The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

A Necessary Heart Attack

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So what is IT?

We’ve been bombarded almost constantly, some say since Christmas In July, with

C H R I S T M A S !

So what is your favorite Christmas movie or animation, because they’ve been on since Thanksgiving?

I think mine is the THE GRINCH WHO STOLE CHRISTMAS but it’s not a run-a-way winner by far. I like them all.

I think I choose the Grinch because of one particular scene that I loved from the book written in

1957. . . .

(SEE, EVEN IN 1957 THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS AND WHAT MAKES IT SO SIGNIFICANT TO SO MANY. . . .)

“. . .AND THE GRINCH, WITH HIS GRINCH-FEET ICE COLD IN THE SNOW, STOOD PUZZLING AND PUZZLING, HOW COULD IT BE SO? IT CAME WITHOUT RIBBONS. IT CAME WITHOUT TAGS. IT CAME WITHOUT PACKAGES, BOXES OR BAGS. AND HE PUZZLED AND PUZZLED ‘TILL HIS PUZZLER WAS SORE. THEN THE GRINCH THOUGHT OF SOMETHING HE HADN’T THOUGHT OF BEFORE. WHAT IF CHRISTMAS, HE THOUGHT, DOESN’T COME FROM A STORE? WHAT IF CHRISTMAS, PERHAPS, MEANS A LITTLE BIT MORE?”

Could be the greatest WHAT IT ever, huh?

or maybe. . .

WHAT IF…

Christmas is less about RELIGION and severely about what R E A L L Y

makes our Hearts grow Three times M O R E?

Well, now. . .

That’s a HEART ATTACK we all could afford…

Even…EVEN…

n e c e s s a r y.

The covers are turned down;

See you in the C. C. U.

S T A T !

Brokenness

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Is there anything sadder than a little boy crying over a broken toy?

Do you remember?

Your favorite toy–BROKEN–and not by someone else. That would only make you mad, but broken by your own hand.

The ultimate O U C H.

He was devastated. His sisters and mother had already come into the restaurant, but he and his dad stayed out in the lobby.

He was just about unconsolable.

“Whhhhhhhhhy dad? Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhy,” he sobbed.

Dad was already kneeling down beside him so he could be at his level.

“I’m sorry buddy,” I heard his dad say in a soft, low voice.

“I didn’t mean to drop it, daddy. It just slipped out of my hand. It just slipped,” he continued to sob out as he picked up the broken pieces of his toy train car.

“I know, buddy, I know it was an accident. You didn’t do it on purpose,” his dad said reassuringly.

“Maybe we can get another one,” the son asked trying to put NOW back the Pieces of his broken heart?

“Son, I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t think they sell these anymore. We might be able to buy something else but nothing just like this,” dad said, once again in a very comforting tone.

“Maybe, maybe we can just fix it, daddy?

“Buddy, I don’t think that’s going to happen either; the pieces that we might have been able to fix are broken up too. I’m sorry, Pal.”

The mantra started:

“It’s not fair. . .it’s not fair. . .it’s not fair. . .I want my train back. I want my train back. I just want my train back again, dad.”

And the refrain:

“I know, buddy, I know, I know, I know. . .”

“I JUST WANT MY TRAIN!”

L O U D E R CRYING.

“Sometimes things just can’t be fixed when they get broken. That’s why we have to be careful with the things that important to us,” dad tried saying as assuringly as he could.

More crying. . . .

“Come here, buddy,” dad said as he picked his son up and put him on his knee as he continued to kneel down beside him.

His son wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and cried a bit more until it just settled down into a few sobs and then just a couple of shudders.

All of this took place to the side of me as I was waiting to pay my bill and leave.

It wasn’t a very long few moments.

It was me, standing in line, waiting behind another patron to settle a debt, pay a bill. . .

And yet, it was a little boy with a smashed train and a broken heart with a caring dad that was more than enough filling my Account.

In the end, it wasn’t much of his words or reassurances that made the difference; it was that WORDLESS compassionate, loving hug.

Do you remember?

Something broken. . .

The devastation. . .

The hurt. . .

The R E L I E F

. . .of an unspoken word that was a hug. . .HELD BACK INTO WHOLENESS?

It was a powerful sight to see that between a son and his dad. . .

Even more powerful to know we possess, even NOW, that kind of healing power for another’s

B R O K E N N E S S.

