I'm home sick (again) for the next two weeks, Natalee tagged me, so I thought, what the hey. Here it goes.
Rules:
List 3 joys, 3 fears, 3 goals, 3 current obsessions/collections, 3 facts about yourself. Tag 5 people at the end of your post by leaving their names. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog!
Joys:
1. The perfect cookie at the perfect time with the perfectly chilled glass of milk.
2. Being with my family at the beach.
3. The temple.
Fears:
1. Becoming so self-absorbed in my own problems that I forget about others.
2. Losing my parents.
3. The world suddenly running out of cookies.
Goals:
1. Develop better recall of the things I read.
2. Perfect Kate's cookies.
3. Get well enough to run a race by the end of the year.
Current obsessions/collections:
1. I picked up my mom's habit of keeping every spare button I come across.
2. Cookies.
3. Writing in my journal.
Facts about myself:
1. You make me cookies, I be your friend.
2. My house is always immaculate, my room a complete disaster.
3. I love deeply.
Um, I tag Cherie, Ali E., Kim W., Janey, and Melinda S. But you don't have to if you don't want to.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Pure Religion
For years I've had this dream of serving a humanitarian aid mission. I remember when I first filled out my mission papers, I hoped and hoped that they would call me to serve as a humanitarian missionary rather than a proselyting missionary. Not that I didn't want to share the gospel with people, but I really felt a strong desire to bring physical comfort and hope to people. I wanted to prepare them physically so that they could be fed spiritually. I didn't end up serving a full-time humanitarian mission for the church, but it is a not-so-secret hope that at some point in my life I am asked to devote the majority of my time serving those in need, instead of spending only nights and weekends here and there after a long day or week of work. While I am happy to do it, I look forward to the time when I have the capability of doing even more.
Today I toured Welfare Square and the Humanitarian Aid Facilities in Salt Lake City. I've had lots of experience serving in the bishop's storehouse, donating time to the cannery, etc. but never have I seen it on the scale that it operates on here. The bishop's storehouse is enormous. The second we stepped out of our car, I could smell the baking bread, ready to be sliced and packaged for distribution to the poor and needy. There in welfare square, all the temporal needs of an unemployed, poor, needy individual can be met. Their spiritual needs can be met as well. Some of the things that impressed me the most:
There isn't enough room to talk about how I feel about the various relief kits available. There are palates of materials called an "orphanage module" and another one that's a relief module. Then there are newborn kits, hygiene kits, school kits, cleaning kits, wheelchair initiatives and donations, Atmit production (a porridge-like substance malnourished children are able to digest), health services provided in third-world countries, and the list goes on and on. I fought back tears of emotion throughout the day as I considered the products the church produces, their quality, and their determination to give freely while helping the recipients to become self-relaint and teaching them to give back in service. The church's purpose is to attend to the sick and the afflicted, to improve the quality of physical life so that eventually they can be fed spiritually. I thought about the millions of lives that are affected by this...and that's when the tears really came.
The process is so streamlined, and yet so individual. The relief kits that go to one country are different than what goes to another country. The food will be different. The clothing will be different. You have to see it to really grasp the magnitude of it all. It makes me want to give all my money, all of my time, and everything with which I have been blessed to contribute. Both Welfare Square and the humanitarian aid center are full and busy, but the Spirit is special and very strong there. It was a strong and needed reminder of what I really need to be focusing on. I can get so easily distracted by the things in life that don't really matter. But helping the poor, helping the needy, helping those affected by tragedy--not only abroad but my neighbors as well...that is where my focus needs to be. I need to emulate the Savior's example. I need to be better. I am going to be better.
If you are looking for ways to contribute to LDS Charities, feel free to poke around on this website. They really are doing amazing things. It's Pure Religion.
Today I toured Welfare Square and the Humanitarian Aid Facilities in Salt Lake City. I've had lots of experience serving in the bishop's storehouse, donating time to the cannery, etc. but never have I seen it on the scale that it operates on here. The bishop's storehouse is enormous. The second we stepped out of our car, I could smell the baking bread, ready to be sliced and packaged for distribution to the poor and needy. There in welfare square, all the temporal needs of an unemployed, poor, needy individual can be met. Their spiritual needs can be met as well. Some of the things that impressed me the most:
- The church has five transient bishops called just to serve at welfare square. In the LDS church, a bishop is the steward of his congregation, both temporally and spiritually. When a member is in need of food, a job, or other temporal assistance, he or she meets with the bishop to determine the need and together they make a plan to fill that need. Five bishops serve here because 80-100 people per day come in off the street into this particular bishop's storehouse for food and/or clothing. The majority of walk-ins are not members of our church, and no one is turned away. All are expected to serve in exchange for the assistance they receive. Some serve at the storehouse, some serve at D.I.
