New Life

This is my friend "Olga" whom I have written about in previous posts. I thank all of you who have prayed for her as she has faced rapidly declining health in recent weeks. This picture was taken last month on the day that her friends moved her belongings out of her apartment and into our guestroom. I had made a big pot of curry and put out dinner for Sam and her son, who had just set up her computer in our downstairs room, when I had a very strong impression that I needed to go see her--IMMEDIATELY. I told Sam that I'd be back later and drove over to her apartment, about 9 miles away. Olga was on her bed, and her friends from the Romanian church were trying to help her get comfortable--rubbing her feet and hands. She told me that her kidneys were no longer working and she felt horrible. Her hands and feet had excruciating cramps, probably from her electrolyte imbalance. Olga was too tired to talk much, and was short of breath. I did manage to get this picture of her with me, and we chatted a few minutes before I prayed for her and her friends, and went back home.

I had such an ominous feeling when I saw her: gaunt in the face but bloated in her belly. "I look 10 months pregnant!" she'd exclaimed, looking down at her fluid filled belly.

That night she went into the hospital and has not come out since. After nearly dying in a Los Angeles hospital, she was stabilized and transferred over to UCLA, in the intensive care unit. She was immediately placed on a respirator and stabilized further. We've been able to go see her three times since she's been there, and each time it's been really hard. I can only imagine how her sons must feel. Her middle son has texted or called me every day to tell me how she is doing and to ask questions about medical things the nurses tell him.

During the time Olga has been at UCLA thus far, she has received eight offers for a liver. Each time, she would be told that there was a liver available, and that the doctors would be examining it to be sure it was "a good one." Based on that, they would get back with her. But in the meantime, her nurses would start her on a regimen of IV medications, pills, and blood product infusions in order to get her body at peak capacity for the 8-10 hour surgery required for a transplant. Seven times she learned that the liver wasn't good: fatty livers, too small, too large. Finally, she got her transplant last night. Her son sent me a text message at 2:30 this morning to tell me that she was in the ICU and doing very well. Today she is extremely stable, on a ventilator and mildly sedated. She is following commands and relaxed. She has the very best care there is for liver transplantation, I am convinced. Her surgeon wrote the textbook that all medical schools in the country use for transplantation education. Her nurses have been nothing short of angels, every one of them: so knowledgeable, personable, and accommodating. Since I am on the list of individuals who is allowed to have information about her condition, I have spoken to most of them over the last few weeks. They have all been wonderful to me, but more importantly, to Olga.

Tomorrow she has another short surgery to "clean her up inside" as the doctor explained it to her son. Apparently, transplantation is a two-stage process during which the liver is attached during the first surgery, and the bile duct and surgical debris is removed during the second surgery. So she has that in the morning.

Meanwhile, we are so very grateful to God for giving her this second chance at life.

Olga now legally resides here, even though she is in the hospital. I don't know if she will be allowed to convalesce here since we have a cat and two dogs. But if she is, we will have church ladies staying with her here around the clock, since I will be working and Sam will be involved in other things. Those Romanian ladies have been absolute saints: massaging her feet, cooking for her, cleaning her house, taking her to the doctor's office and hospital, running her erands and giving her money. I have never seen such wonderful friends before. It will be a real honor and blessing to us to have her--and her friends--with us.

It's a new life for Olga. We are grateful, and hopeful that her new liver will "take" and that she will have more good years ahead of her. That will by far, be a great miracle. Thank you again for your prayers. She still needs them, if you can remember to pray for her still.

Waiting and Watching

This afternoon as I loaded up the dishwasher, "the boys" rushed over from their bed to what I have started calling "the tasting station." Charlie took a couple licks at a knife with butter on it, and Baxter tried to lick the edge of a bowl with soup drippings left in it. (You will be relieved to know that we sanitize our dishes!) They did not want to miss the opportunity to get in a few licks of something good.

