JAILHOUSE REGRETS

I asked, the young man in white “T” shirt, black short pants, and a pair of woolen socks pulled up to his knees. "James why are you here?" .  Jim replied, "Well, chaplain, I needed money for drugs. I robbed a house. I was arrested. I had a gun. My sentence is 12 to 15 years. My family has abandoned me. I am alone. My life is a mess. You know what I mean?” . I said, " James I can only imagine the disappointment in yourself and your feeling of failure. What I do know is that you are at the beginning of a long journey of doubt, struggle, and despair.” . Jim, his eyes filled with tears as he asked, ”Deacon robert, I am lost ... will you help me?" . A recent note from James reflects a deep desire to reform his life: ' ...No matter how much I have changed these past 5 years, I still pay the price for the things that I have done. I have a lot more work to do and it may take the rest of my life to make amends and ask forgiveness of those I love and those who loved me back…’ . James’, personal failure turned into discouragement, became anger and was followed by despair, ending in disappointment, remorse, and regret. . Only The Good Things, deacon robert r. lackney, 4th Day Journal/ April 2012 . PS: The saints teach if we live long enough we will have regrets. And, the regrets that nag at you the most are: … The ones you knew you had a choice. … The ones where you knew you could have stopped yourself. … The ones when you look into the mirror and everything that is good inside of you said, “Don’t do this!” James taught me that there is: … No greater sorrow than regret. … No greater power than love. And, … No greater gift than forgiveness.

CHRISTMASTIME

Try to remember the innocence and wonder of being a child at Christmas.

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Christmas, that time when it was easy to believe in that place mother called, Heaven.
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God lived in Paradise, that place of wonder, the time of smiles, hugs, & kisses.

God created an Amber Light to fill the world with the Gifts of Heavenly Love.
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This image of Heaven, God, and Paradise has “stuck“ to my memory for over 70 years.  Still, at my age, I look into Heaven’s Light and see God clothed in white linens sitting on a royal blue and gold throne.

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Next to God is my guardian angel, “Trebor”, who continues to bring God’s special gifts of love that reappear year by year on Christmas Day.
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Do we not still hear the soft hum, whispering secrets, and the sounds of someone watching over me, leading me, protecting me, and caring about everything I think, say, and do?
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My mother, Mildred, taught me to look for the Christ Child coming in the light of the night sky on Christmas Eve.

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“Wait! “ She would say:  “Catch a glimpse of the angels spreading their luminous, silvery, and transparent wings as they lift the Christ Child into the golden light as you sleep.“

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 Jesus lifted by the angels, would fly all over the earth.

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The Divine Child would visit the hearts of all those who loved God. And, when the Christ Child completed his “night flight “the angels stopped at a little manager in the desert beneath the glitter of a bright star. Jesus was then placed into the arms of his mother, Mary, as the angels sang the songs and melodies of Heaven.
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 As my life unfolded and I grew older, I experienced the sting of disappointment, disillusionment, and heartache. Wonder faded. The face of the Christ Child - so clear in the child’s eye - grows dimmer as we leave innocence behind: that simple trust in heaven, God, angels, and a mother who tells the stories of love.

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The stories of Christmas meant to teach us to embrace the simple and the ordinary things of life with love.

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“Children do not get lost in the past or worry about the future: they are simply present with wonder, beauty, and delight. “

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So to be me.

Deacon robert r. lackney, My 4^th Day Journal: Christmastime 2011.

THE HAND OF GOD

The Right of God: robert r. lackney

Leaning against the wall, beneath the mounted TV set, becoming a witness to the Critical Care Team determined to restore Fred’s vital signs. I said a silent prayer.

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The situation was hopeless.

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Nevertheless, the activity went on and on and on: electric shocks, injections, manual compression of the chest, the monitor’s sounds penetrating the corridors of the critical care unit, and the “swish-swoosh” of compressed air entering the face mask- the room filling with staff, nurses, and doctors- and the steady cadence of the emergency care doctor whispering orders to Pam, “one more time!” until the words came, “Stop!”

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All had been done that could have been done to restore Fred’s life, a 75 year old man who had come into the hospital that morning feeling a “weakness”.
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And, now his heart had stopped and Fred was dead.

