Luci and Mary

Recently I attended an event called Women of Faith.  Yes, I know I am not a woman but I have faith, so I partly qualify.  I came away amazed at the examples of excellent communication I had seen.

As a professional speaking consultant and trainer I evaluate communicators.  I’m always looking for ways speakers can improve. In fact, I have never stopped trying to find ways to improve my own speaking. But, something happened. I got so caught up in the messages that I forgot to critique!  Instead my life was changed.  THAT is what good communication does……. it changes lives.

As I flew home that I asked myself , “What qualities did the Women of Faith presentation team have that made them such powerful communicators.

• They connected with the audience.  

They shared their stories of walking the difficult paths of life.  No easy, trite answers, just personal accounts of the journey.   They spoke directly to the needs of women,  but in doing so spoke to the needs of humankind.  This quality of connection is closely linked to another quality they exhibited.

• They were vulnerable.  

They laid it all of the table, the good the bad and the ugly.  They freely confessed that the in the middle of overwhelming storms, it is the grace and love of God that provides hope.  Some speakers were scared.  One lost her place.  Words were mispronounced.  Unexpected emotions surfaced.  Yet these gifted communicators held the audience, including me, in the palm of their hand.   They laughed at themselves and in the process exposed the lie that perfection is a requirement for great communication or for living life.  I don’t think  this kind of vulnerability can be taught.  It is a gift that pours out when men or women finally feel safe enough in Christ to tell the truth.  I am convinced that only the strong are capable of being vulnerable.  I’ll save that discussion for another blog.

• They had fun

If your image of Women of Faith is a bunch of ” church ladies” soothing each other with, “Well isn’t that special,”  your dead wrong.  I laughed as hard at this conference as I have anywhere else.  The organizers and presenters are BOLD individuals who don’t mince words, and just plain have fun.

If you are a woman, find a  conference near your home and sign up! 

If you are a man, pony up the money and give your wife this amazing experience as a gift.

If you have benefited from attending Women of Faith,  I would love to hear your comments.

If you would like to develop your speaking skills, check out our next Dynamic Communicators Workshop in Beaver Creek Colorado. I would love to see you there!

First, thank you to all of you who responded to my post

To date there were over 467 comments on the post.  I had no idea that this issue would touch such a cord in the hearts of so many people.  I also had no idea how many people are living with the heartbreak of family and friends facing Alzheimer’s disease.

Because I am unable to respond individually to the hundreds of comments I received, I will address them here.  This will be my last post concerning Pat Robertson’s comments.

1. To those of you who have watched a loved one suffer from Alzheimer’s disease or dementia and to some of you who courageously shared that you have been diagnosed with one of these diseases:  Your honesty and courage inspires us all.  My prayers are with you.  Thank you for blessing us by sharing your story and helping us realize we are not alone.

2. To those who suggested that I had misunderstood Mr Robertson’s statement: I must respectfully disagree.  I read and re-read the entire transcript as it was sent by CBN in response to a letter written by Mark Robinson.  The letter, the transcript and CBN’s response can be found here….. OntarioPC    My readers can judge for themselves what Mr Robertson actually said.

3.  To those who suggested that my post was an attack on Pat Robertson:  I promise that was not my intention.  Considering what my dad had gone through, what the scriptures say about divorce and the solemn nature of  “till death do we part,” I was compelled to respond to Mr Robertson’s statement.  A public statement such as this invites a public response. I responded with our family’s story.

4.  To those who suggested that I had been influenced by the media:  I am sure the news media covered this, but I never saw it.  My response was based on the transcript of the show and CBN’s response to Mark Robinson’s letter.   I never intended to jump on any bandwagon.  I didn’t even know there was a bandwagon.

5.  To those who expressed sorrow and/or anger in response to Pat Robertson’s statement:  For the most part these were not enemies of Pat Robertson or CBN.  In fact, many of the responders were people who had been blessed over the years by CBN’s ministry.  I certainly understand your frustration and would ask that you pray that the valid aspects of CBN ministry will continue to touch lives.

6. To those who questioned Pat Robertson’s Salvation or wished him ill will:  I would ask that you reconsider that position for the same two reasons that caused you disagreed with his statement in the first place.

• Pat’s is a believer in Christ and his place in the Kingdom was assured on the Cross and sealed by the Holy spirit.  He is loved by the Father. He will be in heaven. He is my brother.  I am free to disagree with him but not to condemn him. If Mr Robertson has lost his salvation because of his errors of judgement or theology, then my sins and errors certainly condemn me as well.  Thank God, such is not the case!
• Pat Robertson deserves the same compassion we insist that he give those we sought to defend.  

