Desperately Seeking Ordination

There's something about aligning myself with a group, any group, that I find... distasteful.

Why then am I desperately seeking ordination? I need a job! I have been putting off joining a denomination because of this history of disgust with groups but now I must suck it up. In particular, aligning myself based on my beliefs is quite difficult for me. I was called a heretic at Biola, I was called a heretic at Talbot, too conservative for some of the other chaplains, something about how people want to place themselves within the bounds of a group is confusing to me.

So I applied for a per diem chaplain position with San Diego Hospice last month. Requirements: MDiv... check, 1 unit of CPE... check, endorsement of a denomination.... ugh. They would not pass on my resume because I didn't have my ordination/endorsement. Since that time I have diligently been working toward making it happen.

Normally a minister seeking ordination would simply work through their current church, however our current church is not formerly affiliated with a denomination. Our previous church in LA, Whittier Area Community Church, was awesome and part of the Baptist General Conference. Pastor Bill said that he would write a letter on my behalf to any church I became affiliated with, which is extremely helpful. The only other church I know in San Diego is also BGC and came highly recommended is Flood. I met briefly after a service with the lead pastor and he seemed to think that I would be able to work with them toward my ordination. I left there encouraged and I'm hoping to meet with him again and talk about how this might work.

So it's in process. I'm sort of waiting for the leaders of Flood to make the next move though. I already sent them an email, I'm trying to be patient. Never have I been so close to being able to do what I want to do for a career.

Way Freakin' Busy

This has been an immersive few months at the hospital, that's why I haven't been able to write much. That and the fact that all the cool stories I could put in a blog would be illegal thanks to the HIPAA bastards. My goals for this unit have been much heavier than they were last time, focusing on caring for chronically ill children and being a support to families who experience death in the hospital. And so far I have been able to work with many families that fit those two categories.

I have gotten to know a lot of families in our Oncology unit. I would have to say that it has been some of the most meaningful work I've done so far. Some of these families are at the hospital for months and we get to come along side them from the day of their diagnosis to the day they finish treatment. It's a bond that is powerful if correctly fostered by staff and utilized by families.

400 hours down! 400 more by June 5th!

Back To The Hospital

Tomorrow I start a new semester at the hospital. I'm not sure what units I will be covering this time, although I do know that they will be in a higher acuity floor. The last 6 months were great and I am looking forward to the next as well. But a major difference from last semester is that this time I will be working full-time rather than only part-time. I have to be at the hospital 40 hours a week in order to attain all the clinical hours needed. It's going to be a lot of time. If I miss a day, I'll have to make it up on my weekends. If for some reason I missed a week, say I got sick, I would not be very happy trying to make up all that time. But it's not all bad, by June I will have 2 more units completed and have a total of 3 of the 4 needed to be certified.

And on a completely different note. This was my 100th blog post. I'm sure there are people who can do that in a month, well it took me about 2 1/2 years! Huzzah!

Favorite Music Of 2008

It's been a busy year for Rachelle and I, 2008 I mean. So far 2009 has been pretty chill, for me at least. But with the end of the year comes the eventual "best of" lists. Well, I can't give a best of list because I am only getting back into the search for good music. For the past 2 years I had pretty much given up hope that good music existed. If you listen to the radio, you know what I mean. This list will be a list of what I believe to be gems waiting for others to discover. Trust me, a ray of light still exists, hope still exists among the Britney comebacks and relentless Fall Out Boy releases. Hope came and found me this time, through my good buddy Pandora.com. A band gave me hope and made me want to know what else I had been missing, and they begin our list:

The Black Keys - Attack & Release
The blues rock duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney out of Akron give a new reason to root for the Ohio rock scene. These guys are by no means new kids on the block, with 4 albums under their belt and signed to a major label. Their latest album, "Attack & Release", was a collaboration with Ike Turner (before his death) and acclaimed hip hop producer Brian 'Danger Mouse' Burton. The release is definitely a departure from their earlier work, all of which is highly recommended. Some people have been complaning that this album has been overproduced and sounded too different. I disagree. Their early work is great, and very raw. I think Danger Mouse has done a admirable job polishing this album while keeping them who they are and not injecting his own hip hop specialties. The album still holds some blunt weapons like "Strange Times" and "I Got Mine" which slap you on the face and make stand to attention like previous albums. Also some slower, powerful songs like "Lies" and "Psychotic Girl" with it's hypnotic background vocals and beat. They make me want to be a better man. Take a listen:

Mount Eerie - Lost Wisdom
This list is meant to be a sampling of albums made this year that I have discovered. Some I know more than others, so if my descriptions aren't as long as they should be it's because they are newer to me to. This is one of them. Mount Eerie is Phil Elverum, formerly of The Microphones. About this change Elverum said: "Mount Eerie is a new project. The Microphones was completed, or at least at a good stopping point. I did it because I am ready for new things. I am new." I respect that. Knowing where to end something is often harder than starting something new. When I first heard the beginning of "Voice In Headphones" I figured it was just another Eliot Smith wannabe then from no where came these heavenly harmonies of Julie Doiron and Fren Squire. The album is short, just over 20 minutes but worth a listen.

