the correct side of the van so I could lower and exit the ramp safely. Feeling like we were in a bit of a hurry, I didn’t make sure my feet were both still on the footrest and also neglected to hook my left elbow around the handle located behind my left shoulder designed for someone to push. I started down the ramp, and it seemed we had a perfect storm. Whether it was the wet ramp, the toe of my shoe skidding down, or my body not hooked and secured into place, but my wheelchair slowed and my body kept going. I quickly found myself lying on the floor of the parking lot at the foot of my van’s ramp. Thankfully my husband was right there and has the strength to lift me back into the WC. Haste makes waste.
  • One day we arrived back in our condo parking lot and I decided to quickly release my seatbelt, unhook the security hooks in the van floor, turn 90* to exit the van, and be ready to go as soon as the car stopped and ramp was lowered. I was even feeling a bit smug for ‘beating the clock’ on this series of maneuvers. Imagine my shock when I looked down to watch the ramp’s final decline and noticed my feet. They had slipped off the footrest and were positioned IN the exit opening. I was horrified to see the ramp make its final decent where the top end of the ramp locks snuggly over the van floor. By this time, my shoe toes were being squeezed under the metal ramp. It’s as scared as I’ve been. Of course, I couldn’t feel my toes, and I envisioned crushed bones. I just knew once I got upstairs and removed my shoes, there would be blood pooled inside and I’d have toes that would need immediate attention by highly trained medical staff. While still in the car, I had automatically yelled to stop the ramp’s descent but pushing that button by my husband, of course, couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Using self-talk, calmly as I could, I headed upstairs, noting and thankful I wasn’t leaving a trail of blood. Ok, maybe only the ends of my toes had been damaged. Once I got upstairs, I could have cried with relief. You should know that the shoes SCI people buy need to be half to a full size larger than before. The shoes I was wearing (purchased post-accident) were large enough that the rounded, rubber ends that had been crushed only held open space, not my toes! Well, that’s a rushing mistake I’ll never make again. I now leave ample room between my feet and the ramp that will be lowered and always glance down for a visual on my feet.
  • Some wastes, thankfully, aren’t quite that dramatic, just frustrating. Thanks again to the SCI, my digestive system is a bit touchy. I’ve learned that my most reliable yet delicious breakfast is a bowl of steel cut oatmeal. My dear husband, who does the lion’s share of grocery shopping, happened on a 3-minute “quick” variety that I could cook in the microwave. I bought a safe microwave dish for this. By safe, read: light weight, large enough to prevent boil-overs, handles, lid that ‘locks’, and vents for safely draining. My sisters had helped me reorganize the kitchen so the items I need are low and within arms’ reach. Ok, picture me rolling to get out all the needed utensils and ingredients. When I went to grab the (heavy) oatmeal box, I lifted it but not slowly and carefully enough. (Haste) It slipped from my outstretched right fingers and thudded to the floor. Pause. (Waste) Can you picture the next step? Of course, the cover is off, lying next to an overturned cylindrical oatmeal box, with dry, lightweight, granular oatmeal in a heap. Ok, now think what you’d do. Pause. Nope, I can’t go get a broom and dustpan. Nope, I can’t drop to the floor to scoop up what’s there. Nope, I can’t go grab a vacuum. My only recourse was to get out the wastebasket, a piece of stiff cardboard, a spoon, and a small flat-edge device. Let’s just say that the cleanup was a slow process with many repeated moves. The worst part is that I didn’t do this once, but twice. Argh! These days I am REALLY cautious to get a firm grip on that oatmeal box.
  • The worst was the time that I got up during the night to use the bathroom. Upon careful reflection, there are three steps I might have short-circuited; I’m just not sure. Bottom line, it was dark and I had a controlled fall from the height of 24” (bed and wheelchair seat height). I was holding my transfer board and the far wheelchair arm as I transferred and felt myself go down to the floor. I broke my femur but it took 4 days to realize something was wrong and a week to realize there was a broken bone that needed treatment. I’ve been transferring for a couple years so it shouldn’t have been a problem. But, once again, any action not extremely cautiously executed can be dangerous. Haste makes waste.
  • Driving: I’m beginning to feel like the hand control for acceleration and braking is becoming automatic. Thankfully. But, the wheelchair I carefully position to get ONTO the driver’s seat MUST be in the same position at my destination in order for me to get OUT of the drivers’ seat. Any quick acceleration, sharp turn, or very firm braking can tip the chair backwards or shuffle it out of position. I’ve found that if I leave the transfer board on the wheelchair, it can slip off the chair or exacerbate the chair’s movement. So, another step – sliding the transfer board into the magazine pouch built into the back of the passenger seat. I also need to securely lock both wheels to help keep the chair in place. Guess how I learned I needed the extra step of sliding the board into the seatback pouch? On occasion I also forgot to lock BOTH wheels. Thankfully in both situations, there were people at my destination that I could call out to for some help once the ramp was lowered. Any haste in the steps makes waste.
  • There are countless times I have tried to open a door, drawer, appliance, or go through a doorway without making all the adjustments and checks before that move. Bang. Think of a three-point turn in your car. A three-point adjustment to my positioning would be ‘short.’ In order to get close to a wall or cabinet, I roll forward and back repeatedly in short, narrow, angled adjustments to get close enough to minimize damage from banging, scratching, or gouging surfaces.