Then as I was makinc soffrito (Puerto Rican liquid seasoning for rice), they came right over to sit at my feet. Their eyes followed my every move, and they trotted behind me to the fridge, and back over to the blender on the counter across the kitchen. When I moved to the stove, they both came closer so they wouldn't miss anything. Maybe I would give them a bread crust, or a lick of the cream cheese wrapper. I do this occasionally, much to Sam's dismay...
If they are particularly good and my heart can't take not giving them any tastes of human food, I offer them puppy bisquits.
"Want a bisquit boys?"
Baxter yips in excitement and Charlie leaps up and down as if he has springs in his heels.
"Dancing, dancing!" I sing out, and they jump up on their back legs, dancing furiously in front of me.
I give them half a bisquit each.
"Now...." they look at me expectantly, Baxter trying to sit in front of Charlie so he can be closer to me.
"Now... lie down." They go flat to the floor in unison, and look up at me through their eyebrows. I can hardly bear how darling they are--so in earnest, and so eager to please me.
"Good boys!" and I give them another half bisquit.
I clap my hands together several times to signal that we're done with their tricks, and tell them what good boys they are. They wag their tails and nuzzle against my legs. Even though I know I'll have to wash my hands (again!) before I resume cooking, I rub their heads and cheeks.
"Good boys! What precious boys!" and they wag their tails before sitting down just out of range to see what I'll do next in the kitchen.

What strikes me is how vigilant they are. Watching and waiting. Just like Christians are supposed to do. Don't miss an opportunity for gifts from above. Be available for every chance to move in and take advantage of what is being offered. Watch and wait. The right thing will happen at the right time, and if you're not sitting there waiting eagerly, you'll miss out.

We Christians have been told to be ready for Christ to come back. We are to watch every development and with unflinching dedication, be ready for whatever opportunity there is. If you're anything like me however, you have spiritual ADHD. It's hard to focus on spiritual things for too long and difficult to avoid being sucked into other activities that grab at your attention more than sitting and waiting does. And yet there's Christ's command: "Be ye therefore ready, for the Son of man commeth at a time that ye think not." Like Baxter and Charlie, I hope to be steadfast, near at hand, and waiting for the Lord's blessings and most of all, His coming.

Good Night, Dear Friend

This morning I received a phone call at 5:45. Could I please speak to Betty? She had been taken to the hospital at 3:30 a.m. and it appeared that she had an intestinal obstruction with necrosis (dead bowel). She had refused surgery, and indeed, she was an extremely poor candidate for surgery as she has had numerous mini-strokes and back surgeries. Betty needed pain medication and had been told that this was a fatal condition that would end her life within hours or days. Before she was medicated could I please have one last conversation with her?

Betty, this is Barbara.
Oh, Barbara....Hello Dear
Are you having a hard go of it?
....yes
You've had a rough night already.
....Yes
Betty, I'm told that this doesn't look good for you.
...No, it doesn't.
Are you afraid?
...No
....Do you feel ready to go?
....Yes...
Betty, we will soon be together in heaven and we can talk together forever. Won't that be wonderful?
...Yes, yes.
I'm going to be there, and I'm eager to see you there, where you won't have any of these problems.
Oh yes. Me, too.

Are you having some trouble breathing now?
............yes........
Betty, I love you dearly. We've had so many good times over the years, haven't we?
Yes, wonderful ones.
But it's time to say goodbye and I'll see you soon in heaven.
..........yes.........(wheeze)


Betty passed to her rest at 11:00 this morning. Her young friends were at her bedside holding her and loving her right to the very end. They told me that she had been smiling right up to the last.


She would have been 87 years old in nine days. I have loved Betty for many, many years now. She has been like a second mother to me. There have been too many conversations and activities to share and I hesitate, because it would be hard to capture the essence of what she has meant to me in just a few words. But there are several things that must be mentioned.
Betty called me every single day for four years while I was alone in Minnesota, getting my doctorate. I knew no one there and it was a quite lonely experience but for her phone calls: "Hello Lovie, tell me what have you been doing today?" And we would launch off on an animated conversation, punctuated by lots of laughter. We had a wonderful friendship and I couldn't have gotten through that experience without her warm support.

