Chaplain's Corner

If you have ever been to Bethesda Place you know that a feature of the landscaping outside the building is the large river rocks along the building and just outside the front door by the turn about. Over the years, from season to season, a variety of loose, blown about things settle down between these rocks. This spring, Ed the husband of one of our residents, said, “Larry, come outside with me, I need to show you something, I think there is an article out here waiting to be written.” So out we went, and there, in the midst of this pile of river rock was a tiny, 6 inch tall spruce tree. There it stood small but stalwart amid these rocks.

Now, we have all sent this before, we have been into the Canadian Shield and seen trees growing out of solid rock. We have maybe even stopped for a few minutes to wonder, “How did that happen?” I especially ponder such things as I have a hard time getting anything to grow even when I dote over it. I have this tropical plant in my office that lives on the verge of demise either drowned in too much water or withering because I had gotten busy and neglected it for too many weeks. Poor thing should probably be given a respectful funeral in someone’s compost heap – but as long as it remains “alive” I will continue to kill it with my ineptness.

Anyway, back to the little spruce growing amid the river rock. There is an article in this picture. But what is it? Maybe it is the lesson that in the most unlikely places things can grow and even thrive. I think of some of the folks I have cared for over the years. Many of them have been like this little spruce tree growing up out of the river rocks.

I remember Mrs. E. I met her 14 years ago when I was working at Riverview Health Centre. She had been paneled and finally placed on the units I cared for. She was a proper woman, insulted by her need to be placed in a personal care home and unaccustomed to being place in such close proximity to some many other “old folks”. As I got to know her there were a couple of things that emerged as “life giving to her”. Her favorite flower was the wild rose and her favorite activity was a “good cup of tea” and stimulating conversation bout current events. Neither were readily available in this new setting. Here she was, planted in the river rocks of an environment that she saw as harsh and unwelcoming. As I pondered how to care for her, I dug up a proper tea pot and china cups and found one of those little miniature roses that they sell in stores, a pink one. It wasn’t a wild rose, but I brought her the rose and she lit up, and I offered to meet with her every Wednesday afternoon at 2:30 for a proper cup of tea at which time we would talk about current events. That is all it took, for this little woman to begin to thrive among the river rocks of this new environment. For several months we kept these weekly appointments, she had much better success with her rose than I do with my tropical plant and it grew, as did her spirit, even in the hostile environment of this unwanted move to personal care.

Not long after I started working her at Bethesda a Mrs. P. came into the hospital, her body ravaged by MS. She could no longer remain in the home where she had lived, cared for by her mother and brother. Her family lived down in the hinterlands east of Piney and couldn’t be hear except once a week. So Mrs. P. spent many long hours pretty much alone. Her spirit was fading, hospitalization, although necessary for her body, was slowing killing her spirit. This is not an unusual reality when a person must stay in a health care facility for a long time. She wasn’t particularly a religious gal, but she welcomed my visits. We talked about whatever she wanted, I would drop questions and sooner or later I would hit upon a subject that would bring light to her eyes. One day I asked her, “What is your favorite thing in all the world?” She thought for a moment then said, “Butterflies”. “Why?” I asked. “Because they are free, they can flit and float from flower to flower with nothing to hold them down.” After a thoughtful pause Mrs. P. said, “I hope that one day I will be free again.” Those conversations allowed her spirit to “green up” and begin to grow again, a bit like that little spruce tree growing up out of the river rocks. Several months later her spirit was released from her disabled body, she was finally free.

Mrs. L. was a feisty woman, young by personal care home standards. She was bound and determined that she would not like this place. She had made up her mind. For Mrs. L this was nothing but a bed of river rock. But over time, despite her sour, negative disposition, she let me into her life. She began to share her gifts, the life giving things that made her life satisfying. Now many of them were no longer possible, but as she remembered them and began sharing them, hints of joy began to show. I took an interest, I asked her to share more, she open up and a friendship developed. Soon she was coming out of her room, visiting with other residents, getting involved in programs. Something was growing among the river rocks.

Now, this little spruce tree growing by the font drive at Bethesda Place has a long way to go. A six inch spruce has a lot of growing to do. But if the outdoor maintenance man doesn’t decide that it is out of place and pull it up, that tree will keep growing, a couple of inches a year, it will add ring after ring of diameter, it will slowly push back those river rocks and in allowed to continue, 30 years from now it will stand tall and strong and make those river rocks look small and insignificant.

When we first confront life’s challenges, it seems as if we are a small seed, lying deep in the cracks between a couple of huge rocks. Things look impossible; we can’t even imagine growing in such an environment let alone thriving. But personal growth is an awful like the growth of a tree. In the beginning it is almost impossible to see but slowly, ever so slowly things begin to happen, changes take place, growth is manifest. But in order to see it, we have to be very patient; we almost have to become indifferent to it, just letting it happen and without our help, without our fussing the miracle of growth takes place.

Maybe you are frustrated with your self or maybe your frustration is with another. Maybe seeds have been planted, but it doesn’t appear as if anything is happening. That little spruce tree among the river rocks has been growing away for a couple of years, even though I look out my office window and can see right where it stands, even though I have walked out by the place where it is growing hundreds of times in the last couple of years, I never saw it until just a couple of months ago.

I might have concluded – nothing can grow there m- but the conclusion would have been wrong. That little spruce tree proved it. I wonder if there are things in your life, situations, people, your own soul and you have reached the conclusion – nothing can happen here. Maybe you’ve given up on someone or maybe you have given up on your self. DON’T! God is in the business of making things grow where it looks impossible for anything to grow. We can get seriously impatient with God; we want things to happen now. We can hardly tolerate the time it takes for the seed to set down roots and for the slow growth to finally manifest itself.

This little spruce tree growing up from the river rocks – it is a beautiful, hope-giving illustration of how God so often works. Even in the river rock of your heart or the river rock of another’s heart, God can plant seeds that if we are patient will grow. Don’t give up on others, don’t give up on your self – remember the little spruce tree growing up through the river rock and be encouraged.