Thank you for all your comments and I am grateful for the support shown toward those who cannot speak for themselves. With a only couple of exceptions the comments were thoughtful and without vitriol.  Yesterday I received a very gracious comment from a friend of Mr Robertson that I would like to share with you. In the face of the what I believe is justified critique of Mr Robertson’s statement, only one thing balances the scales and gives us all hope……. that thing is GRACE!

Pat Robertson’s friend Malcolm gave me permission to reprint his comment.  May the spirit of grace evidenced here be present even in the midst our strongest disagreements.

    When Pat Robertson stands before the Lord, God will say, “Pat, you said a lot of things right, and you said a few things wrong; you sometimes let the pondering of your mind escape through your lips before you had it worked out with me in prayer. This embarrassed those closest to you, and it angered a great many of your enemies.
But also let me say this to you: Thank you for giving your life to me as a young man. Thank you for heeding my call to walk away from what could have been a lucrative career in Law to enter the ministry and start a tiny little television studio in Tidewater Virginia when everybody thought you were crazy. Thank you for pioneering a Christian TV channel that was the first of its kind, and that I was able to bless and project it around the world in many different nations. And thank you, Pat, that because of your visionary spirit and heart of obedience, the 700 Club has been a tool in my hands to bring hundreds of thousands of people into My kingdom. Pat, I also want to thank you that you allowed me to birth Operation Blessing through you and your wonderful staff of sincere and committed people. Together with our supporters, we have given spiritual and natural aid to tens of thousands of devastated people worldwide.
So Pat, other than those few times you really stuck your foot in your mouth, I am happy to say you did most things well. You have been a good and faithful servant who stands or falls before Me alone, and before no other. Enter now, my son, into the joy of the Lord.”

I can only add… “Say those things for me too, Lord.  For me too!”

Today is Alzheimer’s day.  Please pray for a cure and for comfort to all who face this horrible disease.

I had been traveling relentlessly

About 100 in the room of 400 were affected with some form of mental or physical disability.  There was constant movement in the room as many were assisted with frequent trips to the restroom. Involuntary moans and vocal sounds echoed throughout the audience.  I grumbled inwardly thinking how all this commotion would disrupt my “important talk.”  I also noticed the lighting was poor and wondered how that would affect my “performance.”

As I ruminated on these things, the presenters called seven year old Andrew Roach to the platform.

And what was this beautiful little boy’s achievement? 

Over the past year, he’d learned to sit in his seat long enough to complete a task and he had learned to count to fifty.  As Andrew clutched his award, the look of pride on face of his parents was luminous.

Maybe I didn’t need as much light as I thought I would.

Terry Molrand received the next award for Resident of the year.  This young man’s  body was bent from Cerebral Palsy.  Although he was seated less than fifteen feet from the platform it took him nearly a minute to get there. He used a walking stick and it seemed that each step required excruciating effort.  Yet I seemed to be the only one in the room who noticed.  Terry turned to face the audience with a beaming smile that lit up the room.

I stopped thinking about lighting all together.

Terry’s smile not only lit the room it cut through the selfish and inconsiderate rumbling in my soul. After receiving his award and reveling in a barrage of flash pictures, Terry whispered something to the presenter who then announced that Terry wanted to say a few words. With a face that could barely contain his joy, Terry spoke in a strong confident voice.

“I want to thank you for this award,” he said, “And I want to thank God for another day.”

The audience rose in a thunderous ovation.  I was on my feet, applauding wildly, tears streaming down my face.

Mr Rosenburg received the next award. He had run a clothing shop in Vincennes, Indiana for forty six years and was receiving a plaque for donating a building to KCARC. Marshall his disabled adult son accompanied him to the platform.  His voice trembling with emotion, Mr Rosenburg said that shortly after becoming a resident at KCARC his son had blessed him with two simple but profound words.  “I am happy.”

I began to wonder who was disabled.

Just before it was my turn to speak, I leaned over to my host and whispered, “No message I could deliver would be more inspirational than what I have just heard.”  I had allowed a delayed flight to ruin my day while a this group celebrated a little boy’s ability to sit quietly and complete a task.  I have lamented over a missed golf game, while Terry thanks God for another day. I was the one disabled by a lousy attitude. 

The next morning, as I awoke, I acted on the lesson I’d learned from the three MEN who had received awards the night before.  The first words from my mouth were these……..

“Thank you God for another day.  I am happy!”

Tell me your story.  I look forward to your comments.

This post adapted from, A story by Ken Davis in his book “Lighten Up”  Zondervan

Me and my Dad

This may be one of the most personal blogs I have ever written.