The Mars Volta - The Bedlam In Goliath
Those who know me are well aware of my man crush for TMV, so this pick will not be a surprise. The Mars Volta bless us with their 4th album post At The Drive-In. Their prog-rock sound is, according to the band itself, like a "donkey choking a waffle". I couldn't fathom a better description. The most uncertain part of this album was the inclusion of a new drummer, Thomas Pridgen. TMV have a tendency to musically hijack alien spacecrafts during their songs and soar out into the universe while the listener eagerly waits for them to return, maybe. Keeping the beat is also what was able to keep them grounded. How would Pridgen do? The fears were unfounded, as Pridgen executes his instrument with a power TMV has yet to see. If you are interested, the album was plagued with much "bad luck" as well. While in Jerusalem, Omar bought an archaic oujia board that the band dubbed "The Soothsayer". After much hardship, one of which was the former drummer quiting, Omar broke the board and buried it in an undisclosed location to lift the curse they were afflicted by. Dope. For more read here. The band got mixed reviews with "Amputecture", and many have said this album is moving back toward "Frances The Mute". That may be true, but I hope they aren't getting too much label pressure to reign it in. TMV's job, as far as I am concerned, is to always take that step too far. Wherever the line is drawn, I sleep well at night knowing they can't even see the line from where they are. They're cruising Alpha Centauri, loving green women and leaving them.

This is getting long. Here are some others

Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
The Seattle quintet have gotten a lot of exposure for their first album. At the beginning of the year the group was signed to Sub Pop after their Myspace page had 250,000 plays in 2 months. While thier folk-pop stylings are good, it's hard to truly take them out of the indie scene that has helped rise them to the prominent position they are now enjoying. They're a part of a larger movement that they owe a lot to and fans who have spread the word about them.

Shugo Tokumaru - Exit
I don't think you're prepared for Shugo. Listening to "Exit" is like having elves crap a rainbow in your brain. You may not know what's happening, but you find yourself staringing at a pot of gold and all of a sudden you don't care anymore. Something like 50 different instruments were used in the making of this album, many by Shugo himself. Considering all those instruments, even banging on pots and pans, the production of this album is great. The stand out track "Parachute" is a sunny little pop ditty and all the tracks are so Japanese. I don't mean they have Japanese lyrics, I mean they are Japanese. The same way that "Katamari Damacy" couldn't be anything other than Japanese. It's great.

Why? - Alopecia
I love nerd rock. Well, these guys are raps answer to nerd rock. They're an interesting blend of indie rock and rap with lyrics that might make you laugh or cringe. This album isn't for everyone because of that. I did like how itunes put it when they said: "Alopecia... displays both crypticness and honesty, intellectualism and vulgarity in equal measure, challenging and placating its audience in the same drawn-out, undefined, nasally breath". The first song I heard off this album was perhaps the best, "Fatalist Palmistry". It begins with: "I sleep on my back because it's good for the spine and coffin rehearsal" to which I let out an unexpected laugh. Rap is a genre where artists take themselves far too seriously, self-agrandizement is expected. This album is a breath of fresh air in that respect.

Hauschka - Ferndorf
I really can't say it better than David Abravanel over at CokeMachineGlow: "Ferndorf is a record of understatement and introspection, of lightheartedness and melancholy nostalgia. Named after the small German town where Bertelmann grew up, it’s the soundtrack to the adage that you can take the boy out of the town, but you know the rest. The tear in Ferndorf is between Bertelmann’s lovely memories, of swimming holes and blue bicycles and pretty girls next door and nature walks, and the reality that he’s a budding international musician whose success likely would not have been possible had he not left this pristine setting. Just listen to those weeping chord changes on “Heimat” and try not to get choked up remembering your own childhood".

This took a lot longer than I expected and I didn't even get to the new Sigur Ros and many others. Maybe another time.

You Were Right

Last week I officially finished my first unit of Clinical Pastoral Education towards being accredited as hospital chaplain. For our final meeting we had to complete an exit interview report that turned out to be about 9 pages long. One of the questions asked: "What patient relationships have meant the most to you..." and I answered from the last 6 months with two patients. One is Shaya.

Shaya is vampire loving, cynical, goth, funny, black wearing, moody, anime watching teenager that I have been visiting for the past 5 months. Needless to say, we get along famously. She is a resident in our critical care facility at the hospital that is reserved for medically fragile children. When I say "resident", I mean that she lives at the hospital. She is restricted to a ventilator to always keep her lungs working whether in bed or in her wheelchair. When I visit her, she is home. It's different than a patient in the hospital proper. We hang out. Talk about guys that she likes, I help her with her homework, we play games, talk about her artwork, I am broadening her anime horizons which we occasionally watch together. Sometimes we talk about spiritual things, sometimes about how she's feeling, sometimes I just keep her company. When I was first getting to know her, she and the nurses hazed me one night during karaoke... yea that's right karaoke... in which they made me sing "Material Girl" by Madonna. Last Saturday was the annual Christmas Party and Shaya said she didn't want to get her picture taken with Santa and Mrs. Claus. So I made a deal with her. We would both be in the picture and I would sit on Mrs. Claus' lap, which I of course did and I think Mrs. Claus enjoyed. There were many families there that day and everyone seemed to have a good time. The party was from 1-3pm and about 4pm I decided I decided I best head out. Shaya put up a fuss like normal and finally let me go saying: "You're going to miss me."