- Deseret Industries is the church's thrift store. The one at welfare square is the biggest one I've ever seen. Today I learned that 15% of clothing donated is kept in the D.I. stores; the other 85% is sent to the humanitarian center for distribution. Many people who work at D.I. are there to receive on-the-job training to prepare them for employment elsewhere. Some are U.S. citizens, some are refugees, some are immigrants. While they receive job training, those who need it also receive language training as well as application and interviewing skills. Last year they placed over 100 people in jobs. Many are not members of the church. I did not realize this until I walked past three muslim women hard at work behind the scenes. I felt a swell of emotion as I considered the church's philosophy on helping any in need, not just tithe payers.
- The grain silo on Welfare Square was built in 8 days during the Great Depression. This may not seem like a huge feat until you consider the fact that it holds 16 million pounds of grain. It's big. Real big.
There isn't enough room to talk about how I feel about the various relief kits available. There are palates of materials called an "orphanage module" and another one that's a relief module. Then there are newborn kits, hygiene kits, school kits, cleaning kits, wheelchair initiatives and donations, Atmit production (a porridge-like substance malnourished children are able to digest), health services provided in third-world countries, and the list goes on and on. I fought back tears of emotion throughout the day as I considered the products the church produces, their quality, and their determination to give freely while helping the recipients to become self-relaint and teaching them to give back in service. The church's purpose is to attend to the sick and the afflicted, to improve the quality of physical life so that eventually they can be fed spiritually. I thought about the millions of lives that are affected by this...and that's when the tears really came.
The process is so streamlined, and yet so individual. The relief kits that go to one country are different than what goes to another country. The food will be different. The clothing will be different. You have to see it to really grasp the magnitude of it all. It makes me want to give all my money, all of my time, and everything with which I have been blessed to contribute. Both Welfare Square and the humanitarian aid center are full and busy, but the Spirit is special and very strong there. It was a strong and needed reminder of what I really need to be focusing on. I can get so easily distracted by the things in life that don't really matter. But helping the poor, helping the needy, helping those affected by tragedy--not only abroad but my neighbors as well...that is where my focus needs to be. I need to emulate the Savior's example. I need to be better. I am going to be better.
If you are looking for ways to contribute to LDS Charities, feel free to poke around on this website. They really are doing amazing things. It's Pure Religion.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Moving right along...
Nothing like an illness to make you feel like the most boring person in the world. I feel like the only thing I am capable of conversing about is the state of my health, my energy level, my disability paperwork, my weight loss from a week without food, etc. etc. etc. I am boring myself. Apologies to all who have had to listen, especially to the details that didn't seem so gross in the hospital but become completely disgusting in normal, civilized company.
I figure if I get it out of my system, by the time I return from my real two week vacation (starting Friday night) I might actually have something other than the above details to converse about. So I've decided to give the highlights of the last two weeks. Feel free to skip this week's confession...heaven knows I wish I could.
My thoughts on narcotics:
Just say no to drugs, kids. The narcotic level of the first few days of my hospital stay was heavy for me, a squeaky clean Mormon kid who has a hard time convincing herself that Advil is necessary after an 18 mile run. My memories of the emergency room are fairly foggy post-drugs, as is my first full day after being admitted to the hospital, the first day I ended up in the cardiac ward, and the day of my procedure, all of which involved narcotics. In fact, they think it was the narcotics that slowed my heart rate to the 35 bpm that landed me in the cardiac ward in the first place. It took us two days to get it into the 40s. Talk about a hangover.
Anyway, the docs initially tried to tell me my plummeting heart rate was due to the fact that I am so athletic. Right. Honey, Lance Armstrong might hang out in the 30s, but let me tell you this: I ain't Lance Armstrong. Not even close.
My thoughts on medical procedures:
CT scans: okay. The contrast tasted like gatorade. All in all painless. Two thumbs up.
X-rays: okay. I got to watch the dog show while I was waiting. I hate dogs, but the show is always strangely fascinating to me. You can blame Cherie for this one. I had never seen it until our first Thanksgiving together... Anyway, the x-ray was Tom's favorite procedure, since they were looking for free air. Tom knows what free air is. Apparently he has an overabundance of it. However, the doctors did not find any in my x-ray. Shocking.