The World becomes WHOLE, gets more healed, one compassionate hug at at time.

PAY UP

The World doesn’t need another speech. . .it needs a sincere, compassionate hug. . .

It won’t only pick up the pieces. . .it’ll hold them in place.

PAY UP

LegisLATEd

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WOULDN’T IT BE GREAT?

All stupid laws, wiped from the Books. . .

We’ve all seen them before, haven’t we?

Books have been written; documentaries produced:

STUPID LAWS

In Wheeler, Missouri, young girls are never allowed to walk a tightrope–Unless it’s in Church.

You must believe in God to be elected into office in Tennessee.

In Leecreek, Arkansas, no one is allowed to attend Church in any red-colored garment.

It’s illegal to have a sleeping donkey in your bathtub after 7:00 p.m. in Oklahoma.

Turtle races are not permitted within one-hundred yards of a local church at any time in Slaughter, Louisiana.

In Oxford, Ohio, it’s unlawful for a woman to appear in public while unshaven. This includes legs and face.

Please. . .PLEASE, I beg of you, DO NOT even think of tickling a woman under her chin with a feather duster, in Church while in Blackwater, Kentucky unless you want to hear the Judge’s gavel come slamming down as he pronounces a $100 penalty and one full day in jail.

Ludicrous, huh?

I’ve just mentioned a few that GOOGLE could provide a GAGGLE more for you.

IF WRITING IT DOWN IN A LAW BOOK COULD MAKE IT–LAW–COULD WE LEGISLATE

love

compassion

empathy

kindness

sympathy

peace

fulfilled dreams

answered prayers

____________________________________. . . .

Questionable. . .

Doubtful there could ever be laws enacted that would benefit the world–us–in such a way we would dare not break for fear of imprisonment.

Hmmmmmm of the Day: WE ARE IMPRISONED–Legislated or not–when we are not observers/keepers of the LAW of

LOVE
Compassion
Empathy
Kindness
Sympathy
Peace
Fulfilled Dreams
Answered Prayers

Would we dare risk, penalty, imprisonment, death, NOT OBSERVING/KEEPING such Laws?

Until WE HAVE. . .

we won’t. . . .

Never has the slamming of the gavel been more alarmingly L O U D

. . .and we more guilty.

DUCK…

The Book is in mid-air; long been thrown; it’s aim exact and ohhhhh,

it’s going to leave a mark.

Wouldn’t it be great?

Legislating the Un-Legisltable?

We can’t be imprisoned for not observing such laws and yet, we can never fully be free until we live otherwise.

Love Epidemic

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Have you been Ebola-ized yet?

The World once again seems to be on guard for another epidemic awaiting to pounce.

A NYC Dr. has just been diagnosed with Ebola within the past hour.

We’re afraid. . .once again. . .

but it certainly IS NOT the first time.

I don’t remember his name. . .

but I’ll never forget his SELFLESS LOVE.

It was about 18 years ago and he had been with his partner for nearly 12 years.

He had AIDS.

He was dying.

His father was a Southern Baptist minister who actually believed that AIDS was God’s righteous punishment for homosexuality. He had said that his son was already dead to him and that he had no place in his house or his life unless he “REPENTED.”

What’s worse than a young man in his mid-thirty’s dying of AIDS?

A man in his mid-thirty’s who’s dying of AIDS and has to choose between staying with his partner UNTIL DEATH DO THEM PART or reuniting with his judgmental, YOU’RE-GOING-TO-GO-STRAIGHT-TO-HELL-UNLESS-YOU-ATONE-IMMEDIATELY-FOR-YOUR-DISCRECTION family.

True love never really has to choose. . .

It only needs to recognized that it has chosen YOU.

. . .Often it is not.

After much painful discussions and ultimately even more daring decisions, the AIDS-Infected Prodigal son returned to the home of his parents to be reunited with them.

He went home as his last gift FOR THEM.

He and his partner agreed, that there love didn’t need explained or proven, that in fact, it had COMPLETED THEM.

What they further agreed upon was that his parents needed to have their son return so that they could actually grieve his death in a much more acceptable way.

So home he went. . .

R E P E N T A N T

He died in the care of his parents.

LOVE as a VERB.

. . .A very SELF-LESS ONE.

We’ve had many epidemics hit the world–even in our current lifetimes.