Betty knew what it was to be middle aged and single. While my life went in a different direction than hers did in terms of me getting married eventually, she was a tremendous comfort and role model as a woman who had a full life. She was independent, full of pluck--"a brick" as her neice called her. She knew that I struggled financially just as she had, and as a result she provided things for me that I could not have had otherwise. For example, she bought me my first laptop computer when I went back to school, and she sent me to France to a Gestalt Therapy training institute one summer. She also was a constant source of encouragement and spiritual strength to me, which I have written about in an earlier post.

But perhaps what I loved most about Betty was that she was spontaneous and young at heart. One Christmas Eve when I was alone, I called her around 9:30 at night and told her that I had a yearning to drive up to the mountains and smell the pines. "I'll be at the front door in 10 minutes," she said without hesitation. And so off we drove, 30 minutes up into the mountains, chatting happily all the way. Once we were at a good elevation on the Rim of the World highway, we pulled off onto a turnout and shut off the car. With the windows open, we inhaled deeply of the crisp, pine laden air for several minutes. We were exhilirated as we drove back down the mountain to home. I was unprepared for an obligation the next day, but it is the memory of sharing this wonderful experience with her that is so much more important.

We howled with laughter so many times. Once she invited me over for lunch after church and as we were waiting for dinner to heat up in the oven, she complained that the oven door didn't shut very tightly. Seeing a latch under the door handle, I shoved it to the right until the oven door was snugly closed. "See?" I had proudly said. She was horrified. I had just started the self-cleaning feature of the oven which locked it, preventing us from taking out the food, whilst the temperature soared up to 500 degrees. And yet, the caserole and Boston Cream Pie survived it all. We laughed about that for days.

Betty was the eternal optimist. Even though she had struggled with many things during her lifetime, she had never given in or given up. Some people thought she was quirky, but I loved her. Since my own mother is quite negative, it was medicinal for me to be with her.
While I loved my mother, Betty was able to do things and provide for me emotionally in ways that I could not get from Mother. The many shopping trips we took, the laughter, the way she listened to me and cheered me on, the warmth and kindness in her generosity--all of these things were incredibly helpful to me.

I know that Betty is sleeping until the resurrection morning, and I am glad. Her life had become very limited, living in a board and care facility for the last few years. Her speech was garbled almost beyond understanding, and she was starting to experience minor confusion at times. But she always loved my phone calls and an 11 x 14 photo of me hung right over her bed. I know I was loved and as I examine my attitudes and feelings about many things in life, I "bump into" her influence. She was really a gift from God and I am so grateful that I have loved her and been loved by her.

Good night, Betty. Thank you for who you were and what you did for me. I'll see you in the morning, my dear, dear friend.

Wood Floors

We have wanted to put laminate flooring throughout the house for a very long time. This vacation provided just the opportunity to do that. So here you see Sam after he's placed the moisture barrier/underlayment down on the cement livingroom floor. This is the phase of work after the carpet and padding comes out (and after the flooring is leveled).

It goes in pretty well, but that right arm of mine got awfully tired, not to mention my knees.

This is what I was able to do in about six hours. I will definitely not give up my day job yet!

It's looking pretty good now. Just have to put in the baseboards, which we tore out so we could install 4-inch molding. Can't wait to get rid of the "moving look" that we've had in the house for weeks.

Hopefully, the job will get done tomorrow and my muscles can go back to normal again.

Update on the Boys

We are loving our puppies! Here is an update so you can see how they have grown and what they look like now. This is Baxter. He is such an emotional guy--whining, begging, and pleading was never so earnest nor unremitting as when he is crying. And he can really pout, just as much as he can charm and weasel his way into my heart.

Not to be outdone, Charlie often sits on my legs with his back feet on my tummy and his head resting on my ankles (yes--he is a very long dog when stretched out). Here you can see him peeking at me around my laptop screen as if to say, "Can you puh-leese pet me?!"

These boys love Mother. When she comes to visit she tries to sneak into the house before they go nuts barking and jumping all over her. She has finally gotten them settled down in this picture and true to form, Baxter looks darling and snuggly (and martyred, somehow), and Charlie is smiling as he often does.