So, the haste makes waste adage from my Dad is a daily reminder to just plain accept the extended time I need for everyday tasks. I’m thankful that I CAN make these adjustments in my own wheelchair and have good use of hands and arms to help maintain the independence I do enjoy. Appreciate your own blessings of mobility.

Shalom, Collenes

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I Only Wish It Were Fiction

Sometimes people doubt that what they read in fiction could be true. Who would really do that? I only wish the following were not true. Unfortunately, they are.

My husband and I decided to go to the Coast Guard Festival but went the opening morning even though the real action and fun occurs weekends. Experience taught us the scarcity of parking spots for a handicapped [H] vehicle, especially one designed for vans which provide space to lower the wheelchair ramp. Obviously, any town with a Coast Guard Festival is on the water and already very popular.

We arrived and immediately went to the parking area set aside for [H] vehicles near the channel. Nope, that section was closed and instead held enough proverbial junk food trailers to keep several dentists in business. Everyone needs an “elephant ear” sugar-laden pastry at a festival, right? The alternate [H] parking area was not indicated in any way we noticed. However, we knew of out-of-the way, overflow parking tucked between the state park camping and the channel. We were delighted to find a [H] spot and it even had the slashed line section for vans. Our lucky day!

After enjoying a taste of the festival (not literally), we headed back to our van. Here is where it got interesting. A car with a [H] hangtag was parked next to our car but it was parked half in their spot and half on the slashed space. (Infraction) Luckily we were in angled parking so we hoped our lowered ramp, at this angle, could avoid their front bumper. My husband and I came around the back of our car, him holding out his fob about to push it and lower the ramp and me rolling up. Oops, in the slashed space that remained, the car occupants had set out their lawn chairs and were watching the boats going through the channel. They could have set their chairs on the sidewalk in front of their car but chose not to do that. (Rudeness) As they saw us, the woman asked if she should move. (Duh) We thanked her. Her husband stayed planted on his chair. The ramp was lowered, barely missing Mr. Rude, and I maneuvered my way back and forth so I could manage to position my chair to get up the ramp while avoiding damaging their vehicle. “You know,” I bravely and cautiously commented, “you really shouldn’t be parked on the slashed lines. That’s for ramps.” “Oh,” quipped Ms Rude, “it’s hard for my husband to park.” I bit my tongue and refrained from saying, “Well, it’s hard for us to lower the ramp without hitting your vehicle, leaving a crease in the metal, or rolling around the end of the ramp without gouging your car.” Sometimes it’s better to take the high road.

If only that were the only incident.

