Difficult Seasons

When we have suffered a loss and as we move through the grieving that follows, we often express in words what we’ve lost.

Twitter Post by Karen Putz

I was reminded that sometimes how we describe our loss surprises others when I saw this Twitter post by Karen Putz (@deafmom) earlier this week.  Karen’s dad has esophageal cancer, and hasn’t really been able to eat normally for the last couple of months.  So in retrospect, his response to the doctor is right on, but it probably surprised everyone when he said it.

As we’re grieving a loss, we tend to express that loss in ways that are highly personal to us — in ways that truly describe what we miss dearly, and would like to have back.  It’s part of the longing for phase of grief.  Karen’s dad longs to be able to eat his wife’s cooking again — both because it’s good, and because that would mean that he’s dealt successfully with his cancer.

One of my favorite questions while visiting patients in the hospital has become, “What one thing are you praying for today?”

I ask that question for lots of reasons.  It helps me target my prayer with the person to pray specifically for what they want most that day.  There’s often a powerful connection between us as we join together in prayer with the words, “God, my prayer is _____ ‘s prayer.”  And it often provides an opportunity to talk about the real issue the person is struggling with that day.

Karen’s post reminded me of a recent visit.  When I first entered the room, most of my conversation was with the patient’s husband.  The patient was having some pain, and just wasn’t engaging.  But when I asked her if she’d like to pray, and specifically what her biggest request was, she jumped in and took over the conversation.  Her request was simple:  ”I want to be able to go back home and take care of my 101-year old mother, and help my sister get there so she can help.”  It represented both what she had lost, and what was important to her.  As we prayed together, she verbally reinforced my words with her “Amen’s” and “Yes, Lord’s.”

It was a special moment for all of us.  Her greatest desire had been heard and then expressed in prayer.

Karen’s post is one reason I’m active on Twitter — I’m always learning, and often being reminded of what’s important.  Asking good questions like Karen’s dad’s doctor did is important.

Thanks for the Twitter post, Karen.  And I am praying that your dad gets to eat your mom’s good cooking soon!

Deathbed confessions carry more weight in law than normal confessions.

That’s because we believe that a dying person has nothing to gain by telling a lie, and everything to gain by telling the truth.

The same logic also makes us pay special attention to words spoken to us from a dying person.

Lots of people became acquainted with Debutaunt (Deborah Greer-Costello) during her battle with cancer through the internet.  She blogged extensively about life and her illness.  Through her suffering, she attracted legions of followers, many becoming true friends who never met face-to-face in this life.  Deb often requested prayer, and her requests were quickly relayed through Twitter.

Here’s a handwritten note relaying one of those requests on Flickr.

Deb passed from this life on May 18, 2009.  But she had her final say — posted today by her sister Steph on her blog.  She knew she was dying, and she had a lot to say.

Give yourself a blessing today, and read Deb’s final post.

Just like I do 10 or 15 times on days I visit the hospital, I pushed the elevator button, and as the door opened and I stepped in, I made eye contact with the folks already there and asked, “How’s your day going?”

Usually there’s just some brief chit-chat about whatever, then the ride’s over for some of us, and we go about our business.

But this time, a woman I’d seen around the hospital for weeks met my eyes and said, “Not so good.  I lost my husband this morning.  We’re going up to the room to pick up my things.”

Words failed me.  And for good reason.  There was absolutely nothing I could say to help.  I knew it.  And she knew it.  So except for saying, “I’m sorry,” I said nothing.

We might tend to think this was a failed human interaction.  But I’d suggest to you that it wasn’t.

This woman, overwhelmed with her loss, chose to tell me about it.  Instead of just saying, “Okay.”

And as a result I’ve thought and prayed about her often since that day a few weeks ago.

We shared a few moments of life together.  And it had meaning.

I’m holding my breath.

As I’m writing this on Sunday night, I’m aware of an organization that tomorrow will go through staff layoffs.  I’m anxious for friends within the organization that might be laid off.  I’m also mindful of friends who will have the assignment to deliver bad news.  It’s going to be a difficult day for everyone concerned.

These are difficult times for lots of folks.  One of my twitter friends was called into a meeting Friday.  He’s a survivor, but noted that the parking lot will have empty spaces this week because others are not.

You also probably know people in organizations going through layoffs.

None of us are untouched, whether we’re directly affected or not.  We’re all grieving, whether we’ve lost our job, or friends or family have lost their job.

So tonight I’m holding my breath.  And praying.

A big Aha! occurred to me yesterday during one of my visits with a hospital patient.

I had been visiting for quite a while with a woman, recently diagnosed with an aggressive type of cancer, and with her husband.  We had talked a little about the disease, but part of what was going on was that they hadn’t received a final diagnosis and treatment plan from the doctors yet, so there was anxiety about that.  And of course they were both still in shock that this was happening to them.

It was interesting that during the conversation, I’d ask the wife a question to give her the opportunity to talk about how she was doing with all of this, and before she could get started good, her husband would jump in and divert the conversation.  I could tell that she wanted to be able to tell me, and I could also tell that her husband didn’t want to see the pain that she might express — the purpose of his interruption.  So we talked lightheartedly about what was going on.  And he kept doing the same thing.

So as our visit reached the time for prayer, I looked to the woman, and saying her name, asked, “I want to know what you would like to pray about.”  And then I made eye contact with her husband to make sure he understood, and he did.  And here’s where the aha! came in:  when she hesitated a moment, I asked, “What is the one thing that is your biggest concern right now, the one thing we can pray about?”

Immediately, and with a voice full of emotion, she said, “Being able to deal with whatever comes.”

She had just named her biggest fear, the thing that she was struggling with most at that moment.  And the emotion in her voice told her husband and me how important that fear was, and how important it was to her to be able to say it out loud.

So that fear was what we prayed about, thanking God for His presence, and asking His help in dealing with whatever comes.

It’s a great privilege to pray with someone, and I want to do it in a way that honors both God and the person I’m praying with.  So I made a mental note to ask more often about the one thing people would like to pray about, the big thing they’re struggling with at that moment.  Praying specifically about the one big thing may be more meaningful for someone than praying about several more general needs and desires.