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Earlier, I was with Fred during his x-rays, walked at the side of his gurney, and held his hand.  Returning to room 506, he was placed in his bed.
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Pam, his nurse, looked at me and said in a low voice, 

“ Chaplain, he needs you more than he needs us.”

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 Leaning over the bed and placing my hand on Fred’s forehead I said,

“ Fred, everything is fine, your prayers are being said for you,
Do not be afraid- Christ is here with you.”
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 As my right hand lifted, the life data monitor started to “whine” and Fred became the sole interest of the 25 people of the emergency team. The next 30 minutes the scene was intense energy. I said a silent prayer.

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Love was in each face of the nurses and doctors. Love in full bloom.

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Scott, his friend, had brought Fred to the hospital emergency room, sensing that his “weakness” was serious and did not want him to be alone.

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Some say that the last moments of life are compressed into a single second.

Others teach that when we call out to Christ from our deathbed,
Christ will come: bringing all the angels, saints, and those we have loved in this life.
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 Many wonder what is the most important thing to say to a person who is about to die?  Fred taught me that all that is needed is to be there.

To hold a hand. To sing a silent prayer. To wait for Christ.
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Christ will come. Christ brings all those who loved us in this life to stand beside our deathbed.

Only the Good Things
Deacon robert r. lackney, Notes of a Hospital Chaplain, January 2012

ORANGE TREES

When I was 5 years old, my Father told me not to eat or swallow orange seeds.
Dad taught seeds will grow and take root inside my ‘tummy’ and I might grow up and become a tree.
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 Every time I peel an orange or take a bite. I always eat the seeds.

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 And ask, “Are my father’s predictions to come true?”

“Will branches filled with green leaves, sprout from my ears?”
“Will 8, 10, or 12, splendid, large, juicy oranges pop out of my eyes, nose, and mouth?”
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 I admit it! I have always had the secret desire to become a tree.

Sadly, in my mid 70’s, my chances are slim.
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 When we reflect on the brevity of our lives some believe that there are many talents that lie dormant within us since childhood.

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Our teachers know that much of what God has created remains hidden and unseen within a silent impulse, an inner urge, or a vague feeling.
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 Yes! Something is special in the eyes of that baby. Something is stirring in that child sitting beside you in the pew. Something is waiting to happen.

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The saints remind us that it would be a life of sin if we did not respond to these spiritual desires lurking deep within the soul.
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So much of who we are remains undiscovered. That is, unless someone takes interest in us, and brings our gifts into the light so that our talents can be developed.  

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Scriptures teach that we have been created to respond to the inner life so that we may fulfill the hope, light and the unique vision God has placed in each of us.

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God knows that a child’s hope lays in the development of their minds, heart and spirit.

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 Fathers, mothers, grandfathers, and grandmothers are given the watchful-eye, the gentile nudge, and the encouraging word that forms the inner vision asleep in a child.

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 Some ask, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Few ask, “Maybe. Just maybe there is 
…  A Great Orange Tree hidden inside my child’s imagination?”
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Peace and Only The Goodthings
deacon robert r. lackney, My 4^th Day Journal: February 2012/ Ephesians 1:17-19

MOTHER'S LOVE

This family or’ time has felt the cold of winter’s sting.

To this sacred garden we come with opened hearts,

Melted by a mother’s love, becoming the flowers of the spring.

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Do not our mothers bring to us the seed of life?

Embraced by hope, love dos’ know.

Speak to mother’s love, in our daily words and see,

The flowers planted within our hearts will grow.

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These many years we have hoped and prayed on this Kentucky land

All of us who have died in love and pain with these flowers we now sing.

With our children we stand and know

Easter Life follows the promise that is the spring.

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Happy times come to those who dare.

Come! Heed the words of Wonder and Beauty

Speak with courage, speak with love, and speak with gentle care.

Let our hearts opened to all who hear.

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With heads bowed guided by the silent love

We surely become these dazzling flowers so bright.

Creating, transforming a mother’s love,

Into the reds, yellows, blues, greens, and gold from her Light.

Peace and Only Goodthings

deacon robert r. lackney

My 4th Day Journal May 2012

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