Author Archives: Suzanne Montgomery

Sacred Silence

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The moon is full and bright this morning. The house is quiet. I can hear the cats paws moving across the hardwood floors. The coffee pot is making a clicking noise in the kitchen. Silence is sacred. It is the space in which God speaks. Prayer is often too much talking and not enough listening. If I have learned anything from the mindfulness practices shared during my “Cultivating Reverence for Living” sessions, it is to value silence. How I wish that I could let go of judgement and just listen. I wonder how much more I would have accomplished had I only stopped talking, stopped debating long enough to hear someone else’s thoughts. Or God’s thoughts, for that matter. I bring prejudgment to every situation. I admit this. It’s very difficult to be neutral on a subject. I wish that I could just stop and say to myself, “I don’t know everything about this situation. Let me listen so I may find out more.” This would save so much conflict in my soul. My reactionary attitude would then be replaced by a sense of curiosity.

Every time I react negatively, the cortisol levels rise in my body and adrenaline surges. My adrenals were not meant to be overused this way. The system was meant to take action only in a crisis, “fight or flight” mode. But activating it constantly with the least provocation is destroying my body from the inside out. Centering meditation, deep breathing, yoga and Qigong disrupt this ugly cycle. These practices allow space for silence and for prayer. In this sacred space of silence, the body and the mind are healed. Even Jesus went away to a quiet place to pray regularly. Shouldn’t we do the same?

My mornings to read the Bible and write offer a bit of this space. But it is not enough. During these times, I must watch the clock to make sure I am not late for work. I was so thankful during the mindfulness sessions at Seton Cove Retreat Center that there were no clocks on the walls. I had never noticed this when I have been there before. Surely this was done purposefully. It is a quiet space, a sacred space set aside for respite where clock watching is not allowed.

A physical place to go for silence is a blessing but a quiet inner space is a necessity. If I develop an inner space of silence, then nothing the world throws at me will be able to destroy it. I cannot create this space in my own power but God’s Spirit working within me is able. “Abide with me and I will abide with you.” The Spirit abiding in me creates an inner sanctuary. Let me go to this sacred place regularly and there I will find peace.

 

Remember the Details

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Yesterday was my little sister’s birthday. Gaynelle would have been 47 if she were still with us. It has been 42 years since she died. Such a long period of time has passed-almost half a century! Time is meaningless. For when a person is gone who was dearly loved, the love doesn’t go away with time. The pain from missing them fades but love and longing remain.

I don’t think of Gaynelle everyday as I did right after the accident but little things will remind me of her. Another child will have a blanket or scarf as she used to carry. A very blond little girl will bring back memories of her. Sometimes she just pops in my head out of nowhere and I will feel the familiar dull ache for her. I wish I could remember more of the everyday details. I don’t think I paid enough attention to all that she did when she was around. I was busy with high school and my part-time job at my dad’s airport. I never really imagined that there wouldn’t be another day to watch her and play with her. The expectation was that she would always be there, a little sister forever. But then suddenly, she was gone.

If this experience, has taught me anything, it is that life is fleeting. In one split second, my world was totally changed with all of my family. What was 5 was now 4. I don’t want  fear to turn me into one who worries at every turn what’s to happen next. Will there be other tragedies and suffering? The answer is yes. Absolutely. None of us is immune. Jesus pretty much assured it when he said, “In the world you will have trouble”. But he added, “Take heart, for I have overcome the world.”

When something bad does happen, I don’t want that experience to transform me into a worrier who doesn’t enjoy life. Instead, I want to pay attention more to the details, to take in every wonderful part of those I love and store them in my heart. Even if they are separated from me by distance or by death, they are still deep within me. Their every moment is a cherished memory to be brought out of storage and held again in joy.

