Ten-Finger Exercises

Deadly nightshade

I heard from two sources that the pretty vine I'd let take far too much hold in various places of my garden is most likely deadly nightshade, a poisonous plant--to ingest, not to touch. I'm too stiff to get out and finish the job today, but hope to do it within the week. And boy will I wash my hands!

I took Arlene around with me to see four patients. It was the first time she's admitted she'd much rather be the passenger, and with her big Highlander, would probably rather not spend the money on gas. We do get mileage, but I don't think it covers gas at $3.09. (Actually, it's down to 2.89 now.) We've had to really shuffle around the work load since 'Gertie' flew off the handle and quit. Evidently she had gotten pretty far behind, which explains further why she might have acted as she did. So, one social worker has the bereavement load (that Gertie was so far behind in,) and the other, Arlene, sees patients.

It made me think about people who I've met in my years as hospital chaplain who have told me they are Baptists, or Lutherans, or whatever. When I asked to call their pastor to let him/her know they were in the hospital, they'd say, "Oh, that was in Kansas. I haven't really found a church here yet." So I'd offer to call a couple of Baptist or Lutheran pastors in the area who had other patients in the hospital anyway. That way they could get to meet them and establish some connection that would serve them as they, a. got well enough to attend church, or b. continued to get sicker and needed the resources of the church.

And then I'd hear something like, "Well, really we haven't been back to church since that minister said blahblahblah, or that organist played so loud, or that stewardship captain used to ask for a pledge." And it would turn out that they'd moved to this town from Kansas thirty years ago without ever looking for a new church.

The truth was, they had done their duty, in their mind. They'd raised their kids in church, or at least Sunday school till they got to junior high or high school. They had no more need of church; it had become an aggravation. They'd learned all they needed to learn in the first years of Sunday school they'd provided for their kids. They'd left church themselves during their teen years, and had only come back to give their kids the same education. They never learned that there was so much more to learn....So much more! A parting of convenience, whether it was from a job or a church that no longer met their needs.

A wimpy, dishonest way to leave, without facing their own lacks of commitment or connection, their own part in whatever disagreement occurred. It's never one-sided. No matter how much they say about how much they loved that church, or that job, I'll always wonder why they didn't find another church to worship in, another job to serve in.