Charlie just loves Mother. After her cataract surgery, she came to our house and collapsed on the couch for several hours. While she was asleep the boys climbed up onto her and slept with her for quite awhile. Mother slept so deeply that she didn't feel their 23 lbs (apiece) climbing onto her.

When Charlie was only a couple months old he developed an ear infection, so the vet prescribed antibiotic drops that were to be administered via syrringe twice a day. The boys love to suck on the syrringe full of water. I think they feel special, which is quite funny.

So yes, I just love my boys.

And so does Sam. Thought you'd like to see for yourself.

Therapists--IV

So how then do family therapists (MFTs) intervene with their family members? Are they always "on" and looking for something to fix? Do they ever relate to their family members as just that: relatives? Do MFTs cross boundaries that they shouldn't? Should they completely avoid being helpful if they are able to help other families with similar issues?

Here is what some MFTs had to say about this:

I was seeing 65 people (clients) a week. Now that's frightening, right there. If a therapist sees more than 30 clients per week, assuming that each session is an hour apiece, that is bordering on emotional and mental burnout. I once saw 40 clients a week while I was still an intern, before I realized the truth of the advice I had been given not to see over 20 clients weekly. But this guy--seeing 65? He'd been at this for over 40 years. I wonder though, since he called one individual, "...a little s***" Sounds like burnout to me, which is a cause of and is caused by, boundary violations.

I do offer advice...when [my husband] runs into a people problem he runs them by me and we talk about them.

... sometimes the unresolved stuff from [my wife’s family of origin] gets in our way and then I will say, “this is what’s happening”. [Quoting his wife] “Well, you know you’re therapizing”, and I’ll say, “You know, you’re right, cause it’s affecting me and I need you to do somthin about it”.

This one always makes me laugh: ...If somebody will ask me about someone who looks like they’re having a break[down] and, you know, they’ll describe to me and I’ll say, “It sounds like they’re having a break you need to call somebody.” Well, actually, if I have a relationship with that person I’ll tell them what I think. Um, if I don’t have a relationship with that person, I don’t know how they…or what it is that they are asking me for, and I’m much more apt to suggest that they try seeing somebody professionally. Before I say much, yeah…cause, I mean, people can be really weird about that and very weird people can ask you about their very weird relatives. …people can want you to diagnose their relatives; that’s one weird. People wanting you to diagnose their relatives, all the while you’re looking at them and diagnosing them and that’s weird.


Most of the therapists talked about their family members in highly discipline specific jargon: My husband has a emotional dysregulation problem. I have to be very cognitive and [not] flood his amygdala.

Like I said, I think [my brother has] got some attachment issues um, and some beliefs, some core beliefs about himself that he really needs to take a look at.

This one is a classic: My seventeen-year-old daughter was ADHD, very strong willed, and so I did the behavioral chips system with her and she came home and was really upset and misunderstanding, thinking about that she was going to drive the [family car], my husband saying that she was not. She ...just totally threw a fit, and hated us and ran upstairs to her bedroom, and she was going to have her boyfriend taker her and run away. So I talked my husband into letting me handle it. He came in with me and sat down next to me, as she sat there and said what horrible parents we were and how we didn’t understand her, we didn’t care… So, I said, “So, what you’re saying is that you think we’re horrible parents, we don’t understand, we don’t care” [Start to laugh again]. She just went on and on, I just kept validating and, not agreeing, but feeding back where she was coming from. He watched her just calm down right in front of me, and ever since then he’s really started using the technique himself…

So perhaps there are times when it is helpful to be a therapist when interacting with some family members. Clearly, there are those who abuse the trust family members put in them, expecting that they will be regular type relatives who relate to them in ways that are typical of family members.

Therapy is an interesting business. Being a therapist is even more interesting. Thought you'd be interested to see what people other than me have to say about it all.