Shaya died yesterday, Christmas Eve. Her last day on earth was spent talking with the San Diego Charger's LaDainian Tomlinson, better known as LT, in which she was interviewed, and subsequently on the evening news, during his time passing out presents at the hospital. Then she sweet talked the staff into giving her her Christmas presents early. Finally, she stayed up until 1am with another resident watching movies. Four hours later she passed away.

I knew when I began work at the hospital that I would experience loss. On average, a child dies at the hospital every other day. That isn't something I like to relegate to a ratio, but it is what it is. And it's not like I am a stranger to loss either. That's part of the reason why I wanted to go into this field; I know what it's like to have a loved one die. But this was Shaya , she wasn't sick, she was fine. She was not the page I was expecting to wake up to. 20 minutes later I wasn't greeted by her when I walked into her room this time rather by her intensely grieving parents. If you had told me that my Christmas Eve would be spending 4 1/2 hours being with Shaya's parents as I helped them mourn her loss and helped the staff mourn her loss, I wouldn't have wanted to believe it. But...

There is no place on earth I would have rather been at that moment than right there with them.

And she was right. I do miss her.

James Jean

I have held a love for the work of James Jean since I first stumbled upon his work while sifting through the garbage heap that is the interwebs. Ever since then I have lurked his website and blog, drooling over beautiful artwork and reading the interesting comments he put forth on his work. I would love to own one of his pieces, I often peruse his available prints looking for something that would be remotely acceptable to Rachelle.

He has a show coming up in New York. Stupid New York. Not to mention, a few months ago he announced that he would no longer be illustrating the covers for Fables. Sadness. Check out his stuff, buy it, love it, tell your friends about it.

Hitchhiker's Guide To Soft Drinks

If you find yourself travelling around the country and incredibly parched, make sure to keep this graph with you other wise you may unwittingly order the wrong soda.. er... coke... I mean... pop. Screw all of them, I ask for a Dr. Pepper! Dr. Pepper is what Jesus drinks. I bet the Anti-Christ will love Dr. Pepper too. I bet that will be confusing for them. You know when there is someone that you really can't stand, yet they have a similar love that you have? And you think to yourself: "How can they love that too? I hate everything about them" so part of you respects them for that one thing despite all the bad blood between you both. Yea, that's going to be Dr. Pepper for Jesus and, from the emails I see flying around the interwebs, Obama.

CHRI$TMA$

How much are you going to spend (already have?) on Christmas? Last year, Americans spent a whopping $474 billion dollars during the holiday season. I have included this interesting little piece of statistics for all those interested. My favorite part is the section about "holiday debt" that states that "16.8%" of total American credit card debt for 2007 was tallied during the months of November and December. Oh yea, and "1/3 of the consumers were still paying off debt from teh 2006 holday season".

Remember to make wise purchasing decisions or... "conspire".

The Crisis Is Only Just Beginning?

Per Wikipedia: "AIDS has killed more than 25 million people between 1981 and 2007, and an estimated 33 million people worldwide live with HIV as of 2007, making it one of the most destructive epidemics in recorded history. Despite recent, improved access to antiretroviral treatment and care in many regions of the world, the AIDS epidemic claimed an estimated 2 million lives in 2007, of which about 270,000 were children."

AIDS is an epidemic. In that epidemic, much has been done to combat the virus. It's been 20 years and in our financially declining country, I wonder how well our money has been spent? Don't get me wrong, I think we ought to continue to take steps to promote AIDS awareness and fight the disease. But, I think, we must also realize that it is one of many diseases out there, with others having a far worse impact than AIDS does. As staggering as the numbers above are, more children die from pneumonia than AIDS, malaria, and measles combined.

"In Ethiopia, Rwanda, Uganda and elsewhere, donations for HIV projects routinely outstrip the entire national health budgets. In a 2006 report, Rwandan officials noted a 'gross misallocation of resources' in health: $47 million went to HIV, $18 million went to malaria, the country's biggest killer, and $1 million went to childhood illnesses... But across Africa, about 1.5 million doctors and nurses are still needed, and hospitals regularly run out of basic medicines."

AIDS is a global problem. But I think it has received the financing and awareness that it has, frankly, because it's a disease that Americans face. We like to talk about AIDS, it's an acceptable part of our culture. How many people want to talk about children all over the world dying of diarrhea? How many people even think that that still occurs today?

I hope I haven't offended anyone with this. I think that AIDS research and funding are great and want to promote them. At the same time, I look around and think: "The money is going to run out sometime, who needs it the most?". I really hope that it doesn't run out and we can continue to fight suffering of all kinds and on all fronts. But as today is supposed to remind us, it takes awareness to make that happen.

26 Types Of Animals

Two loves of mine, typefaces and animals, combined into one glorious entity. What's not to love?

