Courage – Page 52 – All It Takes Is A Little Love

The Long Run

Published on July 18, 2017July 12, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

120601_SN_runnersEX.jpg.CROP.rectangle3-large We live in a society of almost instant gratification. If we want a pizza we only have to make a phone call, send a text, or pull one out of the freezer. There are hundreds of television channels at our fingertips offering virtually any kind of viewing pleasure that we may seek. We receive almost instantaneous new alerts on our phones and have the power of capturing memories in photos with the click of those same technological wonders. While we accomplish other tasks we have machines that wash and dry our clothes, vacuum our floors and water our lawns. If we live in a smart home we don’t even have to walk to a light switch to illuminate our rooms, adjust the temperatures or show us who is knocking at our doors. Waiting is becoming more and more of a lost art in our daily lives and yet there are still remnants of frustratingly slow processes and situations that demand our patience.

I have to confess that I have never been particularly good at waiting. I possess a bonafide type A personality which makes me a control freak of the ultimate variety. In facing the realities of living I have had to learn how to curb my anxious and perfectionist tendencies and slow down my expectations for myself and others. Life does indeed march at its own pace whether or not I wish to move it along more swiftly. This truth becomes all too apparent in so many situations.

Like most people I was anxious to grow up and get on with life back when I was a young woman. I had a love/hate relationship with school. I actually enjoyed the classes that broadened my knowledge but desperately wanted to reach an endpoint. There were moments when earning a degree seemed so far away. I was exhausted from studying and so desirous of finishing, and yet it felt as though I wasn’t inching any closer than I had been before. I had to force myself to keep my eye on the prize because if I had followed the urges that often crept into my brain I would surely have chucked the whole thing.

The same has been true of so many life events. Illnesses have to run their courses. Finding a life partner is not something to be rushed. Climbing the ranks in a career takes as much patience as persistence. In fact most of our journeys are riddled with stops and detours that force us to slow down and dig deeply into our psyches for the strength to stay focused when we are not making a great deal of progress.

It is said that children who are willing to delay gratification are the most likely to be successful as adults. A famous psychological experiment gave little ones the choice of getting one marshmallow immediately or a whole bag if they were able to wait for an unspecified later time. The children who chose to forego the small treat for the larger one demonstrated the same self possession and fortitude as adults. To this day graduates of Stanford University traditionally toss marshmallows into the air to signify their ability to stay the course of hard work and study in pursuit of a reward far more significant than the temptations that might have drawn them from completing their educations.

It’s not that easy to teach our children how to develop patience but it is worth our efforts to do so. We can begin my modeling the behaviors that will help them whenever opportunities present themselves. We should show them how to set goals, perhaps beginning with those that may be accomplished in a relatively short time, and slowly but surely move the bar higher and higher until they are able to look far into the future and plan for the big dreams that they wish to pursue.

The same should be true of how to use money. I am as guilty as anyone of going for the quick fix of instant satisfaction. Instead we should train both ourselves and our children to create budgets and stay within them. We might help them to create categories for saving and spending and show them how to keep track of the ebb and flow of money. It is a lifeskill that will serve them well if they learn it when they are young. Far too many people enter adulthood without any conception of financial planning. Sadly most individuals end their work years without either savings or investments upon which to draw in emergencies.

I still lose my cool when I’m in a traffic jam even though I know full well that there is nothing I might do to change the situation. I despise the long waits in hospitals and doctors offices, wanting answers now rather than later. I grow weary of waiting for my plants to bloom again after a long and brutal winter. If I don’t lose weight in a week during which I have kept to a healthy diet I am all too tempted to just chuck my efforts and eat a huge piece of chocolate cake. Even as I tell myself that the world reveals all that I need to know at its own pace, my leg moves up and down with impatience. Being calm while carrying on is an art that must be reviewed and practiced again and again. Patience is a glorious virtue that we never seem to value as much as we should. Perhaps now more than ever in a world that sometimes appears to have gone mad it is the one trait that well serve us best of all.

So set your goals, pursue them and then find a quiet place in your soul where you may retreat when your anxieties tempt you to lose focus. Life really is a long run that requires endurance and a willingness to work through stress and pain. Those who learn how to stay in the marathon will ultimately win the race.

