Being an Elder

"Walk lightly toward the evening of your age, do not be in a hurry to reach the end of your path, but let your youth still glow in the shadows like a sunset that lingers on the horizon. Shine bright with wisdom, shine bright with faith. Let all of your experience count, the good and the bad, and all that drifted in-between the spaces of your life when you weren't looking. Use what you have learned. Let your breathing be for a purpose, a vision made from the leftover memory, the unorganized dream. Your age has meaning when given away to the games of children." ~ Steven Charleston, Episcopal Bishop, Choctaw

Bishop Charleston' words ring so very true. I am better now that I have heard them.  They help me make real the thoughts I am having and the actions I am taking. I know now that my prayer to enlighten others in their journey through life is being answered. I am blessed and renewed.

I.N.J.

My Big Toe

My Big Toe

Like a warrior I stand
brave and strong
that is my destiny
to protect this sacred land

   Posted on FB by    Aboriginal and Tribal Nation News 5/22/12

You might at this point be asking what this painting and caption could possibly have to do with ‘My Big Toe.’

I don’t know exactly where it all started but somewhere along the line in my lacklusterous life there was an unknown mechanism of injury to my right great toe that caused arthritis to set in. Over the years the arthritis went from a troublesome presence to an acute and chronic condition. In its early stages, the occasional awareness of its presence was often ignored as just another thing in this mighty body (well maybe more large than mighty). And by the way I was a warrior sworn to protect this city. I rode my Ford Interceptor dutifully over the square miles assigned to me.

Don’t get the wrong idea; Law Enforcement is not at all like it is depicted on TV, where tireless officers battle capital crimes one after another, bringing the ‘perps’ to justice in just one hour.  Even for the most aggressive and proactive of officers it could become boring, monotonous, and routine lulling one into a false sense of security and serenity. Out of nowhere we were required to go from minus fifty energy output to all ahead full with an extra shot of adrenaline. This meant taking this once finely tuned body, now carrying an extra sixty pounds of donuts and fast food not to mention the extra sixty pounds of equipment, into a life or death situation. In the end it was generally a bad guy going to jail and then facing a pile of paperwork.

Now back to that big toe. There was only a faint but perceptible increase in pain after one of these events. It was later in the station or at home that the notorious big toe makes direct contact with and immovable object with an unheard of amount of force. The pain would be exquisite, immediate, and debilitating and generally accompanied by a flowing diatribe laced with expletives that would make a sailor blush. Over the years these painful and memorable events would occur. Although infrequent, they were cumulative in their detrimental effect.

There were ice bags, elevation, hydrocortisone shots, handfuls of NSAIDs, and ‘sick time’ to alleviate the distress cause by my big toe. Then came that fateful day that I nearly died from a gastrointestinal bleed caused by an ulcer contributed to too many NSAIDs over too long a time.
Aspirin, Aleve, Naproxen, along with all the other non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs were banned from my medicine cabinet… forever. Now you have to realize here that it has been years since I retired from law enforcement and then security manager. Like Mr. Incredible my super suits no longer fit. I have evolved into the mild mannered, loving, caring, and compassionate hospital chaplain, a member of the clergy.

But alas the right big toe has ripened into a glowing, golf ball sized, mass of fiery agony on the X-ray film. The hydrocortisone shots long ago reached their maximum effectiveness and frequency. It seems the only option is surgery. Now five days post surgery, my big toe is now fused at the joint with all of the arthritis shaved off, three screws, and a steel plate added.  I won’t tell you that it was at all fun the first few days, even with good pain meds.  Now five days out the pain is actually less than it was before the surgery and getting better every day.  Would I do it again… yes but much sooner!

So, what about that 1800’s Plains Indian? When I saw him on his war horse I wondered how he was able to make through his day on the range without an ice bag, elevation, hydrocortisone shots, handfuls of NSAIDs, and (ha ha) sick time. When he rode across the plains protecting his sacred land and people; he is said to have let out great war cries (whoops in some stories) as he was attacking the enemy.  I wonder, were those really war whoops to scare his foe or were they the excruciating pain of his arthritis. Well either way, I have a great deal of respect to him and a great deal of sorrow that his decedents were not able in the end to protect their sacred land.

I don’t want you to dwell on me. I’m fine. I want you to take a minute or two to think about the American Indian.  He was a guy kind of like you.  He was happy, friendly, caring, giving, dedicated to being a good steward to all the gifts that Creator blessed him with and a great family man. All that has changed… chew on that for a while.

I look forward to meeting you in Hot Springs, Arkansas in October 2012 for a Moment. I just ask you to remember that it is all about them, not us!!

“Those who obey God’s commandments live in fellowship with him, and he with them.  And we know he lives in us because the Holy Spirit lives in us.” 1 John 3:24

May the Great Spirit reside with you!

I.N.J.