Sickgiving

So I wasn't feeling good (sore throat and sinuses) over Thanksgiving and continue to be a little sniffily. I am feeling much better but still a little worn down. Rachelle was in Whittier for Thanksgiving which meant me laying on the couch sucking on a cough drop and watching instant Netflix movies through my Xbox 360. That is one of the new features of Xbox Live and is really cool. Turn on the Xbox, go to my movie queue and start watching; no waiting for them to come in the mail. Their instant library is lacking but they keep adding to it all the time. Here was my Sickgiving movies:

Dog Day Afternoon
Great movie. I thought it was going to be your sort of standard bank robbery gone awry kind of movie. Of course it has that, but I was not expecting the social issues that take place in this retelling of actual events. Pacino is great. His character is real, likeable, and just in over his head. I suggest you check it out.









Ghost In The Shell
I've seen the second GitS movie and the anime series, but I had yet to see the original. If you are unfamiliar with GitS, it is the future and computerization is at a peak. The main character and most of her cohorts are either partially machine, cyborgs, or completely synthetic with nothing original than thier mind and "ghost", aka soul. The animation was fantastic, even in the action scenes. A regrettable aspect of this "watch instantly" stuff is the inability to switch language and subtitles. I'm normally not a fan of english voice acting and this was not an exception. I know it's hard to make english dialog fit and I respect them for the effort, just not my cup of tea. If you are into film in any form, check it out.



Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End
Yes, my guilty pleasure of the bunch. Some of you are thinking: "How is this one the guity pleasure?!" but it is for me. I wasn't a huge fan of this in the theaters, I thought it was adequate/good. Wanted a little Jack Sparrow and hadn't seen it since it came out so what the heck. I may have liked it better the second time, something that doesn't happen too often for me. I'm sure everyone has seen this movie so I won't explain it. It was good enough.




Blood: The Last Vampire
This was a short 40 minute action/horror jaunt into the demon slaying world. I have seen much of Blood+ but have never seen this short original picture of Saia. Production I.G have been and continue to be dope. The animation is beautiful. Here is something I don't say often, the english voice acting was good; some of the best I've heard. Possibly because both Japanese and English are present, but whatever the reason it's good. Obviously bloody and for an adult audience



THX 1138
Georg Lucas, before he became the great destroyer he is today, began as a great provider. But somewhere around 1984, I think, he went and lost his damn mind. Strangely enough this transition happened around the time he made The Ewok Adventures, an amazing piece of fail. THX 1138 is an interesting film. It's the future and drugs are mandatorily used to pacify people. The most interesting aspect to me, and this shows where my biases lie, was in the portrayal of religion in the film. Many futuristic movies tend toward a ultra modern societal view in which religion is banned or simply lost due to lack of interest. I was very interested in how "religion" was an encouraged aspect for these people, not in a spiritual sense but as another means of control. For many people today prayer is simply a coping mechanism, and the films depiction of religious activity was far more real and disturbing than a future without spirituality at all. I liked it, liked all the actors, especially liked the themes it brought to mind i.e. absence of action, religion, big brother, sexuality, etc. I suggest it for those who are into sci/fi. If you aren't a science fiction person, I would pass on it maybe.

Ghost World
Netflix suggested this movie for me, so I went for it. The movie is from 2001 and features a young Thora Birch and Scarlett Johansson as the main characters opposite a favorite actor of mine, Steve Buscemi. Buscemi plays an eclectic, nerdy guy that Birch mocks at first and then sees him as her future self. Not sure what to say about this one. I liked it well enough.









The King Of Kong
I had wanted to see this for while. This is a documentary of the battle for the high score in Donkey Kong and the men who ruin their lives in pursuit of it; I'm not sure if that's how the people view it but I sure do. This is an interesting step into gamer culture. If I may digress for a moment, I am a nerd.

We nerds can smell our own and this flick is ripe with them. There are many different types of nerds in the nerd hierarchy, but overall most will fall into a broader category of the "timid nerd". You see, nerds are used to being made fun of for their, usually, high intelligence which in turn causes the nerd to segregate themselves from the rest of humanity lest they be made fun of by the dreaded captain of the football team. Ultimately they care about how the world views them and they keep their nerdiness hidden except to those who will view their obscene amount of knowledge about a niche item as a good and enviable thing.

Occasionally there is a nerd that will arise with an ability to cross the lines of "normal" and "nerd" that usually manifests itself in something that your everyday household nerd usually lacks... self confidence. Don't get me wrong a nerd can be confident, but only in as far as their medium (video games, computers, anime, etc.) allows them to comfortably be. I'm confident enough to say that I am one of these people. My confidence came not from how smart I felt I was, or if I thought I was good looking, but merely because I didn't care what other people thought. I would go to an anime club meeting one night, playing poker another, and then be leading my floor in a revolt against the RD another night. I'm not trying to toot my own horn, whatever that means, it's just the way it was. I did what I wanted. Some people will read this or other thoughts I have written and think: "This guy is a prideful jerk" which may be the case sometimes but often I am just being me and confidence comes out. I'm human with fears too, but I guess I'm just trying to say that confidence is something others can feel and will yield to.