I Gotta Have Faith

Published on July 11, 2017July 9, 2017 by Sharron Burnett1 Comment

3437383987_3ab93e21d0_b It is seemingly becoming less and less popular to adhere to religious beliefs. We live in a world of great scientific knowledge that offers the possibility of precluding something as abstract as blind faith in a supreme being. To some the idea of God is primitive and silly, a concept that belongs to another era. Faith is intangible and never easy to explain. It requires a leap of trust that is both frightening and exciting. For those of us who are true believers it is impossible to consider a life without God, but for those who question His very existence those who depend on Him are foolish.

I recently had an extended conversation with a young woman who is not quite an atheist but who is tending in that direction. She finds it downright silly to think that there is some spiritual element watching over us. She posed the usual arguments about the hypocrisy and downright hatefulness of some religious sects as well as the observation that people suffer. She asked how a loving and generous God would be capable of simply watching as we humans struggle.

I have to admit that in spite of twelve years of Catholic education and a stint as a Director of Religious Education I was not particularly effective in counteracting her arguments. Saying that God gives us free will and does not interfere in our choices carried little weight with her. Nor did she accept the idea that we humans often impose our own thinking onto our religious institutions rather than adhering to the teachings of God.

I have long believed that as people we sometimes become a bit too enamored with religious rules rather than simply accepting the new covenant of Jesus that states that our focus should be on loving one another. I also think it more than likely that God has revealed himself to humanity in different forms to different cultures. Therefore it would be presumptuous of us to decide that one religious group is better than another.

We also forget the difference between faith and religion, too often equating the two. It is my faith in God that sustains me. My religion provides me with a vehicle for praising Him and reminding myself of His presence in my life. I cannot prove that He is real but I fully trust that He is constantly with me. I feel Him in my very soul, and I know for certain that His spirit has guided me for all of my life.

I seriously do not know how anyone who does not have faith in God is able to navigate the rocky roads of living. There have been so many times that I have felt as though the very ground beneath me was melting away and that I was in free fall. Being human is like that. Rarely does an individual have a lifetime without pain or suffering or loss. Without faith in God I would never have made it this far. Just when I sense that I am about to explode with negative emotion I sense His presence. He may not take away the challenges that I am facing, but He provides me with the strength that I need to face whatever is happening. I truly feel his arms embracing me, His fingers locking with mine. He is and always has been a best friend, a counselor and a consoler. I don’t have to see Him to know He is there.

Just a little more than a week ago my husband had a stroke. It was a terrifying time. Had my children and their families not been with me in that moment I am not sure how well I would have done. In retrospect I believe with all of my heart that it was God who provided me with the love and support that I needed. Call me foolish if you will, but I am convinced that this was His way of helping me. He continues with His merciful goodness even as we visit doctors and learn of the dramatic changes that this event will make in our lives.

I have never believed that God gives us everything that we want just because we wish it. We all have to face the realities of living in an imperfect world. His promise to us is not that we will never have to endure hardship, but rather that He will help us to do whatever we have to do at any given moment. If we do our best in this world, the perfection for which we all wish will one day be ours.

There are indeed religious sects that appear to have perverted the very word of God. They engage in self righteous behaviors and pretend to know who is beloved by the Lord. They inflict hateful and sometimes even violent dictates on their fellowmen. I pity them because I sense that they have misinterpreted the intent of God. I do not however presume to judge them because I will never really know what is in their hearts, or why they behave the way they do. It is not up to me as a fellow human being to inflict my own thoughts on others.

This is what I believe. In my own feeble way I attempt to model my faith from day to day. I don’t always succeed in being as good as I wish to be. I backslide, become jealous, say and do ugly things. I have to continuously ask for forgiveness both from people and from God. It is the way of things so I try not to be too hard on myself. Luckily my faith in God is so strong that I know without a scintilla of doubt that He never betrays or abandons me.

I see God everywhere. He is in the colors of the sky and my backyard. He is on the faces of the people that I encounter. He is in the remarkable human intellect that finds ways to heal and teach and feed and create and love. Our power as people does not come only from ourselves. It is from the spirit of God that lives within us. He always believes in us even when we do not believe in Him.

They Dance Alone

Published on July 10, 2017July 7, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

IMG_1914-e1373088974248 For days now They Dance Alone, a song from Sting, has been playing in my head. It begins with the words, Why are these women dancing on their own? Why is there sadness in their eyes? It refers to those who were widowed by the war of revolution, but it might apply to anyone who has lost a spouse.