Colonoscopy: I have no words to adequately describe my detestation. Already dehydrated, already weak, the goLYTLY (if ever there were a misnomer...) did me in. I don't know that I've ever cried for four hours straight before. But there I was, sobbing in front of my friends as they tried to convince me that there were curly fries at the bottom of every glass. Bless Jane and Seth for the timely bestowal of Colin Golightly, who I clutched for the entire four hours. Bless Katie for the four hour backscratch. Bless Arianne and Melinda for reading me Wordsworth and telling me stories. Bless Dan and Ryan for yet another priesthood blessing.
My thoughts on health in general:
I don't know that I've ever been so aware of how good my health has been until this experience. Sure, I've experienced some injuries (all self-inflicted from running) but never have I had my general health so swiftly stripped away from me. Two weeks ago I was running 35 miles a week and swimming or biking every day as well. Now I struggle to walk a mile without getting tired. I'm getting stronger with each day (today I walked two miles), but I am certainly more aware of what a gift my body is. Plus, being surrounded by those much more ill than I was also a deeply humbling experience. For instance, in between visitors Sunday night (during the goLYTLY), my hospital roommate said through our curtain, "with the faith and prayers of your friends, you're going to be okay." This coming from a woman with congestive heart failure, diabetes, and cancer. I was humbled to be comforted by someone in so much pain with so little hope of regaining their own health. I have offered many prayers of gratitude for this experience.
Favorite hospital moments:
1. Snuggling in bed with friends, watching movies, having JenG bring all the jello, ice cream, and cookies we could eat (I was the jello eater...everyone else got ice cream, sandwiches, and cookies). In case you were wondering, the hospital beds can fit three people snugly. You just have to get a little friendly.
2. Jane's rendition of "Do as I'm doing."
3. "You don't want to spoon this."
4. Bekah's curly fries. (p.s. Dan took me to get some as soon as I was released)
5. Drunk-dialing both Katie and Dan to tell them about my procedure. When Katie called me later in the day and referred to some of the details, I asked who told her about it all. She responded, "You did, Julie." I have no recollection of placing that phone call. Good thing being Mormon protects me from this being a regular occurrence.
Serious/special hospital moments:
1. The two blessings I received were inspired, powerful, and the main reason I have made such a quick recovery. The doctors were amazed. I, however, was not surprised.
2. For such a traumatic experience, I felt God's hand in every step of the way. Miracle after miracle occurred. One night, I was planning on praying for strength and patience. I knew it was just a matter of time before my patience ran out and I cracked. However, as soon as I started praying, my heart swelled with gratitude and I found myself thanking God for this entire experience. The tears flowed freely and I felt an outpouring of His love for me. I felt that this whole thing was all on purpose, that God was teaching me some very important lessons because He loves me. I knew at that moment what I was supposed to be learning and then spent a very long time writing in my journal. I also knew that the recovery would be the most difficult phase for me...and I was right. It has tested my patience to the limit, has left me too much with my thoughts, too much time to think about and plan for a future that I know it's not time to think about yet. I have learned that I need to focus on this: recovery. And once that is done, it will be time to move onto the next phase. What that is, I don't know. But I trust God to make it known to me when the time is right. Keeping that under control, though, is a daily struggle. But I can do it. I am doing it. Look at me go!
And with that, let's put all this hospital nonsense behind us. I go to Utah tomorrow and then off to Mexico for a lovely beach and ruins vacation with Tommy Chucky Waa. Family love. Rock on.
I figure if I get it out of my system, by the time I return from my real two week vacation (starting Friday night) I might actually have something other than the above details to converse about. So I've decided to give the highlights of the last two weeks. Feel free to skip this week's confession...heaven knows I wish I could.
My thoughts on narcotics:
Just say no to drugs, kids. The narcotic level of the first few days of my hospital stay was heavy for me, a squeaky clean Mormon kid who has a hard time convincing herself that Advil is necessary after an 18 mile run. My memories of the emergency room are fairly foggy post-drugs, as is my first full day after being admitted to the hospital, the first day I ended up in the cardiac ward, and the day of my procedure, all of which involved narcotics. In fact, they think it was the narcotics that slowed my heart rate to the 35 bpm that landed me in the cardiac ward in the first place. It took us two days to get it into the 40s. Talk about a hangover.
Anyway, the docs initially tried to tell me my plummeting heart rate was due to the fact that I am so athletic. Right. Honey, Lance Armstrong might hang out in the 30s, but let me tell you this: I ain't Lance Armstrong. Not even close.
My thoughts on medical procedures:
CT scans: okay. The contrast tasted like gatorade. All in all painless. Two thumbs up.
X-rays: okay. I got to watch the dog show while I was waiting. I hate dogs, but the show is always strangely fascinating to me. You can blame Cherie for this one. I had never seen it until our first Thanksgiving together... Anyway, the x-ray was Tom's favorite procedure, since they were looking for free air. Tom knows what free air is. Apparently he has an overabundance of it. However, the doctors did not find any in my x-ray. Shocking.
