The Caring Catalyst

Who Cares - What Matters

What’s Amazing

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WHAT’S AMAZING.    .    .is

I never met her before. . .didn’t and still don’t know her name.

I don’t know how old she was then or is now. . .or if she’s even alive. . .

I don’t know where she lives, if she ever got married, had children, became a Teacher, Preacher, RN, Social Worker, Whopper Flopper, homeless or a host of other countless possibilities. . .

WHAT’S AMAZING.    .    . is

What I do know is that in less than 15 minutes,  she dramatically changed my life. . .

F     O     R     E     V     E     R

just by looking at life in two blink of the eyes

d    i    f    f    e    r    e    n    t    l    y

Our son was very sick. He began projectile vomiting on my Birthday, August 6, 1990 and THEY said he had a wondering spleen that had knotted up and had become defunct—useless.

He was so sick. . .

We were so scared. . .

There were many tests. . .

There were many Specialists. . .

There were many appointments and more appointments and even more interventions. . .

We were in a waiting room one afternoon, waiting for yet another test and a special x-ray

AND THERE SHE WAS. . .the Life-Changer

Truth?

I haven’t thought of her in some 25 years. . .really since that day we never actually met. . .

. . .until this past Tuesday when I was talking to an insurance representative turned Barber who said that he was still haunted by what he saw when he would walk through a Children’s Cancer Ward at Rainbow Babies University Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio

He said he still wakes up sometimes and questions the WHY, HOW-COME, WHAT-FOR of it all. . .

And as he was talking,  S H E  came back to my memory, my once-upon-a time, my powerful, Remember-When…

SHE   was there that day in the waiting room.

SHE   had on a hospital gown on, a makeshift bandana, an old, what looked like to be, favorite white-tattered sweater.

S H E  was crying. . .not sobbing, not screaming, not wailing, no gnashing of teeth, just crying as she said, not yelling out loudly, but softly:

“Please, Mom, I don’t want to do it; Please Mom, I don’t want to do it; Please Mom, I don’t want to do it; Please Mom, I don’t want to do it; Please Mom, I don’t want to do it. . . .”

Mom spoke only with her actions.

Her eyes were red and tired looking and her hair was not prettily combed and make up couldn’t cover what her heart was shouting and her mouth couldn’t whisper. . .but her arm around her daughter, holding her close as she cried, couldn’t deny that

 healing medicine.    .    .

L    O    V    E

that she was giving her daughter in a highly overdosing manner.

Our son was sleeping. . .he was exhausted from crying as he was being poked, prodded and now getting a slight reprieve before the next session.

The Nurse didn’t say a word when she came to the door way.

S H E  didn’t say a word. . .she left the safety of her mother’s arm and just walked away from her to follow the nurse through the door to a place she didn’t want to go. . .but went anyway

WHAT’S AMAZING. . .is

n    o   t

what we remember, is it. . .?

It’s that we actually DO remember it. . . .

Out of all of the How Come’s

Out of all of the What For’s

Out of all of the Why’s

That we Remember

That  IT  means something

(even after some 25 years)

is  amazing

Two sick kids were in a waiting room one August afternoon

One was crying. . .one was exhausted from crying too much

B    O    T    H

needed love–the perfect healer

B   O   T   H

gave much more

WHAT’S AMAZING. . .is

The Service Station

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Yeah, I was one of THOSE:

A Gas Station Attendant!

You’d have to Google or go to Wikipedia to even begin to understand what A Gas Station Attendant even

W A S

I worked my way through the last year of College and saved enough to begin my first year of Seminary.

It was waaaaaaaaaaay back in 1976

and I didn’t learn a thing about tires, oil changes, alternators, headlights, radiators or cars in general, but I did learn a lot about People and Service.

I was the guy that dropped everything he was doing to meet you at your barely rolled down window before the Service Station bell rang twice as you pulled up to the gas pump.

I would politely ask what type of gas you’d like, how much and if you would be so kind to allow me to check your oil, your tire pressure and clean your windshield.

I’d usually be treated just a little above whale dung–especially when it was in the dead of Winter.

…I learned a lot about People and a whole lot more about Service. . . .

The worse People would treat me was usually when I provided the most Service.

It really set me up for a life of service.

Givers are not Takers but Takers are!

I was making a whopping $75 a week and the best lesson I learned THEN

is the one I Teach, NOW:

NO ONE WILL EVER BE ABLE TO PAY YOU FOR WHAT YOU DO, BUT HOPEFULLY THEY’LL PAY YOU ENOUGH SO YOU CAN DO IT!

Anyone in any Service area, will never be paid for the SERVICE provided–EVER. . .

but most likely you’ll be compensated JUST ENOUGH to be able to continue to provide YOUR SERVICE.

I remember shoveling out the drive way of the service station before it was open and a grandmother and her two granddaughters pulled in with their radiator steaming. The hose had a hole; sprung a leak.