I’ve always imagined that I have enough empathy to truly understand what it is like to lose that person who has been one’s best friend, soulmate, lover. I thought I had the concept down pat until my own husband had a stroke. Just seeing him become so vulnerable nearly brought me to my knees, and even though he is still with me I find myself constantly looking for him and listening to him breathe at night. Having him gone forever is unimaginable. I now know that I did not ever truly understand what it has been like for friends and relatives whose spouses or partners are already gone. I now feel the raggedness of the hole that punctures the heart. I think of those who dance alone constantly.

I remember the devastation that my mother endured after my father died. Only now do I think that I am moving closer to understanding the extent of her emotional breakdown. I find myself wondering how she found the strength to pull herself together. I suspect that it was only her love for her children that pushed her to rise up from the despair that she must surely have felt.

Not long ago I attended the funeral of a young man who once lived next door to me. I still think of him as a cute and friendly teenager who was always eager to help. He was far too young to die and his widow was bereft. I have since followed her on Facebook and she struggles every single day to continue without him. Now more than ever I somewhat comprehend what she is experiencing.

And so it goes. There is the young widow whose husband left on a business trip and never returned, the neighbor whose husband was sick for years but somehow overcame each challenge to his health, our dear friend whose wife died of cancer. There is my cousin whose husband passed just before Thanksgiving after years of fighting to survive heart failure, the colleague whose spouse finally fell victim to heart disease. I suddenly have a far deeper kinship with them. I feel the visceral attack that such an incident engenders.

I’ve also been thinking of the people that I know who are caring for spouses who are very very sick. A long time friend literally devotes every hour of every day to her husband who had a major stroke that left him unable to do anything for himself and attacked his brain so violently that he suffers from early onset of dementia. I have been watching the courage and grace of my son-in-law’s mom who has spent months visiting one doctor after another with her husband. Her life has been upended and yet she keeps a smile on her face and demonstrates a level of optimism that inspires everyone. Still another friend has been caring for a husband with Alzheimer’s for many years now. She literally has to plan for someone to be with him each time she leaves home. I also have a cousin who has been watching over her husband who has Parkinson’s disease for longer than I can remember. These women are so remarkable and before now I underestimated the love and devotion that they so generously share with their husbands. It’s so difficult to think of the fear that they have somehow managed to subdue as they watch their loved ones suffer through their illnesses.

The old saw that we sometimes see our lives flash in front of us is all too real. During the days since my husband’s stroke I have literally thought back on the first time that I met him when he was so handsome and enchanting and I got that tingle of love each time I saw him. I’ve had flashbacks of him holding our girls when they were babies. I’ve remembered the times when he helped me hold it together when my mother was very sick. I’ve relived every single trip that we ever took. It is as though the chronicles of our time together have played in my mind like a biographical movie. In my heart I have laughed and cried and always in the end I worry, which is sadly so much a part of my nature. I once again have been feeling that little tingle of unadulterated love just at the sight of him. I also find myself thinking of all of those people who dance alone.

I just attended a wedding in Cancun where two people began their lives together. They celebrated their love and I thought even then of how happy I was to be there with the love of my life. In just a little over a year we will have been married for fifty years. He has been the most important person in my world for so long now that it feels impossible to ever be without him.

I have great faith that his stroke was only a warning of what might be if we are not more careful. We will change our ways and do everything possible to help him to heal and become stronger. It will be a partnership as we work our way back to a healthy lifestyle. Our friends and family will be with us. Of this I am certain. We are surrounded by prayers and positive thoughts and love. Still I feel guilty that I never fully appreciated the gravity of loss until this moment. I was cavalier in believing that I was somehow so sensitive that I might comprehend what they were feeling. Now I know that I wasn’t even close. I need to send lots of love to the people whose hearts have been rent in two. I have to congratulate them on being so strong, often without the level of compassion that they really needed. Now I know why there has been sadness in their eyes. I feel how awful it must be to dance alone. I promise to remember them.

Our Time

Published on July 7, 2017July 7, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

There are moments in our lives that leave us without words. They body slam us to the ground and we find ourselves lost in a maelstrom of anxiety and confusion. We suddenly see clearly and yet feel unfocused and muddled. Time becomes so relative that it practically stops. We see the world around us acting as though everything is normal and we want to scream out, “Hey, don’t you know what just happened?” We’ve all had those kind of experiences and they are raw and visceral, hurting while making us just a tiny bit stronger even as we feel so vulnerable and weak.

