Ten-Finger Exercises

Comments in crisis

I watched the news on the basement tv as I ironed hawaiian shirts to pack for Bill. That doesn't happen often-- ironing or watching the news.

Portland had a big windstorm (which blew this direction too, taking half the shingles off my daughter's roof.) Some 50,000 people are still without power. The newscast showed a young man, maybe 30, talking about camping in his 55 degree apartment, using candles and a small cookstove. Although this is the third day of the outage, he didn't look to have suffered any. Certainly it was an inconvenience, and he said his "fuse" was getting short. Another person who was interviewed was angry, and did at least comment about the greater hardship suffered by those in poor health. But then he said, "We can't let this go on." As if, it seemed to me that he implied, he was not getting the service he deserved, that someone was being lax in not restoring the power sooner.

When we feel powerless, (no, I didn't really intend the pun there, but it is funny ) why do we need someone to blame for our predicament?

Another story was about climbers who have been lost on Mt Hood for two weeks. They are experienced and had good survival gear with them, but that's a long time to be out in the cold. The weather has been too bad for good searching, although there are still helicopters out there with infrared cameras hoping to find someone alive.

One family member who was interviewed said, "I know my son will come down the mountain today. He wouldn't miss my birthday." Another said, "Our goal has always been for each of us to watch the moon. I saw the moon. I know he did too." A third, an Asian woman with a heavy accent, said that the mountain had no right to keep the climber up there, going on to imply that he was a captive.

These were people much more seriously affected by tragedy than the people without electricity. The third woman blamed the mountain for the missing climber. The other two professed hope, even knowledge, that the men would be found alive.

Yesterday I talked to a woman with ALS, a lovely woman about fifty years old or less who I'll call Kay. She has always been in top physical shape, and can now barely walk or scratch her nose. Her muscles have deteriorated, and, without a miracle, will continue to do so. She is afraid of that. Of course. She told me right off that she has faith that she will be healed. I knew that already; in fact, I went to see her because one of her sisters is a nurse and a friend of mine. The sister is worried that Kay is in denial; in fact, a third sister, who supports Kay in believing she will be healed, has gone so far as to say that it would have happened if there weren't non-believers around. Sounds just like Job's friends, a fine lot.

Kay let me know right away that she needed to have this hope because it's what keeps her going. Some days she gets very down, she told me and cried. "Everything I do is so hard, I just want to have the Lord come take me." So, to avoid the fear and the depression, she suspends her doubt and lets herself believe that a miracle will happen. She saw an interview with another ALS patient who was healed, and she felt that was a sign. "I need to have hope, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

My own inclination is to think like my friend, that it's better to know what's happening than live in a dream you believe the Lord has promised you. But when I listened to her, I knew that wasn't so for her. For her there was absolutely no good reason to be realistic, to accept the course of the disease and her future. In time maybe she'll have to. Some people never do, and, as infuriating as that is for the people around them who put their faith in being realistic, it's all right.

I told Kay I could hear two themes from her, the need to hope for a miracle, and also the need to put herself in the Lord's hands. That's what she said she did for her children, allowed herself to let go and put them in the Lord's hands. I hope, when the time comes, she'll be able to do it for herself. But who am I to say? Maybe that wouldn't be the best thing either.