Therapists III

How do family members relate to their therapist sibling, child, mother, or father? The MFTs had some interesting observations about this and identified at least four patterns of behavior that they had experienced:
1. Silencing. One woman stated, It’s okay if [husband] wants to make observations about people, but if I do, I’m therapizing!
The family turns to me in crisis to sort things out, but they also keep secrets [from me] because I’m a truth teller . . . It matters to me to find the truth . . . they would probably say I’m the problem maker because I’m the one that points out things that nobody wants to hear… This therapist had watched her family go through some very difficult times around the event of their mother's suspicious death while in the care of one of her siblings. The therapist asked questions that no one was willing to answer. As a result, she was shut out and only given a guest pass to family membership. While this example is a more extreme family situation, other therapists reported the same kind of experiences. It seems to be a way that family members maintain some type of control over the unknown of the MFTs contributions to the family. This feels very odd, but it is a common dilemma.
2. Some therapists pointed out that their family members did not understand the legal and ethical issues that undergirded their therapeutic practice. Various family and friends expected that the therapist was "on" at all times and would provide therapy services for anyonee--particularly their friends and neighbors. …my husband…said “Come [to the house] and talk [to my MFT wife], if you want to talk about this.” And I said, “You know, I can’t do that because… that puts me one step closer to an unethical position.” It's an honest mistake on the part of our loved ones and a common situation that most of us have experienced.
3. Several of the therapists reported that their family members were interested in learning more about their insights and the theoretical underpinnings of their professional opinions. Once they began to understand these things, the family members began to apply them to relationships in their circle of friends and ask for the MFTs input: [My husband] will spend hours talking with me about this family or, or my family’s similarities or differences and that kind of thing...”
Other family members took an interest in the general psychological areas of study that the MFTs had; began their own study and then felt that they understood more of human nature and clinical issues than the MFT: I had a brother-in-law, my husband’s brother, who [laughs a little to herself] ...um, he’s always floundering about--in telling about the books that he’s read, and the “great insights” that he has had. Many of them are some “pop” psychology, without a lot of footage. As far as he’s concerned... I’ve never heard any remarks out of his mouth that I might know anything... Because popular psychology, Oprah and Dr. Phil shows are the extent of many people's psychological/relational education, it is hard to know whether citing these are a way to engage with MFTs whose work family members often don't understand, or if they feel that what is viewed on TV is all there is to family therapy. Many people seem to believe the latter.
4. Unhappiness about how the MFT engages with the family. One woman related how her fmaily asked her to be part of a family process for their alcoholic relative: Well, the whole family is going out for dad’s intervention meeting or whatever, and it would sure be nice if you could be there so that you could help us along.” I said, “Well, I’ll be there if you want me to, but I’m not helping anybody along. This is his treatment. These are the people that he’s working with; it’s not me.” It didn’t please a lot of them. Most of them have kind of, um, [Long pause]. I’m a little beyond tolerated, but I’m sort of the-I didn’t quite do what they thought I should have and there’s a lot of them that haven’t totally let go of that. Basically, I’m tolerated. No, it’s more than tolerated, but it’s not like… it’s okay for me to be not in the inner circle. The result of that has been that my husband isn’t in the inner circle like he used to be either.
Another MFT described what she thought was just a conversation that turned out to have been perceived as much more than that: We had a discussion one time about [his brother’s wife’s dysfunctional family that impacted brother’s marriage] cause she brought it up, and she has never liked me since and tried to keep my brother from connecting with me, and that was a real painful one.
An MFT whose extended family had a member with serious difficulty with the law made a suggestion to his father about what he would do if the family member in question was his son. He was pained by the response: and he said to me, “Well, doctor um, I-I understand what you’re trying to tell me”...you know, if he had said my whole name or something like that, that would have hurt me in a different way cause I would have felt like I was a twelve year old or a ten year old, but “doctor” was that then smelled of, “Your degree doesn’t matter. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You, you know, don’t have any real business of being a doctor anyway, and here you go riding in on your moral high ground, telling me what to do”, ...I felt really undercut. I felt deskilled, and I felt that he was going right for-right for the heart.

It is probably unsettling at times for family members to be related to someone whom they feel can "see right through me", or who is analyzing the daylights out of them all the time. Indeed, there are MFTs who do these things and who don't know how to turn off the therapeutic/analytical brain. But this is not typical of most of the people with whom I work. Newbies do this as well as those who seem to have no life of their own.