It takes arriving early and often driving around to find a [H] spot designed for a van. We appropriately park next to the slashed lines either straight in or backed in, dependent on which side the extra, slashed space is. Imagine our surprise and consternation to return to our van, not once but twice (!!), to find another car sandwiched between the two legally parked cars, right on top of the boldly, slashed lines! The first time we saw this we were stunned! My husband backed the car out into the drive area blocking traffic where we could, as quickly as possible, lower the ramp and get in. The second time, we were fed up and prepared. I now have the local police number programmed in my phone. I called the dispatcher to report the situation. She said a squad car would be there within 20 minutes. As promised, the car arrived in about 18 minutes; blocked traffic in the busy parking lot; prepared to write the ticket for the offending car; and said we could safely pull out, load up, and leave. Thankfully, my husband could drive. If it had been only me, even with the offending car ticketed, I would have had to wait for the offensive driver to return. On both cases, the car was so tightly parked that I can’t imagine how the driver or passenger could squeeze out. Having it towed would have been the other option. (More expensive) If the rude people had just arrived and were doing some shopping and dining over a lovely meal in this quaint mall, I would have been at their mercy. This was a repurposed, fishing cannery. It had obviously been grandfathered and had not upgraded their restrooms to ADA requirements. The stall in the mall bathroom marked ‘handicapped’ would not even allow my wheelchair to enter, let alone have the door close. Yes, I reported that to the manager of one of their restaurants. Yes, he had heard the complaint before and would pass it along -again- to the establishment management.

What can be done?

  • I believe we all need to advocate for what is right.
  • Don’t park in a marked handicap spot unless you have documented and current accessibility needs.
  • Even if you do have a tag to hang on rear-view mirror or permanent [H] license plate, use van-marked spots ONLY if you need one or it is the only spot left.
  • Call police if you see offenders. The police need to see the car incorrectly parked. A photo of the car, its license plate, and the sign are not enough.
  • Never use a tag unless it was given to you by a doctor and then for only as long as it is needed. Never share it with others. It is abuse; it is illegal.
  • It is illegal to misuse handicapped spots. Penalties range by state but are up to $1,250, 6 months in jail, and 50 hours of community service.

Hats off to Texas where Park Houston trains volunteers to monitor and write tickets for those who abuse handicap parking spots.http://www.houstontx.gov/parking/volunteer.htm

Count your blessings. Shalom, may all be well with you. Collene

Wheels on a Cruise

Wheels on a Cruise

Many readers might wonder what it’s like to experience a cruise in a wheelchair. After two cruises on two different cruise lines, I will share my experience. I am not an expert but these are my insights after more than a half dozen cruises, two in a wheelchair.

Getting on and off:

  • Handicap guests complete a form noting specific needs prior to sailing. Ship staff provided everything I noted on that form with the staff on the second cruise even including the bed top at chair level. That was huge! [High bed tops typically found in handicap hotel rooms remove independence from those in wheelchairs.]
  • Parking was convenient & nearby – no need to use a bus to get from the parking to the ship.
  • Staff was visible to help and expedited lines to ease weaving through the intense congestion.
  • Staff was helpful getting me up and down gangplanks when they were not ADA compliant (narrow and steep).

Ship:

  • Longer cruises attract older cruisers.
  • The staff was more than accommodating and always gracious.
  • There were definitely others on both cruises with mobility handicaps.
  • Needs of those in wheelchairs fell in two categories:
    • Necessary: Birth defects such as cerebral palsy (CP), disease such as multiple sclerosis (MS), amputee, spinal cord injury (SCI), etc.
    • Convenient: People who can stand and walk but it has become problematic due to heart, brain, breathing, ambulatory issues, etc.
  • Cruising was convenient because once settled in our room, there was no need to cart around suitcases which are impossible to carry, hold, or wheel.
  • Both cruise ships were around 2,500 passengers. I would consider these to be medium size ships. Both seemed optimal for size. I believe a larger ship would be more difficult to move around. Rolling from bow to stern or stern to bow can be a long trip, especially if necessary multiple times per day.
  • Anyone who likes to gamble can rest assured that casinos can quickly be located due to the smell of stale smoke and a blue haze in the air as one gets close.
  • Most ship floors were carpeted which was never easy. Some of the hallways had hidden dips which threw the chair to one side then the other so I sometimes looked like a drunken sailor. Both ships had a floor that had an outdoor walkway from bow to stern. This was a hard surface and much easier to navigate.

Stateroom:

  • Rooms were larger to accommodate a wheelchair plus provide the ability to wheel around room and bathroom. Note: anyone who needs a scooter or wheelchair for convenience must keep it in ones room. None can be left in hallways.
  • Bathrooms were uniquely designed with a roll under sink, no curb to the shower, a fold down bench, and flexible (reachable) showerheads.
  • The first cruise line had a special stateroom entry door. When pushed, it continued to open and stayed open for about 30 seconds when it slowly closed on its own or it would close with a gentle nudge. The other cruise had a heavy door which was difficult to open unassisted.
  • Even handicapped rooms were carpeted which surprised me.
  • Most passengers in common walkways were accommodating of the chair and moved to the side. Not all, however.
  • Rooms near an elevator were more efficient. Our room on one ship was about midway between two elevators. Since hallways were carpeted, that repeated trip was difficult.