I have these cherished memories with Gaynelle but I wish there were more. She was with us less than 5 years. So little time to fill me up with memories. But some people have their loved ones for a much briefer time. I think of a friend who lost her granddaughter shortly after birth. Her daughter and son-in-law only had their baby girl for a few days, not years. But they made memories in the short time they had together.

In remembering Gaynelle, I am reminded of how brief our time really is in this life. Even 70-80 years go by in a blink of an eye. Remember, remember to not take any moment for granted. Enjoy the little details-the smiles, the laughter, even the tears. I don’t know what tomorrow brings. I hope it brings many more cherished moments. But if it doesn’t, I will store all of them I have been given joyfully in my heart.

Making a New Thing

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I was so tempted this last week to clean out my flower beds. The sun was shining. The rain had stopped and everything was beginning to bud. But having lived in Indiana my whole life, I knew it was too soon. New growth needs to be protected by the old dead leaves and plants for a time before it is strong enough to survive. I knew the cold would come again before spring was truly sprung. Today the temperatures are in the teens and snow has been falling off and on for the past 2 days. Indiana weather is predictably unpredictable. I’m so glad that I waited.

But when is the right time to pull off the old so that new growth can be revealed? This is the eternal question asked over many facets of life. Is it the right time to leave the old to start something new? Often old and new must co-habit together for a period.The new is protected like the old leaves protecting the tender spring plants. But at some point, the old must be thrown off or it begins to inhibit the new growth rather than protect it. What is hidden is choked off, never revealed, because the old didn’t allow it. Old ways can hide new opportunities. They can consume us, making change impossible.

After much prayer and pondering, I chose to throw off the old to begin something new. I started working at Raphael Health Center in downtown Indianapolis in early February. It is risky business leaving a sure thing for the unknown. But I felt the Lord moving me forward. My time with IU Health was done. I had accomplished the thing I had set out to do. The Wayne and Washington Township clinics are thriving and ready to move up to higher levels with new providers. They have grown so much that it was impossible for me to manage both of them any longer. This provided a good time for me to leave. It’s always difficult, however, to leave the people in a place more than the place itself. I miss my co-workers and the friends I made along the way. My heart is still with them and my hope is to continue those friendships on a different level now.

God was calling me to Raphael Health Center. I have circled around it for years, doing mission work in the city as a volunteer but not really settling in to living my career as a mission. There is a big difference. Now that I am here, I am fully appreciating this. I have never worked long-term with such a challenging population. Their needs are great and their resources are few. Raphael is a beacon of light in their hopelessness. I may be there to provide healthcare but I could see immediately that my main purpose was to give hope. Where there is no hope, there is no healing. One must proceed the other.

If those of us at Raphael can keep our focus on being the light in this present darkness, then much can be accomplished. We do have resources to make a difference as a Federally Qualified Health Center. But it is easy to become overwhelmed by the vastness of the challenge. Help is offered but it is often not embraced for many reasons: lack of knowledge, transportation issues, cultural and language barriers, addictions, joblessness, disabilities. The list of roadblocks to healthier living is endless. Steadily, slowly, we are changing the neighborhood, one person at a time. In the process, we are being changed into image bearers.  We bear the hope and healing given by the Great Physician.

I can see now that the Lord has been molding me for this work for years but I have resisted. He has and is in the process of making me into the person He created me to be. But the old must be thrown off like dead leaves in a spring garden so the new may burst forth.

“See, I am making a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”  Isaiah 43:19

 

Breathe

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imageI started reading “Ecclesiastes” this morning. I am making my way slowly through the Bible, one chapter at a time. Here I am at this odd book probably written by King Solomon in his old age. It seems a work of a grumpy old man bemoaning his life. “Meaningless, meaningless. Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless…a chasing after the wind.” Some versions use the word “vanity” instead of meaningless. Vanity insinuates that the chasing was for Solomon’s own gain and this has been found to be meaningless.