I poured hot chocolate from my thermos for the girls and grandma while I quickly replaced her hose and when she said she didn’t have any money to pay for the repair, I told her not to worry about it, paid for it out of my own pocket and wished them a good day with the advice to KEEP WARM and be safe.

It was near the end of my shift when I saw grandma’s car come into the lot, but this time grandpa was driving and he barely put the car in Park before he jumped out and started yelling me about how I had taken advantage of his wife, and put her and his two granddaughters at great risk for installing UN-named brand parts.

He didn’t want to hear that I never charged her and gave his granddaughters my hot chocolate. . . .

I learned a lot about People and a whole lot more about Service.

It wasn’t the next day or the next. . .

I was shoveling out the lot before the Station opened again, and I noticed “THE CAR” coming into the lot.

Grandma was driving.

She got out of the car with a brand new thermos filled with her HOME MADE Hot Chocolate and a warm ham and cheese sandwich and even warmer chocolate chip cookies.

“You’re a nice boy who deserves nice things.”

It was one of the nicest THANK YOU, I’M SORRY I’ve ever experienced.

I learned a lot about People and a whole lot more about Service.

Wouldn’t it be great if we still had Service Stations?

No. . .

Not the kind that serves gas, checks oil, tire pressure, radiator levels or washes windshields. . .

Not the kind that trades radiator hoses for warm sandwiches, cookies and homemade hot chocolate. . .

Not the kind that swaps merchandise for money. . .

. . .the kind that doesn’t count a cost before it delivers. . .
. . .the kind that doesn’t pay you adequately for what you deserve only what you can’t help doing anyway. . .
. . .the kind that the World needs and seldom gets enough. . .
. . .the kind that’ll get your treated a half-inch above whale dung. . .
. . .the kind that’ll make you feel better than any paycheck or hefty bank account. . .

. . .the kind that you’ll learn about People and a whole lot more about Service. . .
. . .the kind that you’ll Teach, Pass on as you first learned it, most likely the hard way. . .

DING
DING

Excuse me, time to go provide some

SERVICE!

It’s In Every One of Us

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It’s in Every One of us. . .

What’s the

I T ?

Happiness
Sadness
Hope
Despair
Hurt
Disappointment
Un-met Expectation
Suffering
Happiness
______________________________________

It’s been attributed to many different people, from Stephen Covey to Wayne Dyer to Pierre Teilhard de Chardin:

WE ARE NOT HUMAN BEINGS WHO MAY HAVE A SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE, WE ARE SPIRITUAL BEINGS HAVING A HUMAN EXPERIENCE.

I T

is a great saying and very believable. . .

HOWEVER,

The truest T H I N G

in every one of us just might well be our sincerest capacity to

E X P E R I E N C E

Your Suffering is my suffering. . .

Your Happiness is my happiness. . .

Yours. . .Mine

. . .a never ending thread of multiple colors and textures making up the ongoing Tapestry that ultimately makes a Yours and a Mine

O U R S

a glorious US

It’s in Every One of Us. . .

see THAT

be THAT

free THAT

all ways.

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 !

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. . . .

Yesterday’s News, Tomorrow

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It’s almost been a month. . .

If you think that news travels fast, time makes you forget THAT news flies even faster, doesn’t it?

It’s been just about a month since Robin Williams died.

There’s been many stories written, many movies highlighted and seen, many once-upon-a time’s and remember-when’s reflected upon.

Care for one more?

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear the name of ROBIN WILLIAMS or see another one of his movies without thinking about this. . . .

The story goes that whenever Robin was to be hired or considered for a role he would submit a “RIDER.”

[Read more…]

A Newer Testament

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Friday Afternoon in a nursing home.

Lots of activity for most, but not for her.

She had said often, maybe too often, because of her vascular dementia, that she was an old clock with not many ticks left.

It seemed on this Friday afternoon, she was right.

I received a call mid-afternoon from her Hospice Nurse telling me that she was actively dying; that she was mottled on her hands and feet and up her legs to her knees. She reported that she was having periods of apnea as well, up to fifteen seconds of not breathing at a time.

She called me because she knew that we had a special relationship over the past eight months and felt that the patient would have liked to have me there.

I let the nurse know that I was on my way, but still about a half and hour to forty-five minutes away. She told me that she would stay with the patient until I got there and that she already had set up for a Vigil Volunteer to be there later in the evening if necessary.

The nurse and I had worked together with many previous patients. She was good. She was very competent, caring, compassionate and ATHEIST.

I didn’t think that believing or not believing or anything in between made a difference when it came to bringing compassionate care.

We had many discussions about “The whole God thing,” mostly brought up by her. I never forced those discussions or any of my beliefs. I had much admiration and respect for her and knew the care she brought to the bedside.

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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!

Professional Speaker, Author, Assurance Man