Shows:

  • Shows were accessible only on the main level, not from the balcony level. Our most recent ship had two accessible areas, one near each entry door. The one had an area free of fixed seats where one could bring a wheelchair. The problem was that the fixed chairs in front of us were high, thus blocking the view of the stage. The other was an area that accommodated about 3 wheelchairs, scooters, or companions on available folding chairs. The view from there was unobstructed and nearby fixed chairs were available and marked for companions.
  • The MC announced prior to each show that the seats marked for handicapped were to be respected. Not surprisingly, there were typically some who loved the convenience of the area and sat there anyway. I was often reminded of a posting I saw once from another SCI acquaintance, “Stupidity does not qualify as a handicap for reserved parking” (or seating).

Dining:

  • Dining was accessible. One cruise had assigned tables and staff removed a chair. The other cruise had flexible seating hours and locations. Staff was excellent about helping push me across the carpet which tended to be the thickest on the ship and also removed a chair to provide space.
  • We preferred to eat in a dining hall and enjoy the service. Cafeteria style eating was more difficult. I would need to rest a plate precariously on my lap. On one cruise, staff would notice and offer to help me. On the other cruise, either my husband or I needed to ask for assistance. The thing I learned quickly was that staff wants to be very generous with helping sizes. Even requests to scoop a very small amount resulted in medium to large scoops which culminateded in an over-heaping plate for me and an awful lot of waste. It’s possible that the language was a barrier.

Excursions:

  • We did not find one accessible excursion on either cruise. Some excursion descriptions noted that customers needed to get into the bus or van independently or with assistance. One trip was advertised as completely handicap accessible for those in wheelchairs. Both cruise lines had a designated phone line serviced by staff trained in handicap needs and facilities. I called the special line twice, speaking with two different people who both assured me that this particular excursion was, indeed, a good solution for me, a paraplegic. It was not. The on-board cruise staff had all my information regarding handicap needs. Even though they knew it was not accessible, they made no effort to notify us ahead of time. We only learned by chance the night prior to the excursion. When we asked, they promised to refund our money by mail but there was no effort on their part to make up for it.
  • Some but not all ports have a place for those in wheelchairs to get off and explore at least a bit. Some allow direct access into town and others have a small area with shops in which to browse. By observation, these occur either in very large cities or in more remote docking areas where local vendors or cruise lines build small shops and a simulated taste of the island or country.
  • Any port that requires tending off the ship (using smaller boats to get to land from an anchored ship) is not wheelchair accessible.
  • There remains a lot to do on a cruise ship even if one cannot get off. Be sure to bring books to read.

All things considered, cruising provided wonderful experiences.

Tears

Here we were on this lovely cruise. We were well fed, well taken care of, in an accessible room, relaxed, sunning, entertained, reading, … But, yet, as I read my book, I was tearing up for the second day. The book was historic fiction set near the end of the Civil War and slavery, written from the viewpoint of the slaves. I have read plenty of books about slavery, slave trade, Nazi suppression of Jews, Dutch suffering when caught for hiding the Jews, Japanese Internment camps, Native American suffering based on the US government’s broken promises and white western expansion, … lots of books about some of the worst examples of humanity. Why were the tears continuing to stream down my cheeks while reading this book, I wondered?

The slaves in this book kept supporting each other with promises from God. Promises like “his eye is on the sparrow” sustained those who were suffering. They had faith that, in the end, God would provide Glory. Eventually it dawned on me. Now that I am living in a wheelchair, I feel imprisoned in a body that no longer works. I have a small sense of what it must have felt like for slaves. In a way, I was like them with no way out of my paralysis, here through no personal choice, benefiting from the love of family who also had no ability to change my situation, … I thought I had always felt empathy for others. What I felt in the past wasn’t as real as it was now to feel the pain of others in similar groups.