Day in and day out the mundane occurrences can seem meaningless. Yet, God knows how many hairs are on my head. He saw me in the womb before I was born. He bottles my tears. If all is meaningless, why bother with us, Lord? Perhaps in reality, everything is meaningful. What if all of life had purpose and meaning even the most mundane?

I admit to not taking my days seriously. What did I do yesterday that was meaningful? Seemed like a chasing after the wind that cannot be caught. Trying to find papers that were dropped off at the clinic but they are nowhere to be found. Trying to juggle work and home. Tomatoes growing out of my ears! Perhaps it is the chasing that is meaningless. If I slow down to enjoy each moment, then I find meaning. The world will not end if the papers are never found. It will not end if my garden has weeds, the house is unkempt and all the tomatoes don’t get used.

Stop…just a moment to breathe. Breathe in the Spirit of my Creator who created me for meaning. Stop chasing and just be present. It’s difficult because the craziness of life does not end. I am not going to have a vacation from it just now. I am in a season of busyness and I need to keep moving forward. But I don’t have to attach significance to things that don’t really matter. Breathe. Enjoy the beauty of the sunrise. Revel in the laugh of a child. Embrace the ones I love. Breathe. Meaning is in every moment but meaning gets attached to the wrong things.

Breathe

Angels Watching Over Me

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I have great respect for the power of lightning. This last week a huge wild cherry tree in our imagebackyard was struck by lightning, breaking off a large branch and peeling off the bark. We had no harm to the house but the invisible fence transmitter for our dogs was destroyed, flying off the wall of the garage at least 10 feet. Thankfully, this did not start a fire in the garage. We were very lucky. The damage could have been much worse.

Several years ago, when we lived in Zionsville, our house was struck by lightning. It hit with a terrible boom just around midnight. I looked all around the house for damage or possible fire but could find nothing so I went to bed. My habit every morning was to shower before waking the kids and going downstairs for breakfast. For some reason, that morning I did not. I went downstairs first. When I entered the kitchen, I heard a noise that was unusual. This was a sound I had heard before in a hospital. It was like oxygen coming out of a cylinder with the valve opened completely. I could tell that It was coming from the basement. As I opened the door, the smell of gas was overwhelming. I knew immediately that we were in great danger. I quickly woke Rozie and Garrett. Anna was not at home that night. We walked down to my sister’s house in our PJ’s. I didn’t dare open the garage door or start the car for fear that I would ignite the gas in the basement. There had to be a huge leak for me to hear it. If I had been thinking more clearly, I would have turned off the power to the house which was just next to the door of the garage. But my first thoughts were just on getting out of the house to safety. I called the gas company from Beth’s  and they came immediately. Thankfully, I was able to dress in some of Beth’s clothes to meet the gas guy in something other than my pajamas. As we walked up the drive to the house, his gas detector began to make clicking noises. He remained calm but I could tell he was quite concerned. “Where is your power shut-off?” he asked. “It is usually with your fuse box.” He quickly flipped the power switch off and turned the gas off at the main line outdoors. We were not to go in the house all day even to open windows until the gas had time to dissipate. When a repairman was able to investigate, he found that the lightning had made hundreds of small holes the size of penny nails in the gas line entering the house. The gas was filling our basement all night as we slept. If even the gas water heater had kicked on, the house would have blown up. We were sleeping on a bomb.

The power of lightning is phenomenal. We had many items damaged by it that night including the computer board in our furnace, TV’s and computers. They were not preserved even with surge protectors. But our lives were preserved. We could have easily all died. Why didn’t I shower first that morning? Why did I go to the kitchen first so I heard the gas leak? I believe the Lord was with us. His angels were watching over us, prompting me to change my normal daily habits. I don’t understand the “why” of it all but Garrett said it best, “Mom, I guess God has more for us to do.” Yes, son, he does.

“Though the Lord is on high, he looks upon the lowly but the proud he knows from afar. Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the anger of my foes, with your right hand, you save me. The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me. Your love, O Lord, endures forever. Do not abandon the works of your hands.”           Psalm 138:6-8

I praise the Lord. By his grace, I live and have my being. May he fulfill his purposes through me and my children, now and forever.