This past week has been like that for me and my family who had gathered together in the beautiful Texas hill country to celebrate the freedoms and abundance that we so enjoy as citizens of the United States. We’d just had lunch on Monday and were laughing and talking and trying to decide what to do for the rest of the day when we heard a strange thumping on one of the doors. Once, twice, three times it interrupted us, and so my son-in-law Jeremy went to investigate at just about the time that we all heard my husband Mike’s voice weakly exclaim in a very slurred voice, “I can’t get up!”

Of course we all jumped to attention at that point realizing that he was behind the guest bathroom door and that something had gone terribly wrong. Thanks to the good thinking of my daughter Catherine there was a little key perched on the door frame that allowed her to open the locked door quickly. There we saw Mike lying on the floor lodged between the toilet and the vanity with his feet splayed in such a way that he was keeping us from opening the door all the way. It was his face that caused our hearts to stop, for his left eye and the corner of his mouth were noticeably drooping while he proclaimed that he thought that he was having a stroke.

I shouted for someone to call 911 and I think that my grandson Andrew responded first. Meanwhile son-in-law Jeremy had worked his way inside and managed to comfort and reassure Mike and pull him into a sitting position. Son-in-law Scott and grandson Jack attempted to remove the hinges to the door so that the EMTs would be able to get inside when they arrived, while Andrew, daughter Maryellen and I searched for Mike’s medical information from his wallet. Admittedly I also used this time to have a complete and total meltdown out of view of Mike. I didn’t want him to realize the depth of my concern so I let it all out so that I might recover quickly enough to show him a brave face.

Meanwhile all of the younger grandchildren, Ben, Eli, Ian, Abby and William were in the front yard waiting for the first responders to arrive, which they did very shortly. Those young men who emerged from the fire truck and the ambulance were a beautiful sight as they strode inside so confidently, ready to get down to the business of assessing Mike’s situation and rendering aid. By then the family crew had managed to get Mike situated in such a way that the opening to the small room was sufficient for the rescue workers to do their work.

After quietly taking control of the situation they had Mike safely ensconced in the ambulance with me in the front and Scott sitting in the back with the paramedic. By then all of the physical symptoms that we had seen in Mike had disappeared which was somewhat reassuring, but our fears had not abated as we raced to Methodist Stone Oak Hospital in San Antonio.

Soon Mike was in the care of the very professional emergency room team that included Dr. Mansur and nurse Alyssa, strong, compassionate and highly professional women who became my idea of perfect angels in that moment. Before long Maryellen, Catherine and Abby had arrived to sit with us as well. Mike smiled and mentioned how happy it made him to have all of his girls together.

By then his vital signs had stabilized and I suspect that his blood pressure was better than mine because I felt as though my heart was going to literally jump out of my chest. Still it was wonderful to hear him being his old self, laughing and joking with the medical personnel about being a Rockets fan rather than cheering for the Spurs. All of this was reassuring to all of us, but we were not yet ready to celebrate.

Hospital time is unlike that in the world outside its walls. It is a ritual of hurrying up and waiting. The wheels grind slowly, particularly on a holiday weekend when the staff is half of what it normally may be. We tried to remain patient as the medical personnel slowly but surely performed one test after another on Mike, all with great precision. Eventually they announced that he would be staying overnight for observation so that the various diagnostic procedures might continue in the morning. We reluctantly left feeling exhausted and confused.

The following day was a repeat of waiting endlessly. Mike demonstrated that his mental acuity was intact as he answered a question about the date by stating that it was July 4, 241 years since the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and then proceeded to quote the document. I can’t remember a moment when I was prouder of his knowledge or happier to see that it had not been destroyed.

It was well into the evening before the hospital discharged Mike instructing him to follow up with visits to his doctors and a neurologist. It seemed as though the whole city was celebrating the holiday and we had to pinch ourselves into the realization that the world was indeed still rolling along. Later we sat outside Catherine’s house and enjoyed fireworks displays that gave us a tiny bit of hope and the first moments of happiness that we had felt in the last forty eight hours.

