Again, angels

 It’s funny,  it was just on the 12th that I posted on my blog a piece I called “Angels to each other,” inspired by my experience of the Emergency Room at UVA hospital, some years earlier.

Today I spent in the Emergency Room at Martha Jefferson Hospital, and had an equally positive experience. (No, I’m not shopping around.) A severe sore throat on Wednesday night turned into a cold which led to asthma and two nights of very little sleep. This morning I asked Nancy to bring me over to Martha Jeff, and she did, and stayed all day, and brought me home.

No point in going into the ins and outs of hospital treatment, save to remark how friendly and helpful the staff. This is merely to lead up to this point, which I made before and must make again.

There is an old saying that God has no hands to work through but ours. Regardless of your theology, surely you can see that the saying is not only true but obvious. It is never more obvious than when your life is in another person’s hands. The everyday functioning of an emergency room amounts to this: All these people – doctors, nurses, orderlies, various technical types – are there every day, waiting to help whoever comes in needing help. To quote again the cinquain I wrote after the previous experience:

          E.R.

         No breath.

         Resource’s end.

         Surrendering control

         To these calm strangers, knowing them

         God’s hands.

 

 

The flutter of their wings….

Don’t know the name of the woman who wrote this, and don’t even know if it’s true, but I do know that the underlying idea is true. God has no hands but ours, the saying has it. The story came to me via a mass-email from a friend — which in itself sort of demonstrates the point.

The flutter of their wings….

This was written by a Metro Denver Hospice Physician:

I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die – I barely managed to coast, cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn’t even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the ‘quickie mart’ building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay.

Continue reading The flutter of their wings….

Pullman’s confused ideology

Because my publishing company put out a book called Discovering The Golden Compass, I first learned of the existence of this very interesting trilogy by English author Philip Pullman. I bought the books and read them straight through. He is a good writer, able to hold you and interest you in characters and plot. But his metaphysical assumptions are — well, pathetic.

The story line, and his intent as an author, have a certain appeal to anyone fighting despotism and cruelty — but his materialist bias and his total lack of experience of anything beyond This World/This Time are embarrassingly obvious.

Summing it up to myself after finishing the third volume, I listed several things that must seem clear to him, but are actually severely confused. I know it’s fiction, but what a writer creates sheds light on what he believes is possible given certain assumptions. Continue reading Pullman’s confused ideology