Now the nerd sees this person and deduces, often incorrectly, that confidence is merely an equation of actions that can be copied. In other words... they fake it. Their overcompensation is a mask to hide their fear. But they can overcompensate to a point where they fall into another official gamer category: "The Douschebag". (I imagine Eric is reading this and laughing thinking of some WoW players we have met before.) The D-Bag often is praised for his "douscebaggery" by the "padawan/leech nerds". The leech has nerdom goals for themselves but they have so aligned themselves with their Douschebag king that their own sense of being is directly effected by the victories and especially losses of the king. They envy an ability that the rest of the world sees as trite or meaningless. The D-Bag's whole world revolves round his praise and accolades from the leeches who feed the thought that his is a meaningful existence. Sad but true.

Why did I write all of this? What I just wrote is essentially the entire movie The King Of Kong.

A Diver Comes

It's been a bit of an emotional and tiring week.

On Monday I received a text from a friend saying that a student and friend of mine, Andy Caldera, had gone into the hospital and that the doctors believed he would not survive the day. Andy had been fighting an increasingly tough battle with cancer for the last 10 months. I was thankful that this was happening on a Monday, any other day and I would have been at work. So I drove up to Los Angeles to see Andy and be whatever support I could to the family.

Something that working in a hospital gives you is some insight into what can reasonably be done, especially for someone in Andy's position. I stood in the ER with the family and the doctor in charge as he began to say some things that "could" be done. As I listened to the invasive, painful, and ultimately useless procedures that the doctor dangled before the family as a glimmer of hope. I couldn't help but be saddened knowing none of them could or would be done and that the good doctor had made the inevitable all the harder. When you have a Urologist telling you what could be done in the lungs, be skeptical. I couldn't bring myself to tell Andy's dad that those things wouldn't happen, it's not my place, especially when he spoke with such hope because of what the doctor had said. Hope is not something to be dashed.

On November 17, just 10 days after his 18th birthday, Andy died in the presence of his family and friends. Andy had been in the small group I led for two years while at Wacc. In fact, he was the first student I befriended in the youth ministry. When I began volunteering in the High School Ministry, the first event I attended was the "Lasertag Overnighter". As the night began I suddenly realized that I didn't know any staff or students and that I would be locked in the same room with these complete strangers for 12 hours... it was going to be a long night. I grabbed some pizza and sat to eat alone, how I imagined most of the night would be. Then from across the room I see a big, tall, hairy high schooler wearing an Underoath shirt looking my way. He motioned to his friends and walked toward me, introducing himself as Andy. He and his friends sat down and we all started talking. One of the first things we did was play a game that would become one of our favorites: "Hot Seat". In the game the person in the hot seat has to answer any question posed no matter what it may be. I answered every question they asked, including some you don't often share with near strangers. That night the group of guys went to John, the Youth Pastor, and asked if I could be their small group leader. And thus history was made. I'm glad I was able to work with Andy and all the guys in my small group. I can honestly say that I loved them all. I don't think it was coincidence that I was their leader, or that I would be in Whittier exactly 2 years and move just as they graduated. Or that I would become a hospital chaplain and then be able to use that later with his family. Not for a second.

As I was driving back to San Diego at around 1am I began to think of a song for Andy. A song that I felt was able to encapsulate Andy's life and my feelings. If this sounds weird, it comes from when my sister died. A song that was played at her memorial was Alphaville's "Forever Young". To this day when I hear it I think of her. So now Andy needed a song, or rather I needed a song for Andy. I thought long and hard, nothing seemed right. Then I was struck with the obviousness of he choice because it is my favorite song by Sigur Ros. I opened my mouth and said the name of my favorite song of theirs, "Sæglópur". And immediately that very song began playing on the radio... did I say earlier that I don't believe in coincidence? In case you are saying: "Well of course they are playing the number one song on the pop charts!" know that this song is off an album that is 3 years old and... oh yea... in Icelandic. Not exactly something you hear on the radio, actually now that I think about it I have never heard it on the radio before that night.



It's an amazing song, so full of emotion. And that night as I drove home it was a beautiful reminder to me of Andy's struggle to survive. Sæglópur means "a lost seafarer" and any sailor worth his salt will fight to return home to his family and friends.

Sæglópur, á lífi
A lost seafarer, alive

kominn heim
has returned home

Sometimes those who are lost are able to find their way home. Sometimes those with cancer are able to fend it off and go on living their lives. As the song plays out the music slowly ramps up higher and higher to a fever pitch. I imagine the lost sailor struggling against harsh winds and heavy seas. The battle has become hopeless yet there is nothing that can be done except to push on. In a crescendo, the sailor is thrown overboard. Unlike the others that piloted their ships safely into port, there will be no triumphant homecoming. Or so he thinks.

það kemur kafari
a diver comes

kominn heim
has returned home

Out of the murky depths a diver comes for the unlucky sæglópurs who never made it home in this life. The diver makes the journey for them and brings them home once again. And as I think of Andy taking his final breath in that hospital room, in my mind a diver comes. A diver came to bring Andy to his eternal home. At the moment Andy died their was a feeling of peace where we all silently waited. Before I even knew he was gone, we knew. It had changed, the air had changed. His struggle was over and we were all relieved.


