Where is God?

No,  I’m not having a crisis of faith or asking some existential question.

This is a question I ask myself when things are particularly rough or difficult.  For instance, work is difficult and family stuff is difficult and will continue to be so for quite some time.  For the most part, I don’t mention specifics to too many people other than SIR, my personal Atheist or Sista girl (all three of whom, mind you, should be at the Integrity Eucharist on Sunday).

One particular session with my Spiritual Director, I vented for a few minutes about all these two different (but major!) stresses in my life.  She sat back and listened calmly and then asked the question as she sipped her tea, “so … where is God in all this?”  I replied that was a Very Good Question.

I’m not sure where God is, but I know that God’s there.  I mean as far as work goes, the issue stems from being overworked and the typical thing of having too much to do and not enough time or people to do them.  The people I work with are wonderful and we are all in this together.  So in one sense, I suppose God is in our little group as we are a community of sorts.   Even with the ever looming spectre of job losses or reshuffling or whatever, at the core of my self  underneath all the stresses is a lack of real anxiety.

For whatever reason, I’ve observed that no matter how stressful or just plain bad things get, everything just has a way of working out.

Now, for those who think this might sound a bit naive, I’m not talking about just sitting back on your haunches, God is on his throne in heaven and earth, and all is right with the world.  Hardly.

The point I’m making here is that God is not some genie-in-a-bottle that we pull out when things get tough and grants wishes.  If we’re faithful in doing our part, God will be faithful in doing God’s part … with the caveat, sometimes what God’s part is may not be clear or is usually not what we expect.

Prayers for Mom

Please pray for my mother.

Mom and Dad have been divorced for about a year or so, so Mom lives alone in rural North Carolina, where Sista girl and I grew up.  She’s a very young acting 57 and is a very social creature and has breakfast with a circle of friends just about every day.

Two weeks ago, I received a call from Sista girl late at night, saying she no one had heard from our mother for a few days.  She had been complaining about really bad headaches and had not been to breakfast with her “friend-girls” as she usually does.

Hearing the concern in Sista girl’s voice, I called the local police station who went to check things out and we also notified our grandmother.  Once they got in the house, mom was found in bed unconscious and unresponsive, but still breathing.  She was rushed to the local community hospital and placed in the Intensive Care Unit.  Sista girl and I flew down from New York as soon as we could the next day.  After the usual delays at the airport, on the runway, and getting a rental car, we took the 90 minutes trek from Raleigh down to the hospital. The most frustrating thing about the whole trip was that no one could or would tell us what they thought was wrong, even though we received a phone call asking permission to perform various tests on her.   My sister and I promised to each other that no matter what, we would make time to do some things that we enjoy doing when we visit, such as going to a certain shopping center or eating some good Southern food fixed which we don’t get in New York, just so we could keep our sanity and lighten up what was going to be a very heavy weekend regardless of how it turned

At the hospital we saw our grandmother and then saw Mom.  Her face was swollen and she was on oxygen.  Tubes were going in and our of her to pump out toxins and waste and pump in medicines and nutrients to sustain her. Luckily, she was still breathing.  All the nurses could tell us was that her vitals were “more or less OK” and they did not know what caused it or how long she had been out of it. Sista girl and I decided to stay at Mom’s place for the night, get some rest and return the next day to wait for the doctor to make his rounds.

Even though she was unconscious, we got the sense that Mom knew we were there, and that something was wrong.  We saw her on occasion try to bring herself out of it, but she was unsuccessful.  Call me crazy, but at times I felt like we were guarding her from the angel of death with me on one side of the bed holding her hand and Sista girl on the other side.  She would squeeze our hands and gave some resistance when we tried to release her.

From conversations with the doctor and the nurses that day, it became apparent that while the hospital really was doing everything they could for her, they simply did not have the equipment to give her the care she needed so we arranged to have her sent to one of the major hospitals in Raleigh as soon as a bed opened up.  We were lucky one opened up very soon (by no small chance, no doubt that her insurance information was current and the premium paid!) and she was on her way very quickly.

The hospital has very strict visitation rules with its ICU patients, so we went back to Mom’s place to get some rest, get up early to make yet another 90 minute trek to Raleigh in time for visiting hours.  When we got to her bed, the nurse said that she had been out all night except for a few fits and starts trying to wake up.  She still had tubes going in and out, including a new one up her nose and into her stomach.

As we approached the bed, Mom woke up for the first time after having been unconscious for five days.  It took her a little while to realize she was in a hospital.  Eventually she started an attempt at humour to say things like “well i guess the party’s over” or things like that.  All Amie and I could do was laugh.  The nurse even commented that she hadn’t heard anyone laugh in an ICU before and this was the first time she had woken up.

Our visitations were limited to 15 minute intervals every few hours or so, so the rest of the next couple of days went like that, at least for me.  Mom would go to sleep when we left, and then wake up on her own when we visited.  She could speak somewhat, but not too well. Sista girl stayed on an extra day or so while I returned to New York.  Mom left ICU and got in a private room where she stayed for two weeks.

We almost lost my mother.  We did eventually find out what was wrong with her and what led to her condition.  If I had not called the police, we would have been going to North Carolina that weekend but not for a hospital visit.   Even so, for a while we did not know how things were going to end up, so we took care of the more mundane things, like the rent, the insurance, cleaning out the refrigerator, planning for an extended hospital stay or something else.

Mom slowly but steadily got better, and on my recent trip back to NC this past weekend, I was able to bring her home.  She still cannot walk too well on her own and is using a walker.  Some things returned to normal very quickly.  Before we went home last Saturday, I asked if there was anything she wanted to do before we went home.  She wanted to see a movie and was insistent that we stop so she can get her nails done so she could be “somewhat presentable.”  We also went to dinner.  All this wore her out but she had a lot of fun and slept very soundly in her own bed, which she said had never felt so good.

Her strength is returning very slowly day by day, and if she takes care of herself, she may be back to normal in four to six months.  The very good news is that she did not have a stroke or aneurism and what she went through did not affect her mind.   When I spoke with her earlier today she was sitting out on the deck enjoying some sunshine.   Sista girl is going back to NC on Wednesday to stay through Sunday.  Friends are visiting her to keep her company and to see if she needs anything.

Please pray for Mom’s continued recovery and for Sista girl and myself.

It Finally Happened

I found two gray hairs in my beard this morning.

I have no fear or dread about getting older, but couldn’t this have waited until I was forty at least?

Jeesh.

Update: Thanks to Fr Robert Thomas in the comments for reminding me that I should be grateful that while I have started the graying process, nothing is falling out or thinning yet.

Quadruple Win

My roommate notified me this morning that he would be out of town on a ski trip starting tomorrow morning through Sunday night, so I get the whole apartment to myself.

My therapist called and said I could come in 90 minutes earlier, thus freeing up my evening.

My boss is out the rest of the afternoon and tomorrow.

Blowoff, a roving dance party based out of Washington, DC will be in NYC tomorrow night.   Always a lot of fun!

Now if I can just kick the sniffles ….

Office Stories

Story 1:

Last week we sent a presentation to a prospective client (or LP for Limited Partner as we call it at our firm) for a conference call on Monday night.  My boss approved the presentation put together by the analyst and I sent it off to the prospect via email before leaving Friday.  Copied on this email was the relevant department head who was also participating in the call.

Friday evening at around 10:00 pm we got an email from said department head.

“This is not what I had said to send out.  It has way too much information for the purposes of this call.”

Now we had all left for the evening of course and had adjourned to our respective locales.  All of us having blackberries, we all read the email on Friday night.  Read below the fold for our reactions as described on Monday, the resolution and another office story.