Maybe the worst hurt came when I realized that a then-Presidential candidate was mocking others with handicaps like me. Not only did he think it was funny and ok to mock us (or anyone), but he did it while trying to impress and earn the support from voters who also thought it was ok. And, it wasn’t only those of us with handicaps but other groups were purposely targeted and disenfranchised.

Another realization was “in my face.” There was not one excursion off the ship in any of the six countries included on the ship itinerary that was wheelchair accessible. I was told by ship staff that one particular city we visited, of over a million people, did not have one bus in the city that was accessible. How challenging it must be for those with handicaps in such countries. It made me grateful for the many people before me who fought long and hard for the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and Housing and Urban Development’s (HUD) Fair Housing Act (FHA). I also wondered what America some people wanted us to go back to when America was greater than it is now. Prior to ADA or prior to more fair civil rights?

I am reminded of Margaret Mead, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” I pray for America, Americans, and our leaders. Jesus ate with Samaritans and tax collectors. Our command is to love others as ourselves. Isn’t that how we work to help His will be done on earth as it is in Heaven?

Give thanks for your many blessings.

Shalom, Collene

Joy Through the Eyes of a Child: Who Just Happens to Have a Mobility Disability

 

Recently my husband and I were privileged to attend Stroll n’ Roll, a fundraiser and fun activity for Spina Bifida. Stroll n’ Roll, as I understand, was originated by two young moms who learned up close and personal what Spinal Bifida was all about. In a bit over a half dozen years, this event grew to what we witnessed and participated with. The event was moving, and I’ll share it through my impressions and recurring memories.

  • Hmmm, interesting:
    • We walked into a large, banquet room filled with hundreds of people of all ages, knowing, but not visually noticing, that it involved families living with spina bifida.
    • We were in the outstanding Frederick Meijer Gardens venue and were able to enjoy the gardens, sculptures, and thousands of fall mums. The most striking sculpture was the enormous Da Vinci Horse Statue.
    • A table of red t-shirts noting “ADJUST BELIEVE OVERCOME REDEFINING SPINA BIFIDA” with the JUST BE ME lined up vertically in the center of the wearer’s chest.
    • Vendors proudly participating in the event with samples of their products but also with their families present.
    • A nurse telling me she has participated for years with her personal children because at work, she sees the children at their lowest. Here, she sees them healthy and having fun.
  • So fun:
    • Boys about 2nd to 4th grade clad in new, red t-shirts greeting each other with huge smiles as only children can when they see another child who they may have just met or may have seen over the years.
    • Knowing one of the boys who is walking has spina bifida and an obvious friend his age in a wheelchair also with spina bifida.
    • One of the boys doing wheelies and balancing joyfully and proudly on his large, rear wheels.
    • Moments later 4 red, t-shirted boys gathered, chatting, smiling.
    • Young children with lights flashing on their wheels like one sees on some children’s shoe soles.
    • Wheelchair Michigan, proudly wearing her sash and ornate dress, rolling around the room, introducing herself for the award she had won and explaining her ambassador role. She told me she happens to have spina bifida as well but goes around the state greeting people and letting them know that life goes on for people in wheelchairs. (Example of her cutting the ribbon for a new beach access sidewalk: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lO_iTiaVTI0)
    • A buzz in the room of lots of chatter, laughter, kiddos moving about the room comfortably, obviously well used to moving themselves around with their wheelchair, leg braces, or other methods.
  • Most tender sight:
    • A young child of about 2 years pushing the back of his (apparently) older sister’s wheelchair down the hall.
  • Signs of brighter times:
    • Sunshine breaking through the drizzle as we headed out, with my husband and I purposely holding back to watch the excited youngsters and their support groups heading out.
    • Lining up with about a hundred others to roll or stroll about the gardens with the other families and friends, unable to keep from smiling as I watched the kiddos with their flashing wheels and chairs touched with individualizing color and sensing their excitement.
    • Rolling as quickly as I could with my power assist wheels just to keep up with the scores of people who were in the line that began to stretch and thin out a bit. I recall feeling determined NOT to fall behind.
    • A group of probably 20-30 people of all ages, dressed in t-shirts proudly noting the name of the child they were there to support all gathered around and dwarfed by Da Vinci’s Horse.
  • Funniest memory:
    • Hearing a voice behind me say, “keep going, we’re falling behind that old lady.” It didn’t take much checking in my peripheral vision to note my grandmother wasn’t walking with me and they just might be talking about me.