This is for the sæglópur, finally at home. I will miss you.

In Flanders Fields

Being Veterans/Remembrance Day and all, I thought this reflection was rather appropriate.

Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae was a Canadian born physician, professor, author, poet, and soldier. When World War I broke out, McCrae was appointed a field surgeon in the 1st Field Artillery Brigade and head of the field hospital during the Second Battle Of Ypres. Death was a matter of sort during these days of intense fighting. Yet one death in particular stung deeper. Lt. Alexis Helmer had been a student and friend of McCrae prior to the war, and on May 2, 1915 he was killed in battle. In the absence of a chaplain, McCrae presided over the funeral for his fallen friend.
Shortly afterword he wrote In Flanders Fields:

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below...

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields...

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields...

The poem has the obvious call to continue the ongoing struggle of one country against another and, in fact, this poem was used as a rally cry to bring the USA into WWI. But I think, and I like to think that McCrae thought as well, that war is not simply a reason for humanity to fight. That his war, and all wars to follow, were fought for the minds and hearts of both the allies and the enemies. What they were fighting against wasn't just the figures across "no man's land", they fought for an ideal. They fought to quail the injustices that the powerful perpetrated on the weak. Hatred and prejudice would not be allowed to flourish. These are the messages that I believe were in the hearts of those on the front lines.

As I think about our world today, the battle has been brought to our doorstep. We fight that same fight everyday in our homes with our families, on the job, wherever we might be. The question remains: Will we allow hate, prejudice and injustice to reign? It's a battle that is right in front of us, but unlike real combat, we must choose whether we will fight.

I'm Calling CPS, Father William

In continuing with previous reflections, one I did a few weeks ago.

I had become struck by the fact that many of the children who are patients in the hospital happen to display coping skills beyond expectation and, consequently, beyond their parents as well. The truth of the matter is that many of these kids are far more accepting of their diagnoses than their parents are, no matter the prognosis. Yet at the same time it is easy to go into a room and dismiss the patients ideas about their future because of their age. Or worse, expect the patient to not understand what is happening to them at all and then completely ignore the meaning they have come up with to help themselves through the situation.

I have seen parents grow more and more distant from their children, to the point that they stop visiting. I have seen parents take fantastic care of their children, being 100% supportive. It's not that all family's are bad or good, it's about how well they are able to mold themselves to their current situation. Frankly, children are often better at rolling with the punches than most adults.

A child's life is not wrapped around an ideal. Parents come in with beliefs, expectations, understandings of what life is and how it "ought" to work. Kids don't have that rigidness. And this is completely a side note, please don't "explain" death as: "You go to be with Jesus". That is not an answer, it's a loaded statement that they really don't understand and then the chaplain gets to unpack that for them into a way they can understand. Death is part of life so explain it in simple, clear, honest, and understandable terms. The sooner you do it the better. Acceptance of death as a natural thing will save them years of misery in the long run.

As I began to think of these sage-like children I remembered Lewis Carrol's: You Are Old, Father William.
"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head--
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown must uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned back a somersault in at the door--
Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment--one shilling a box--
Allow me to sell you a couple."

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eyes was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you downstairs!"

The poem describes a youth who continually questions the wisdom of his elder and rightly so. In the end the father answers, as many parents do when they are asked a lot of questions, with the non-answer of: "Because I said so".

My message to the other chaplains was not to discount any of our patients because of their age and don't expect bountiful wisdom from all parents because of their age. Instead we must be prepared for anything, to be anything that is needed. Because everyone is in need of something: wisdom, comfort, understanding, hope, someone to listen, someone to play a video game. But not everyone is willing to take the time to find out what it is. Really, it's easier to check out their cover, make a judgment, and then give them what you think they need.

Where Soul Meets Body

I know I haven't been writing much lately. I've been busy and nothing has seemed to come up to write about. A thought I had a while ago was to share the reflections I have done with the other chaplains. This was today's reflection.

Last week I was listening to Pandora.com (all thanks go to Dan) and listened to a song I hadn't heard in a long time and a band that I don't normally listen to while partaking of the Muse station: "Soul Meets Body" by Death Cab For Cutie. During my reflection I played the song and typed out the lyrics for everyone to have.



For some reason I was particularly struck by the song at this time. I had heard it before but something had changed. It had a different meaning this go around for me. As I was listening to the beginning:

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new

Here is, what I presume to be, some sort of immaterial being who wants desperately to become human, the only way for a soul and body to be one. Life is beautiful and it wants to experience what it can only be an observer of.

Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station
Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations
So they may have a chance of finding a place
where they’re far more suited than here

The bus station has sort of become an iconic spot for a new beginning. You can get anywhere you want at the least expensive price. It reminds me of Red from "The Shawshank Redemption" as he rides the greyhound to his new life and says: "I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope". It's knowing we are finally where we belong.

And I cannot guess what we'll discover
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s
And not one speck will remain

A new life doesn't mean it will be perfect, you still get your hands dirty, but it's worth it. And perhaps most importantly is that we are not alone in this journey.