Colonoscopy: I have no words to adequately describe my detestation. Already dehydrated, already weak, the goLYTLY (if ever there were a misnomer...) did me in. I don't know that I've ever cried for four hours straight before. But there I was, sobbing in front of my friends as they tried to convince me that there were curly fries at the bottom of every glass. Bless Jane and Seth for the timely bestowal of Colin Golightly, who I clutched for the entire four hours. Bless Katie for the four hour backscratch. Bless Arianne and Melinda for reading me Wordsworth and telling me stories. Bless Dan and Ryan for yet another priesthood blessing.
My thoughts on health in general:
I don't know that I've ever been so aware of how good my health has been until this experience. Sure, I've experienced some injuries (all self-inflicted from running) but never have I had my general health so swiftly stripped away from me. Two weeks ago I was running 35 miles a week and swimming or biking every day as well. Now I struggle to walk a mile without getting tired. I'm getting stronger with each day (today I walked two miles), but I am certainly more aware of what a gift my body is. Plus, being surrounded by those much more ill than I was also a deeply humbling experience. For instance, in between visitors Sunday night (during the goLYTLY), my hospital roommate said through our curtain, "with the faith and prayers of your friends, you're going to be okay." This coming from a woman with congestive heart failure, diabetes, and cancer. I was humbled to be comforted by someone in so much pain with so little hope of regaining their own health. I have offered many prayers of gratitude for this experience.
Favorite hospital moments:
1. Snuggling in bed with friends, watching movies, having JenG bring all the jello, ice cream, and cookies we could eat (I was the jello eater...everyone else got ice cream, sandwiches, and cookies). In case you were wondering, the hospital beds can fit three people snugly. You just have to get a little friendly.
2. Jane's rendition of "Do as I'm doing."
3. "You don't want to spoon this."
4. Bekah's curly fries. (p.s. Dan took me to get some as soon as I was released)
5. Drunk-dialing both Katie and Dan to tell them about my procedure. When Katie called me later in the day and referred to some of the details, I asked who told her about it all. She responded, "You did, Julie." I have no recollection of placing that phone call. Good thing being Mormon protects me from this being a regular occurrence.
Serious/special hospital moments:
1. The two blessings I received were inspired, powerful, and the main reason I have made such a quick recovery. The doctors were amazed. I, however, was not surprised.
2. For such a traumatic experience, I felt God's hand in every step of the way. Miracle after miracle occurred. One night, I was planning on praying for strength and patience. I knew it was just a matter of time before my patience ran out and I cracked. However, as soon as I started praying, my heart swelled with gratitude and I found myself thanking God for this entire experience. The tears flowed freely and I felt an outpouring of His love for me. I felt that this whole thing was all on purpose, that God was teaching me some very important lessons because He loves me. I knew at that moment what I was supposed to be learning and then spent a very long time writing in my journal. I also knew that the recovery would be the most difficult phase for me...and I was right. It has tested my patience to the limit, has left me too much with my thoughts, too much time to think about and plan for a future that I know it's not time to think about yet. I have learned that I need to focus on this: recovery. And once that is done, it will be time to move onto the next phase. What that is, I don't know. But I trust God to make it known to me when the time is right. Keeping that under control, though, is a daily struggle. But I can do it. I am doing it. Look at me go!
And with that, let's put all this hospital nonsense behind us. I go to Utah tomorrow and then off to Mexico for a lovely beach and ruins vacation with Tommy Chucky Waa. Family love. Rock on.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
We Interrupt This Blog ...
I would like to take a moment out of the normal course of storytelling and rumination to send out an impersonal but heartfelt thanks to all those who called, visited, prayed, fasted, etc. while I was in the hospital. I'm home now and am very tired, but happy to be on the road to recovery. Believe it or not, I am extremely grateful for this experience; it was exactly what had to happen at this point in my life to teach me some very important and timely lessons.
I have some hilarious stories from the week-long hospital stay (some I remember, some I don't - just say no to narcotics...) that will give me lots of blog fodder, but for now, I'd like to just say thank you as sincerely as I can. My heart and spirit have been touched deeply by the love I have felt.
Regular confessions will resume tomorrow.
And now, I'm going to take a nap.
I have some hilarious stories from the week-long hospital stay (some I remember, some I don't - just say no to narcotics...) that will give me lots of blog fodder, but for now, I'd like to just say thank you as sincerely as I can. My heart and spirit have been touched deeply by the love I have felt.
Regular confessions will resume tomorrow.
And now, I'm going to take a nap.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)