What about Love?

The DIS-EASE OF LOVE?

The EPIDEMIC OF LOVE?

The highly contagious. . .

The Severely communicable. . .

The Intensively contractable. . .

The Unimaginable transmittable. . .

Dis-Ease. . .pandemic outbreak of pure, undefiable, unadulterated

L O V E ?

It’s never death that parts us. . .

It’s life without love–unconditional–that keeps us separated; segregated,

I N C O M P L E T E D.

Here’s to a HOPEFUL Love Epidemic. . .

Here’s that we each may be infested with the Dis-Ease of Love. . .

That we may intentionally, purposely INFECT others. . .

That we may make it airborne. . .

That we may leave no lung without it’s air. . .

That we may become terminal. . .

Now. . .

Then. . .

For an ever. . . .

UN-LEGISLATABLE

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Wouldn’t it be great if LAWS weren’t the only thing that could actually be legislated?

Wait. . .?

Are laws actually legislated?

Is Love?

Is Compassion?

Is Justice?

Is Hope?

Is Faith?

Is Caring?

Is Forgiveness?

Is Empathy?

Is Sympathy?

Is Belief?

Is Giving?

Is Joy?

Is Happiness?

Is Presence?

We can’t can we?

We can’t ever legislate what we need the most. . .

But, we can share it!

Get convicted doing the right thing–better still. . .

Become W A N T E D with a high price on your head. . .

A Fugitive on the run–

For being a REPEAT OFFENDER!

A Karaoke Funeral

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My Friend, Eric Butler is a Funeral Director, one of the finest I’ve ever had the privilege to work along side.

Eric has great compassion, superb skill and fantastic ways of companioning families through this early, painful grief work.

Eric has humongous humor.

In all of his years of service and expertise and mine as a funeral officiant, we’ve seen quite a lot of change in the actual Memorial Service. More and more are wanting to use it as a Celebration of Life with many people contributing stories, thoughts, memories, comments. Often I’m a Parentheses

(

Getting the Service started with a welcome and sometimes a short prayer. . .

)

And concluding it with appropriate thoughts after everyone has shared.

Eric has labeled these: KARAOKE FUNERALS.

Out of all the many Karaoke Funerals I’ve had, I certainly had a most unusual one lately.

The Funeral was for a 46 year old lady who died of a heroin overdose.

As just described, I opened the service by thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate and remember
“Mary’s” life and asked if anyone would like to share a thought, a memory, a story, a comment.

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Hope, Faith, and Love

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How good of a NOTICE-ER are you?

Do you believe in Coincidence or are you more of an Einstein believer of, “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining Anonymous?”

I’ve always had a fairly sharp eye for what’s happening around me. I still think I MISS much more than I notice, but a willingness to SEE, HEAR, TASTE, TOUCH, SMELL more goes a very long way in actually seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, and smelling so much more than purposely not doing so.

Everyone wears NAME TAGS these day.

EVERYONE. . .EVERYWHERE.

I saw her’s at CVS as I was checking out. Her name was HOPE.

“I like your name, do you?” I asked her.

She smiled and said it was ok.

I asked her if anyone ever made fun of it and she told me more than she’d like, but was pretty much use to it.

I thanked her for taking care of me so nicely and said, “No pun intended, but I ‘HOPE’ your name serves you well and others more than you’ll ever understand or imagine.”

She smiled at back at me and already began checking out the good of the person behind me.

I NOTICED. . .

Later that day I was picking up some copied mps/cd’s from a camera shop and person who had called me on the phone to let me know that my order was ready, she identified herself as, Faith.

I had a little “Hmmmmmmmmmmm of the Day,” moment.

When I met her, I asked her about her name just like I had done with Hope. She told me that it was an aunt’s name who had died before she had been born.

I asked her if she liked her name and she smiled and shrugged her shoulders a little and giggled out a, “It’s alright, I guess.”

“Well, Faith,” I said, “I hope your name serves you and others well–just like it did me today.”

Her smile served as her only response.

I NOTICED. . .

It was my last visit of the day.

She was sitting with her back to me and her husband was lying in bed.

From the doorway, I could see he was half sleeping and half awake, moaning softly.

He blinked opened his eyes repeatedly, tried to clear his throat and then with a raspy whisper he said, “Hey Love, can you give me sip of water?”