As I think about my work, it is easy to focus on death. Death is all around. Hell, last week I saw a dead kid in one of the morgue freezers. A kid we had been visiting and had died over the weekend. With babies in the NICU going through so much to live and generally kids spending more time in the hospital than school it's easy to think of them not getting to live a "full life"... however you measure that.

But as I was listening to this song I had thought that went through my head that I enjoyed a great deal. Perhaps all our souls were like the beginning of this song, aching so badly to live. The baby in the NICU, the kid on Hem/Onc with cancer, or the little one in PICU all decided to live despite knowing full well the pains that they might one day face because of how amazing it would be. It is where they belong, no matter how short or long it may be.

And if you are reading this thinking that they didn't get to make a difference, it couldn't be further from the truth. The effect of the lives of these kids, whether 1 day or 17 years, has a profound impact on so many people. It's amazing to see.

Conversations In A Hospital II

(Guy is wearing a Boba Fett shirt) "We could watch Return Of The Jedi."
"You don't want to do that. Boba Fett dies in that one."
"Oh yea that's true."
"How is it that the galaxy's most feared bounty hunter is killed by falling into a pit because of a jet pack malfunction? It's just such an ignominious death."
"Yea that sucked."

"Adult cats are lactose intolerant. Why do people always want to give them milk?"
"Can you milk a cat?"
"Oh yea, you can milk anything with nipples."

"What kind of Baptists were they?"
"The kind that dance."
"That reminds me of the joke about the Hassidic rabbi who says all sexual positions are acceptable except for one: standing up because that could lead to dancing."
"That wasn't at all inappropriate."

"I spent some time in Mesa Vista."
"The psych hospital? Why?"
"I was diagnosed as Bipolar. People there were crazy. There was this guy always looking at me and waving me over to his room and wanting me to try and let him out. No way I was going to try and let him out. When people got too crazy they got the booty juice".
"What's the booty juice?"
"I don't know. But nurses came in with a huge needle and you got it in the booty."
"What happened to them?"
"After that they were taken away; I never saw them again. I made sure not to get the booty juice."
"It was for the best, I'm sure."

(Med student walks up) "Are you the Neurologist?"
"Heh.. no. I'm the chaplain."
"Oh ok."
"But if you like I can tell you how the brain works?"
"Yea?"
"Magic. If you have any other brain related questions don't hesitate to ask."

"Mi nombre es Ryan, soy el capellan de este hospital. ?Sabe usted que es un capellan?"
"No."
"Un capellan es un pastor que trabaja en hospitales. Como un sacerdote."
"Oh, sacerdote, si. Gracias para visitas."
"De nada."

"You remember your teacher last year in 2nd grade? What was her name?"
"Mrs. Smith. She loves vodka."
"God bless children."

(In Med/Surg interdisciplinary rounds)
"This kiddo had an open wound and fell at a farm and now his leg is septic."
"Ugh. Who knows what he could have fallen in. Place is probably crawling with Mad Cow disease or something."
"Hey! I grew up on a farm!"
"That explains a lot."

"Hi I'm a chaplain."
"Nobody's dying, we don't need a priest."
"Well, that's good because I'm not a priest."
"I'm Agnostic!"
"Great. So what brings you to the hospital?"

"Let me ask you something. Do they hire good looking people here on purpose?"
"What?"
"The staff here are all young and hot. I've worked in places where bosses hired the prettiest people to help with customer service."
"Well the medical profession is a young field and we are in San Diego so maybe that brings the good looking folks."
"I don't know how you guys get any work done."

More...more...more...

Striving For Normal

Working in a hospital is like traipsing through a Salvador Dali painting.

Everyone there knows something is wrong but they can't quite put their finger on it. They walk through the halls convincing themselves that what they see at every turn is normal. It is most certainly not normal. When I first started working I thought I was going to need to prepare myself ala Dave Chapelle when he describes preparing himself for going to the ghetto: "I'm gonna see some loud shit, I need to prepare myself. I'm gonna see something crazy". And crazy is there, don't get me wrong. But by the time the crazy comes you've already been lulled into a stupor by the constant state of sickness, of the unknown, anxiousness, shattered hopes, the 5th last straw. The way it sneaks up on you is sinister. Soon all of that becomes what we call "normal". If you aren't tracking with me, let me describe a recent situation.

A person codes, which is hospital talk for drops dead, in the middle of a hall surrounded by children and myself. During all this a fellow chaplain who was there asked me if I wouldn't mind terribly grabbing his lunch that was left in the cafeteria when he came up. I happily obliged him. It was around that time, when shouts of: "Eppy now!" rang through the unit, life hung in the balance, and with children screaming that the San Diego Chargers cheerleaders came prancing into the unit heading directly into this divine comedy. They waved their pom poms as if cheering death toward the goal line. He must have been inspired that day, it was 1st and inches. Sadly, I had to leave the game, I had plans of my own. I was late to play video games with a patient before he went to surgery. I won, 4-0. Not sure how well Death rounded out the day but I know of 1 victory for sure. You keep telling yourself this can't possibly be real, can it?

I now see part of my job is to be a remembrance to the patients and families of what normal actually is, standing as an effigy of what life is for most and ought to be for them as well. The only problem is that effigies have a tendency of getting burned.