 

 

Love Never Fails

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imageYesterday the news was full of the violence in Dallas. Five police officers and 2 others in the crowd of demonstrators are dead and many others injured. The crowd was peacefully demonstrating against the shooting of 2 black men in Minnesota and Baton Rouge when the violence began. The shooter took aim above them all, particularly picking out white police officers to target. Later he was killed by a robotic bomb to stop his tirade.

Violence always begets violence. Violence never leads to peace-not real peace. Real peace is only achieved through forgiveness and reconciliation. When we seek to understand people who are different from ourselves rather than fear or hate them, this is the first step to peaceful existence.

I guess I am just strange because I have always enjoyed meeting people who were different from myself. I have learned so much from conversations with them. My private practice before starting with IU Health was very diverse. I had patients of every race, numerous faiths and people from all over the world: Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Filipino, Cambodian, Russian, Romanian, Nigerian, Liberian, Polish, French, English, Colombian, Haitian.  The list goes on and on. I had a number of patients from the LGTB community too. I wanted everyone to feel welcome and cared for regardless of color, culture or lifestyle.

Early in my practice, I mourned the death of 2 of these patients from HIV/AIDS. We didn’t know much in the late 80’s of how to control this disease. At that time, it was a death sentence for anyone who acquired it . Thank goodness, research has helped millions to live with the HIV virus now. I will never forget one of these patients, Roger, a gay, Black man, as he was dying from the complications of AIDS. He had such a kind, gentle spirit throughout tremendous suffering. At one time, he had sores over his whole body from the disease. His sister was his caregiver but he had never told her that he was gay or that he was HIV positive. I encouraged him to confide in her and he finally did shortly before he passed away. She told me one day outside of his hospital room that she had already sensed the truth. She said Roger always made her wear gloves and took great precautions when she changed the dressings on his wounds. He was always protective of her. Knowing the truth did not change how she felt for her brother. Love does not change, no matter the circumstance. My eyes tear up as I write this because it was beautiful to witness such love and courage.

People, love crosses all boundaries. When we take the time to look beyond externals, beyond skin color and labels, we see real people who are much like ourselves. We may not agree with each other on many issues but we can enjoy each other on our common ground, if we are willing. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. Love never fails. Love wins.

Be willing to reach out to someone who is different from yourself. Listen to them. Try to understand who they are. Agree to disagree in areas that can’t be reconciled. If each of us did this with even one or two people in our part of the world, the effect would be staggering.

None of us directly caused the shootings in Dallas, Minnesota or Baton Rouge. But each of us is accountable for the present culture of violence we live in. When we stay in our own comfortable group of people who are just like us, we promote division. This holds true for everyone: Black, White, Hispanic, every culture, creed and lifestyle. We all tend to stay in our own groups. We must purposefully cross racial and cultural lines. We must get to know each other in personal ways. This is the way love spreads, one person at a time, one relationship at a time.

This is my challenge and your challenge. This is my hope.

A Symphony of Souls

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imageYesterday we hosted an Open House at our home for my stepson, Jack. This was a celebration of his recent graduation from High School but also a send off to Basic Training at Fort Benning, Georgia on July 5th. It seems fitting that he leaves to begin serving his country in the military the day after Independence Day. Jack is the baby of our family, all grown up and serious about what challenges lie ahead. We’re both very proud of him as were the many others who joined us yesterday to wish him well. We had family to celebrate, of course, but my mother noted about mid-afternoon how many people from our church had come out as well. They came to show their support of Jack  which meant so much to all of us. We have only attended this church for less than 4 years but the members have surrounded us with love and caring right from the moment we first stepped into their doors. This still amazes me.