Therapists II

Everyone who goes into the helping professions seems to feel that they would like to somehow give back to the families who have supported them throughout their education. There is an unwritten law that states, "Children with expertise in various skills feel that they owe their best efforts to their family members." Realtors help their families find the best properties, physicians provide medical advice and help in numerous ways when their loved ones are hospitalized, and police officers run background checks on potential brother and sister-in-laws (even if they're not supposed to).
This is an issue of personal ethics: we take care of our own. But how are MFTs to interact with family members if the law and professional ethics dictate that we avoid bringing our professional knowledge to bear in our families? Our ethical standards state that we should not (a) unduly influence others due to our professional viewpoints, (b) have dual relationships with those with whom we have therapeutic relationships (dual relationship refers to being a friend plus a therapist), or (c) telling people what they should do in a definitive way regarding life choices. So how does a family therapist interact with their family when they reflect on these ethical standards, yet feel the pull of their personal ethics that urges them to offer therapeutic help?

Some MFTs lean toward the professional ethical stance and exercise great care in the way they interact with their relatives:
“…from day one I’ve said, “No families, no friends,” and that’s how I’ve put it to [my family]. They’ve gotten to the point where none of them have asked anything of me for years in that way.”

“I think that people who analyze…or therapize, it gives them a sense of superiority, so it’s just “No!””

On the other end of the spectrum, those who are very concerned about the wellbeing of their family members had found ways to address their concerns without becoming their therapists:

“I can speak to woundedness… without doing therapy… not to be their therapist.”

“It’s not that I won’t do anything. I’ll say, based on my judgment, you need to deal with whatever burden you’re carrying…with a different person, and I’ll give you a list of names.”
These MFTs were able to flexibly interact with their family members without ignoring their dilemmas and without becoming their therapists. Yet they utilized their skills and knowledge to at least identify problems or attend to their loved ones by urging them to get help from someone else.

Another interesting dichotomy emerged from my analysis: MFTs either identified themselves first and foremost as a therapist, while others identified themselves as members of a family or community who just happened to be a therapist. They reflected on the surprise of others who seem to think that a therapist's experience is somehow different from everyone else's, and that because of this, their behavior should be of a particular insighftul and well-modulated character:

“My kids had mean parents instead of always understanding and perfectly appropriate parents. …[They’re] not going to be forever damaged somehow because I acted like a human being. “
“It’s okay if [my husband] wants to make observations about people, but if I do, I’m therapizing! I…get angry…and respond to him in a very human way, and he’ll say, “And you’re a therapist?!””
Therapists had a wide variety of responses to family members who held high expectations for their behavior and criticized them when they didn't meet these expectations.

MFTs whose identity as therapist seemed to loom large on the horizon for them and they seemed unable to move away from this identity. Rather, their family conceptualizations and interactions were described in theoretical and clinical terms. They seemed proud that they could somehow practice their art with family members:

:I think my own knowledge gives me a real peace with my own family…that I can look at them and know which ones to leave alone and which ones to work on them, with them.”

“…my brother [said], “We’ve been seeing a therapist and you did more in three days than he’s done in the last year.” that’s why I feel good about what I’m doing…this is a very collaborative process consultation.”

This latter statement was shared whilst the speaker crossed her eyes at me to emphasize key points she was making. I was utterly taken aback. I hope she doesn't do that with her clients!

Amd so my analysis continued on. I'll say more about it in the next post.