I’ve made a long story a bit too long. We have all been left traumatized by the events, but we are trying our best to hold on to the fact that Mike is still here with us. We know how much worse this might have been. Our new reality for the moment is uncertainty filled with questions. Ours has been a frightening journey but we now know that we were never all alone. We have a renewed affection for first responders who toil almost unnoticed day after day until we need them. We have a great appreciation for the doctors and nurses who stand ready to help in emergencies. We realize the magnitude of the love that surrounds us from friends and family. We know that the road ahead will be different but we are ready to accept its challenges.

I’ve often written about the serendipitous nature of life. I’ve urged everyone to seize the day and embrace the love. After our most unusual week I realize that such thoughts are far more than mere platitudes. They are guideposts for living. We really don’t know what is in store for us from one moment to the next. We truly do need to stop long enough to see and appreciate the incredible beauty of life. It is more important than anything to express our love and our gratitude as soon as we feel it. None of us have the assurance that we will see another day. This, here and now, is our time and it is up to us to use it well.

Words As Weapons

Published on July 5, 2017June 27, 2017 by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

words-are-weapons “The tongue has no bones but is strong enough to break a heart. So be careful with your words.”

How often do we hear of words “killing” someone’s soul? Jesus tells us that gossip is like letting a bag of feathers loose in the wind. No matter how hard we try we are never able to get them all back. What we say has repercussions that are sometimes irretrievable. We know this and yet time and again cruel sentences leave our lips or end up floating in the ether on Twitter or Facebook. Sometimes this happens in a moment of anger but other moments are the result our intent to brutally harm someone with our most ugly thoughts. We say that sticks and stones can break our bones and words can never hurt us, but we know that this really isn’t true.

Sadly we read again and again of young people who are so harassed by their peers that they are driven to killing themselves. I suspect that none of the individuals who poke at someone and make them feel weak actually intend for harm to happen but all too often it does. I recently watched a program about a young woman who was recently found guilty of manslaughter for taunting a depressed friend into committing suicide. Texts on his phone showed that he was reluctant to take his own life, but eventually went through with it at the urging of this young lady who assured him that his family might grieve briefly, but would quickly get over their loss. When he admitted to her that he was scared to follow through on his plan she insinuated that he needed to man up. Eventually he did the deed. The jury felt that without the woman was complicit in his death because he was trying to back out, and she pushed him to follow through on what he had started.

While this is an extreme example of how words have the power of being lethal there are so many examples of youngsters whose confidence is ravaged by the horrific comments of their peers. It’s all well and good to teach our children how to ignore such behaviors, but we also must implore them never to be part of such destructive actions. We’ve all witnessed individuals who become the butt of jokes and sometimes we do so little to help them. It’s very difficult to stand up to kids who are popular or powerful, and yet we need to show our kids how to draw upon the courage to always do the right thing. We cannot sit back and watch the suffering of another even if it means losing our own place in the pecking order. Our children need to understand that they will ultimately be much happier if their own character is strong and just.

Most of the time none of us become involved in such extreme examples of using words as weapons, but we do sometimes say things to the people with whom we are the closest in the heat of a moment. We know their weaknesses and we charge ahead ready to hurt them with a little sting. We have to be very careful in such situations because once our barbs have landed we can’t really take them back. We would all do well to think before we speak and to consider the damage that our words may cause.

We seem to believe that we have a certain level of anonymity whenever we post comments on social media. We believe that out of the millions of words being slung around each moment there is little reason to think that ours will be noticed, but time and again people have lost jobs, tested relationships and angered friends over a snarky response, when the truth is that the only result that is likely to happen in such instances is to upset someone. We rarely change anyone’s opinion with our insulting remarks, so why would we take the risk of speaking out and possibly hurting feelings? I have literally cringed over the words that I have heard people express or seen them write.

We have almost unlimited freedom of expression in this country, but it is up to each of us to know when saying certain things goes beyond the pale. A joke about assassinating the president isn’t funny. Racist comments about those who are different from ourselves have no place in the public forum. While we cannot and should not restrict speech, it is up to each of us to monitor our own utterances and to consider the effects of what we say. Perhaps it is time to instruct our young in such things as well.

Words can be as sharp as any sword. They can mortally wound a soul. We really do need to watch what we say. Gossiping, lying, bullying, threatening, hurting should all be anathema to us. We would not point a gun at another human being, so why do we so blithely allow our words to sting? Whether we shout them or whisper them or write them down they should always be intended for the betterment of the people that we encounter, but never to tear them down.