It should not amaze me that this level of caring still exists. But there is so much unkindness in the world that when I see true kindness that is given without any expectation of return, it feels like such a treasure. I look around me and am thankful to God for this pocket of goodness that surrounds me. Community is something to be cherished but it is a vanishing commodity. We often blame our transient society on its demise but it’s more than that. As a society, we don’t value community. Maybe we’re even a little fearful of it. It’s much easier to hide our faults and flaws behind facades if we function in all areas of life as independent, separate individuals. In community we’re vulnerable. We’re accountable to the larger group. We all have our parts to play in the whole and if we don’t play those parts, the whole suffers. But the reverse is also true. If we play our parts, as many instruments in an orchestra, then we produce a beautiful melody, much deeper and richer than one instrument alone. Each individual functions better in supportive community.

Anymore though, most of us don’t seek community. We don’t know the people living around us in our neighborhoods and we have very little comradery in our workplaces. We have a type of community with our kids’ sports teams but it has an adversarial mentality. I’ve seen more hatefulness at Little League and soccer games than I wish to mention. But the church is not always the caring community that it should be. There is divisiveness brought on by selfishness and personal control issues that drive people away. However, when the church exists as it was envisioned by the apostles, it is a beautiful thing to behold.

One of my favorite passages in scripture is the roll call of the faithful people listed in the book of Hebrews. From Noah and Abraham to Sampson and the prostitute, Rahab, the writer lists heroes of the faith from past times.  I have always found it comforting to know that we are surrounded by this “great cloud of witnesses.” But I now think I only partially understood this passage. Yes, it speaks of people of faith who have gone before to pave the way but it also speaks of those who are walking with us now. We have a great cloud of witnesses on the earth today who tirelessly encourage us, lift us up, pray for us, and hold us accountable. They are the ones who anonymously give a gift to help a single mom or give an elderly neighbor a ride to the grocery. Sometimes we know who these faithful ones are but many times we don’t. They are all over the world doing their part, playing their instruments even if no one is listening. Somewhere in heaven there is a list, like the list in Hebrews, with their names on it.Their individual notes combine to form the greatest orchestra that is the present day cloud of witnesses. I personally know some of these people and I am ever thankful to be a part of their faith community. I know that I am a better person for it.

 

 

Restoring Freedom

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Anyone who really knows me, knows that I love to hike. If I can’t be hiking in a state park, I take walks down the country roads near my home in rural Sheridan. Today was a perfect day for a walk down to the turkey farm with the sun shining brightly and a light, cool breeze. The wild flowers and the grasses are tall along the edge of the roadway and I couldn’t help but touch the tops of them with my hand as I strolled along. What freedom I have that I don’t often ponder enough to appreciate.

My heart aches for those who have had their freedom stolen from them. I have been deluded into thinking that slavery was abolished over a century ago but that thinking was wrong. Today it is estimated that world wide at least 27 million people are held in slavery. This is more than at the height of the slave trade in the 1800’s prior to the Emancipation Proclamation. We don’t tend to call it slavery anymore but name this despicable practice “Human Trafficking”. It is slavery just the same. Much of it is sex trafficking and forced labor. A large portion of its victims are children. These children are held against their will and are used as commodities to profit their captors. The average age of children held in sex trafficking is 12-14 but some are younger than 5. Their stories are heartbreaking.

Last evening the Sheridan Reader’s Club invited the community to the library for a discussion of the book, “Ruby”, a modern day story of human trafficking. It is a fictional work set in the small town in Liberty, Texas but is based on situations experienced personally by the author.  Life in Liberty was the antithesis of freedom for Ruby. As a child she was trafficked by people she should have been able to trust and as an adult she struggled to keep her sanity while memories haunted her. This book destroys the presumption that human trafficking is a problem somewhere else in the world. It is in our own backyard.