A song always comes to mind when I'm trying to describe this feeling: Pearl Jam - Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town << right click and listen in a new tab

I seem to recognize your face.
Haunting familiar, yet I can't seem to place it.
Cannot find the candle of thought to light your name.
Lifetimes are catching up with me.
All these changes taking place.
I wish I'd seen the place but no one's ever taken me.

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.

I swear I recognize your breath.
Memories, like fingerprints, are slowly raising.
Me you wouldn't recall for I'm not my former.
It's hard when your stuck upon the shelf.
I changed by not changing at all.
Small town predicts my fate.
Perhaps that's what no one wants to see.
I just want to scream, "Hello."
My god its been so long.
Never dreamed you'd return.
But now here you are and here I am.
Hearts and thoughts they fade away.

Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.
Hearts and thoughts they fade away. Yeah.
Hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away.
Hearts and thoughts they fade...

Conversations In A Hospital

"I like to listen to metal. I have a bunch of Ozzy Osbourne records."
"So you like Black Sabbath? Are you into Led Zeppelin at all."

"I've been playing some video games, but they aren't very good."
"What do they have?"
"Thrillville."
"Isn't that the game where you make roller coasters?"
"Yea."
"Yea, that's no good."

"Hello, I'm a chaplain."
"It's alright, no thanks."

"I was walking down the street in broad day light and two men grabbed me and tried to kidnap me. One of them had a knife and he stabbed me here in the shoulder. Ever since then I pray a lot."
"I bet."

"I want to have 3 inch spikes drilled into my spine. It's gonna be cool."
"How are you going to sit in a chair?"

"Did Jesus have a last name? Was it Christ?"
"No, I think he was like Prince and Madonna."
"Jesus H Christ. And what does the H stand for?"
"Hoobastank."

"I'm looking forward to Friday night karaoke at the Convalescent Hospital."
"I'm bringing a video camera."

"How was the luau at lunch?"
"Good. Smoke from the BBQ was getting sucked into the Operating Rooms though. The surgeons are pissed."
"Did they stop the BBQ?"
"Nope."

"How did you get hurt?"
"Playing football."
"What position do you play?"
"Defensive Tackle."
"Hmmm... I guess I better pray that you get bigger too."

"Have any of your friends come to visit you?"
"No. I haven't told them that I'm in the hospital."
"Why not?"
"It's embarrassing."
"Being in the hospital doesn't mean you're weak, it just means you're human."

*Finish praying*
"I'm sorry I'm crying."
"You don't need to apologize."

More to come...

Red Ring Of Death

We all live with fear to some extent.

For example, I have always been afraid of heights, they just make me very uncomfortable. I don't how I worked as a High Adventure Guide when I worked at Hume Lake. Even watching something on TV where guys are on top of high high rise buildings or something will cause me to sweat a little. Granted my TV with HD is more clear then when I look out a window, but still.

Another great fear that I have, a great fear that all Xbox 360 owners have, is the Red Ring Of Death. It means that your console has had a major hardware failure, usually because the console has overheated. Then it magically becomes a $400 paper weight.That right there is the Red Ring Of Death. Not any old generic picture of the Red Ring Of Death. That is my Red Ring Of Death. Yea. Luckily, Microsoft knows that they really screwed up in making their GPU from thier own specs and sending it to Taiwan for 10 year olds in sweat shops to make rather than sending it to a reputable producer. So a RROD means you can get a free fix no matter when your warranty expired; mine expired in May.

All I wanted to do was have a nice quiet Sunday at home killing zombies. Nope. Hopefully in a few weeks I can get back on the horse.

So a Rabbi, a Catholic, a Evangelical, a Unitarian and two Seventh Day Adventists walk into a Children's Hospital...

The beginning of of bad joke? Nope... my hospital chaplaincy program has begun.

I'm about a week into the CPE Chaplaincy Internship at Rady Children's Hospital. As you have already read, the interns are all from varying backgrounds. It's been fun the last few days, all the interns are very curious about the others beliefs, denominations, how a worship service works, everything. We did a meditation together the other day by reading through a Psalm. I couldn't help but think about how I could probably count all the people at Talbot who would feel comfortable doing this spiritual exercise on one hand. The fact that I am completely comfortable is one of the reasons why I feel like this is where I ought to be. And I know I will be helping people in great need.

I am by far the youngest; probably have about a decade on the next person and most others are in their 40's. If I were at a normal hospital I may have felt at a disadvantage because of this. I have already felt the ageism of being a young chaplain when I was going around with Pastor Curt in Whittier. But at a Children's Hospital I feel like my age is now an advantage. I'm used to working with Jr. High and High School aged students and this will be much the same in that regard.

I said I would be getting to help people in great need. The despair is written all over the faces of the people when you walk down the hall. I have barely been in the hospital except for a tour and you couldn't walk through a unit without seeing the familiar sight of red eyes and the lumbering shuffle of a parent with the weight of life and death on their back. They all look for a place to hide, a bench or elevator, away from the children to whom they say everything will be ok.

It makes me sad to think about but excited to know that I will help.