Therapists I

How do family therapists negotiate their relationships with their own families?
What do family therapists do when their families ask for professional opinions, or when they see their family members make choices or manifest behaviors that will probably have negative repercussions? How do family therapists figure out how to respond to family requests for professional opinions or therapeutic advice, even though the law in every state stipulates that therapists do not maintain dual relationships (ie., provide therapy to people with whom they have friendships or to whom they are related)?
These are questions that I have had for a long time and that I tried to find answers for through research interviews. In order to get these answers, I interviewed 15 practicing family therapists and analyzed their responses. The results came together in the most interesting ways.
In order to come to an understanding of the way that therapists negotiate their family requests, all of the interviews were recorded and transcribed. Themes that were recurring were coded and subthemes were identified. I'll explain what I found by quoting the research participants. Their comments illustrate the major findings from the study and I will explain these over the next couple posts. A word that came up over and over in the participants' remarks was Therapize so I named my developing research article, Don't Therapize Me! Family Therapists as Family Members. Here is what I found:
Marriage and family therapists (MFTs) reported distinct ways that they responded to family requests for professional input.
1. Some therapists gave overt advice to their family members and friends:

“I find that my family comes to me with a lot of questions…I’ve been able to help with a diagnosis or two. A lot of the interventions that we use with our children are…kind of strategic" (strategic family therapy--a clearly delineated approach).

“There are times when [my wife] really does need some direction from me. I’ll just take over, and now... "I’m not your son or your husband. I’m…in charge here, so let’s do this.”"
“[my sister] called me for some just brotherly advice, which really became professional advice from a brotherly person.”

These MFTs didn't appear to think twice about giving professional opinions regardless of the law or professional ethics. Compare this with the individuals who opted to give covert advice to family and friends:

“I mean, there are some little things I’ll do but …people won’t know that I’m “doin’ them” therapeutically.” (This gave me the creeps!)

“I’m not nearly as obvious that I’m therapizing” with reflective listening. I’m a little more covert, when I’m parenting or rephrasing…When I’m therapizing I’m probably not as verbal, …and in regular conversation I have a tendency—I can interrupt sometimes.”

“We might give a book that we found so helpful.”

So obviously, therapists in this group decided that they should give some help to family members but didn't feel right doing it outright. Perhaps they were "just being helpful" vs. "therapizing." That certainly seemed to be what they thought they were doing.

Then we have individuals who flatly refused to provide any insight, advice, or discussion about issues that might provide useful to family members or friends:


“I could save my kids some grief and heartache probably by directing them in a different way, but I don’t do that.“

“ …I am a firm believer from doing years of therapy that … it’s more damaging to try to help them when they don’t want to be helped. So you just have to figure out how to live with the pain, which is a lot of what life is: figuring out how to live with the pain.” This last comment was particularly poignant and the man's gaze lingered on me for a long time. "You know what I mean, don't you?" he asked.

The fourth group of therapists were your everyday people whose relational style with their family members was without therapeutic overlay. Their focus was on just playing the role of a brother, sister, mother, or father:

“I would say, as your brother who loves you and is concerned about you, do you know what you’re doing?”

“So my children…sometimes ask me what I think about things…I have to keep it simple and only talk about what they ask. If I give my reasoning process or what I think is the background on the issue, it’s “Ma, you’re therapizing!”” This latter form of relating to family strikes me as the more healthy and the least disruptive for everyone involved, regardless of the way the therapists think or the insight they have.

Are therapists able to turn off their brain and just be average people? I'll talk more about this in the next post.