“Ahhhh, thank you, Love, thank you,” he sighed as he was already back into a not so restless slumber.

“What a great name,” I said as I pulled up a chair beside her on the side of his bed.

She looked at me with moist, tired, red eyes.

“Oh that’s not my name, it’s Gloria, but he’s called me that since our second date 48 years ago.”

“It seems to fit,” I told her as we sat silently watching her husband breathe with a little rattle.

He mumbled, “Love. . .Love. . .Love. . . .”

She put her hand over top of his and laid her head down on the side of his bed.

It was peaceful. . .it was Love-FILLED.

I NOTICED. . .

Coincidence or

meeting three women in three so very different places, God’s way of remaining Anonymous?

Are you a good Notice’er?

You really don’t have to be Einstein to N O T I C E

Hope. . .

Faith. . .

Love. . .

The Greatest of these is not just in the NOTICING, but BEING in the moments that make Life more than mere Consequences…and then,

SHARING THEM. . . .

An Honor–Not a Job or a Day

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Father’s Day was yesterday….

I’m not much for observing any day whenever it actually is. To me, right now, at this moment as you are reading this post, it’s just as much Father’s Day as any one that appears the third Sunday of any June.

Every year for the for the past 34 I’ve gotten my kids PRESENTS for Father’s Day. The logic to me, and I’ve taught them: I’M NOT A DAD WITHOUT YOU…THANKS FOR BEING MY GIFTS.

Yesterday was no exception, they all got Gifts of Appreciation from me.

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Bless the Beasts and. . . .

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Bless the Beasts and the Children…great song, an even better idea and an absolutely fantastic feeling.

It’s a simple question that has usually gotten me into a lot of trouble and sometimes much hurt:

CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET A LONG?

Seriously, it’s a question I ask with an immense amount of Compassion and apparently a lot more naivety.

I never could never understand as a child and now a past-middle-aged adult why we could just not get a long, why there were wars, fights, arguments? I guess I still can’t.

I have learned it many times as a Church Pastor, a Hospice Chaplain, a Team-Leader, a Speaker, an Author, a Husband, a Father, a Grandfather, a Friend, a Neighbor, a Person.

Listen, I’m not ripping the Pope. I have only heard what he said about Pets…but I still ask the same question as a dad and a pet owner of cats and dogs, and one time of lizards, geckos, a feeder rat, fish, hamsters, hermit crabs and yeah, even spiders.

I know, as studies have said, they’ve all made my blood pressure go lower and I believe, absolutely, higher at times.

I know I’ve told my dogs and cats things I’ve never told another human being.

I know I’ve cried when I have dug their graves in my back yard and laid them to rest.

I know. . . .

. . .and so do you!

So instead of some scathing attack of HOW DARE YOU’s or I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT’s or something(S) much worse and stronger…I’m going to emulate Molly, the dog I have laying beside me right now as I type this: I’m going to be loving, accepting, forgiving, cuddling, appreciative,

U N C O N D I T I O N A L L Y

I conducted a memorial service of a young hospice patient recently. She was a brilliant, caring, loving daughter, friend, lawyer, dog-owner. Shortly after she died, her dog died as well. Her vet said it was a broken heart. When the patient’s grieving mother asked me, hesitantly, embarrassingly, if I could hold a service for both of them this past weekend, I never paused when I said assuredly, “Absolutely.” Their ashes were mixed together in the urn, NEVER TO BE SEPARATED AGAIN….

I think when I grow up I want to be a little kid and/or his dog.

I want to believe, to accept, to love, to trust to love UNCONDITIONALLY just like THEM.

I want the Beast and the child in me to be Blessed…and I want to bless accordingly.

Uhhh, yeah. . .I have the naivety, the audacity, the compassion to think that could actually change the world…one pet, one child, one person at a time.

Join me!

The Calling

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“THEY SAY. . . ,” you will not have just a job or more, just a career, but most likely FIVE of them during your life time.

Gone are the days of working for a corporation/factory/school district/job for forty years to leave with a nice pension, 401K and the proverbial gold engraved Watch.

It’s this time of the year with Graduation Ceremonies abounding that we hear of 70, 80, 91 year old’s actually graduating. Their Retirement, better still, their Calling has changed. It doesn’t matter WHO they were before…it matters WHO THEY ARE NOW!

Us too.

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Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man