I was stunned by Pat Robertson’s recent proclamation that  a man is free to divorce his wife if she has Alzheimer’s disease, on the pretense that “She is not there.”  I am compelled to respond because if I remain silent, I do a disservice to my family and my father.

My dad admires my watch.

You see, my dad went to heaven after suffering from Alzheimer’s for over five years.  In the end he recognized no one, and could carry on no meaningful conversation.  His every need had to be taken care of by others.   He spent much time staring blankly into space.

One of the last times I visited dad, he simply held my hand and ran his rough, work hardened fingers over the face of my watch.  “That’s a nice watch,” he said, over and over again.  This was the man who survived the Bataan Death March and spent three years as a prisoner of war defending my freedom. This was the man that taught me how to hunt and ride a horse.  This was the man loved to take us fishing.  The fingers that gently traced the outline of my watch were the  same fingers that showed me how to put a worm on a hook.

What would Pat Robertson have done with my dad?  Would he have denounced him as a father?  Would he have concluded that the Biblical admonition to “Honor your father and mother” only applied to those in excellent mental health. I can only assume from Robertson’s latest proclamation that because my dad’s spirit had been dimmed by this horrible disease I was free to disclaim him as my father, walk away and leave him to fend for himself.  After all he “wasn’t there anymore.”

This blog is written with deep empathy for those who have cared for a  loved one with Alzheimer’s.  I understand the toll this disease takes on caregivers.  I saw my mom suffer profoundly as she watched my dad become a shell of the man he had once been.  I watched her suffer trying to care for his daily needs and grieve when other caregivers had to be found.  Eventually loving professionals were enlisted to take care of dad, but to the end, he was mom’s husband and our father.

I think the following story by an unknown author captures a more compassionate and Biblical scenario than that suggested by Robertson.

_____________________________________

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, when an elderly gentleman, in his 80′s, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him.

I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed suppclies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, we began to engage in conversation. I asked him if he had a doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer Disease.

As we talked, and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now.

I was surprised, and asked him. “And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?”

He smiled as he patted my hand and said. “She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.”    Author Unknown

I am so thankful that no matter what our condition, God still knows who we are.  No matter how decrepit or deranged he remembers the price that was paid for our redemption.  Because of who He is he will never leave us or forsake us.

Dear friends,  If at some future date you find me staring into the distance because this disease has wracked my mind and body.  I ask you not to cast me off. 

Please visit me. 

Hold my hand.

Let me touch your watch and sense from some deep place in my soul that you love me.

I ask you to believe that until I go to heaven and look into the face of Christ………….

I am here!!

Dads grip and his faint smile tells it all. He knows he is loved.

The most outward demonstration of this fear was the silence in the skies.  All flights in the United States had been suspended.  Although I appreciated the attempts of our government to keep us safe, I was dismayed at the irrational fear of flying, or shopping, or being in a public place.  The enemy’s greatest victory that day was the resulting plague of fear that spread across the country in response to their horrible actions.

Fear is the ultimate weapon of terrorism.

If we refuse to live in fear, terrorism fails.    Fear paralyzes more severely that any spinal cord injury you can imagine.  Fear, more than any other obstacle, keeps people from living fully alive.  For me, not flying on 9/12 because a terrorist might be on the plane was the equivilant of not going outside because lightning might hit me.  Out of defiance, I wanted to get on a plane and fly to anywhere for no reason at all. Then get on another one and fly to another destination.  Don’t get me wrong.  In the past I have lived in fear…… and I still occasionally allow it’s deadly shadow to affect my life, but as a part of my new commitment to live fully alive, I am determined not to allow fear to rule my life.

We don’t need a catastrophe like 9/11 to have us cowering in fear.   We have our own terrorists that plague our lives.  

Political upheaval in the world?

Personal failure?

Health issues?

Family conflict?

Crime?

Emotional distress?

Personal loss?

Job insecurity?

Name your own terrorist _______________________?

Paul said, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”  (2Timothy 1:7)  He also said, In Romans  8:38- 39 “For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Of course we are not supposed to take stupid risks, but Paul is right. NO government, NO person, NO failure, NO difficulty….. NOTHING in all the universe …..can separate us from the most important thing of all, the Love of Christ.     We have nothing to fear.

What can we learn from the Significance of 9/12?

• We can learn that fear KILLS the ability to live fully alive.
• We can refuse to be “terror-fied” (sic)
• We can choose to “LIVE!”

I am instructing my team to make a t shirt that proclaims.  Fear Free Zone.  I plan to wear it……  and live it.

What fears have threatened to paralyze you?

What has been helpful in conquering those fears?

I look forward to your comments.