God's Annointing

Yesterday evening we held an annointing service for Olga. I was taken aback when I saw her waiting outside the church office. Her belly is enormous--full of fluid that has collected because her liver is no longer able to function and her blood protein is therefore seriously depleted. She is beginning to look a bit jaundiced and she was breathing hard. I believe that her heart has become fibrous as well as her liver, since she has all the symptoms of heart failure. Her legs are enormous: fluid backed up that her heart can't pump through her body. But she has faith that she will survive.
In speaking with her and hearing how gravely ill she has been, I asked her if she had considered being annointed. The book of James (in the Bible) indicates that anyone who is sick should call together the elders of the church and be annointed with oil in the name of the Lord. "And the prayer of faith shall raise up the sick and they shall be healed." And their sins will be forgiven them. Olga had not considered this before, but four hours before I suggested it, her choir chaplain had spoken to her at length about it.
For days I have been reduced to tears when I think of Olga, struggling along, so sick, wishing she can live to see her grandchild grow. Her life has been one long continuous series of brick walls that she has slowly ambled over or around, at great cost to herself. But she has never become hopeless, skeptical, or ill-natured. Olga's persona has been one of optimism, hope, cheerfulness, and kindness. I have been deeply impacted by her. So just the thought of her dying has been very hard to consider. And yet just to look at her one can see that her health is almost completely gone.
I have prayed for her recovery and for her peace of heart for many weeks now. As she suffers on, trying to negotiate a healthcare network that has a reputation for running patients around in circles and in general, being inefficient and more interested in cost than patients, I have been impressed at how she has pressed for what she needs. Olga has spent hours on the internet researching her condition, her medications, and the latest studies on treatment. Her doctors just look at her when she asks for changes in dosages or for various tests. "Everything about them says to me, "You're going to die, so why do we need to do this?"" she tells me. So Olga has been praying about how she should take care of herself. She tells me that she often wakes up in the morning thinking about a particular herb or vegetable that she should eat more of. In researching these items, she finds that they have medicinal qualities, and inevitably, she is greatly helped by eating them. For example, she was waking up covered in blood from nosebleeds--a common endstage symptom of liver disease. Her platelets had dropped to the point where she could bleed to death. But she felt impressed to start taking honey and something she calls Propoli--bee pollen. Within a week all her bleeding stopped and her platelets had improved dramatically on her weekly blood draw. Additionally, after taking a particular herb tea, she could breathe easier and she was able to eat three meals in a day--something she hadn't been able to do before due to belly pain and a sense of fullness.

We met at the church yesterday at 4:00. There were 10 of us all together, all of whom shared with her how much she means to us, as a way to affirm and encourage her. Then we discussed what it means to be annointed with oil: it is a sign that we believe God can heal her, and that the Holy Spirit is present to heal physically, spiritually, emotionally, or in all these ways. God invites us to do this in James 5, so we can come boldly to God in faith, asking that He will heal Olga in whatever way He deems best. By looking at her it is clear that she will die within a short time without God's healing. And it might be that He will allow her to die rather than to live. But we have presented her to God by faith and have asked fervently that she will be healed--if this is God's will.

It seemed to be a very affirming and hopeful time for Olga. She tells me that she feels a flood of peace at least twice a day. "I feel that everything is going to be okay, and that i am going to be okay," she says. She told me that she once had a very vivid dream soon after she was diagnosed with Hepatitis C. In this dream she was given the news that she had this dreaded disease. She looked straight into the face of the person who gave the news and said she was going to fight this and that she felt that she could. Olga said that she felt someone else was standing by when she said this and that she couldn't be sure but that it was a heavenly person: an angel or God. When she said she was going to fight the illness she said she felt the immediate and very strong sense of approval from this person in her dream. This seemed to her to mean that she would be able to overcome the disease. Her faith has not flagged since then.

I know God can heal people miraculously, and it is my fervent hope that He will do this for Olga. Over the years I have worked in ICU as a nurse, I have also seen many people with strong faith that they will survive, die. From a human standpoint, her case is hopeless. But we do not know what God's will is for her life. He didn't choose to heal her outright yesterday. Perhaps her condition will improve slowly until she is back to normal health. There is some indication that God does this at times. For this, I pray.

So i am awake at 3:30 this morning, thinking what I might do were I the one dying. To whom would I send letters and what would I say? (I woke up dreaming this). I am also glad that Jesus said that if we have faith as big as a grain of mustard seed, He will cause great things to occur. I know that I have at least that much faith--faith enough to allow her to die or to survive. The annointing service was extremely difficult for me to participate in. I cried through the entire hour and a half experience. Olga's two sons were there, and although both have seemed to have lost an appreciation for God, both prayed and joined in with the service. I know Olga would happily die if her death could be the means of bringing her sons closer to God. I am continuing to pray for Olga day and night. If she is to die, we will bring her to live with us for her last days and give her a dignified death. if she is to live, my life will be incredibly impacted by this manifestation of God's power and grace. It is hard sometimes to allow God to have the last word when we want something so badly. But I am grateful that He invites us still, to ask Him for what we need and for what will be the best witness for Him. Please pray for Olga.