During our discussion last evening, a presentation was given by local resident, Clair Sample on her experience working with trafficked girls in India. She made a statement that many of the girls rescued had been housed by their captors in rooms no bigger than one of our closets. They would only be out of this containment to be forced to have sex with sometimes more than 20 men a day. Only around 1% of those trafficked are ever rescued. The average lifespan of these victims is 34 years old. Most die from homicide.

The statistics are dismal. What can one person do to make an impact in such an enormous world-wide problem? Mother Teresa once said, “I alone cannot change the world but I can cast a stone across the waters and create ripples.” She certainly created a lot of ripples in her lifetime and so can we. Indiana has a task force called IPATH, Indiana Protection for Abused and Trafficked Humans. Their focus is on education to create awareness so trafficked individuals can be recognized and rescued. They also have a curriculum for middle and high school students to help them avoid being vulnerable to trafficking themselves. Later this summer and next fall, we will be utilizing the expertise of the IPATH facilitators to educate the Sheridan community and students about human trafficking. This was developed through the Attorney General’s office and is free to anyone requesting this educational service.

Freedom is a precious gift that can easily be taken away. I enjoy my freedom while others are held captive. To live comfortably and do nothing is not an option. A prolific writer and holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel, spoke of the perils of inaction. “Indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor—never the victim, whose pain is magnified when he or she feels forgotten. The political prisoner in his cell, the hungry children, the homeless refugees—not to respond to their plight, not to relieve their solitude by offering them a spark of hope, is to exile them from human memory. And in denying their humanity, we betray our own.”

The first step in solving Human Trafficking is the recognition of its existence. The freedom to walk in the sunshine, to touch flowers growing along the roadside, to feel the cool breeze, should not be a privilege enjoyed by some but denied to millions. Once I realized that slavery is more prolific now than ever, I feel compelled to become a modern day abolitionist. As those who have come before me, I can cast a stone to create ripples in the water and be the spark of hope for the captives. One person joined together with other caring souls can make a difference if only we choose to take that first step.

 

 

Fighting the Good Fight

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imageIt’s the day after the Central Indiana Komen Race for the Cure. I’m a bit sore. It didn’t help that my daughter Rozie, wanted to show me her office in the One America building before the race. The elevator would not let us off at the 22nd floor but took us up to the top. We tried to walk down from there but her ID badge didn’t work to let us out of the stairwell. Let me tell you, walking down 36 flights of stairs is a killer quad exercise-literally. After this we walked the 5K. My 57 year old body was not up for this. But we had great fun and I’m glad I did it.

I know that not everyone agrees with the mission of the Susan B Komen foundation. Believe me, I heard it as I tried to get donations for the race. But regardless of the fact that more money is spent fundraising than what is actually spent on cancer research, I would like to suggest that the Race for the Cure is about a much greater cause.

Most people see cancer as a physical fight for life. But it is even more, a spiritual battle of the mind and will. I’ve spend more than 30 years in the medical field and I’ve witnessed the warfare and walked beside those fighting the good fight more times than I can remember. It’s an honor to be allowed in this confidential space. I have listened to the fear and worry that couldn’t be expressed to family members. Most times, these were not concerns about themselves but for those they were leaving behind. The questions were out of love. “How will my granddaughter take my passing?” or “Who will care for my dogs when I am gone?” Even though they were suffering, their thoughts were always on how their loved ones were coping. Often they would agree to more treatment because their family wanted it, even when they knew in their heart that the fight was done. Over the years, I have learned more about how to live by walking with those who were dying.

So as I see it, the Komen Race for the Cure, is not really about raising money to fight cancer. It is an act of solidarity. There were many cancer survivors there yesterday but there were many more people who participated to simply to show their support. In essence, it was a statement to all those with cancer, “I will walk with you.” This is the strongest promise ever made to someone fighting the good fight. You are not alone, we are standing with you. When you are too weak to go on, we will hold you in our arms. This is an act of love.

For all my cancer patients, those who are survivors and those who have passed on to the next life free of sickness forever, this is for you.