Watch for your blessing in the eyes and smiles of our little ones.

Shalom, Collene

A Challenge & Van Gogh: First Anniversary

Yesterday marked the first year anniversary of our amazing Van Gogh. Because of the gifts of NMEDA and the adaptation of BraunAbility and Clock Mobility to our Toyota Sienna, we have been blessed with a year of closer-to-normal abilities to get in the VAN and GOgh.

In the second half of that year, I have written the manuscript of an information text (children’s book) which is written from the voice of a child in the preschool years though HS graduation facing mobility challenges. The various, growing children (male/female; many physical causes; all races) are tackling and accomplishing many day-to-day as well as atypical tasks with the attitude of Sure, I Can. My challenge for this summer has been to find a publisher who will take a look at this manuscript and, hopefully, decide that it is worthy of publication. I know this is a concern of families of children who are impacted and holds a powerful message for all educators and all people who come into contact with persons with mobility challenges. (Read: everyone!!) I need an illustrator and a publisher. I know they are out there. We just need to get connected.

Just this week I learned about a young grandchild of precious friends who has one of the diseases addressed in Sure, I Can and will be facing mobility challenges. This is a message his parents, siblings, and those who love him need to read.

God Moments 1 ~ Mini

At the 2-year mark, post accident I decided it was time to share a bit more of the first days, week, and months, given the years of reflection and the healing of time. I decided I would do that through many God Moments that helped uphold us. However, a celebration blog and other important projects kept me from getting to those blogs. I’m now moved to start those but I’m kicking this off with a present-day one, and then I’ll periodically bring out the earlier ones.

This Sunday morning began with the local weather news showing a nasty band of storms with intense lightning strikes heading our way and projecting to hit just the time we typically leave for church. Remember, being in a wheelchair, which requires two hands for propelling my chariot, leaves NO hands for umbrella protection from rain so rain typically dictates we stay inside. Well, by time we were both ready for church, we had missed the window for getting to Van Gogh before the rain began. This wasn’t just a MI rain storm. This was coming down in torrents. Sitting by our open condo door, I determined I needed to stay home but just then, it slowed a tad so we decided to head out. I was most thankful for our incredible condo board members here who, despite already having the ADA required access to the raised entry sidewalk, recognized that it was across a large, open, exposed parking lot. They took it upon themselves after my accident to add a second ramp which allows me to get between the raised sidewalk to our garage with only a very short area without a covered walk and exposure to the elements, i.e. soaking rain.

Once we arrived at church, we secured one of the coveted van/ramp, blue slashes, accessible parking spots and decided to wait 15-20 minutes hoping for the rain to slow. It was getting close to the start of church and the rain let up only a bit but my husband exited Van Gogh, raised the huge golf umbrella, and came around to where the ramp comes down. The look on his face changed but was unreadable to me. I pushed the button to lower the ramp and realized his look. The water right where the ramp landed was in about 3-4 inches of fast flowing water. A quick look down at my wheels assured me that the wheels would hold me above the water, even if not the hand rims, so down I went and continued to move through the falling rain rather than sit in the rushing water while Alan pushed the button to raise the ramp and close the van door. I looked up to see two angels walking toward me from church in the form of two friends holding their own huge, golf umbrellas. They were able to keep me from getting soaked between the van and the door overhang. Mini God Moment.

As was typical, the service was worshipful and harmonized from the words of preparation through the postlude. The final message in the series on Nehemiah, Restoring Purpose, the Power of Rubble Restored, reminded me of my focus word this year, purpose. Our minister of music and his (guest) brother added richness with their musical talents on piano, organ, blended voice, and trumpet. They sang the hymn of response, Blessings by L. Story, as a dialogue between a typical person’s words and God’s response.

Revised chorus text:

Your blessings come through rain drops. (just this morning)

Your healing comes through tears. (many in the last two+ years)

A thousand sleepless nights (can’t count the number my husband has had)

Are what it takes to know I’m near.

 

Person’s voice in final verse:

What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life

Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy.

What if trials of this life

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights

Are your mercies in disguise.

 

Watch for your disguised blessings.

Shalom: May all be well, Collene

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