Saturday, June 12, 2021                     (today’s lectionary)
Memorial of the Immaculate Heart of Mary
Flying Wolf and Spotted Feather
Their baby’s name is Aubra. Margaret met her dad Chris on the way out to the atrium this morning. “I almost lost her,” he said. He might have meant either the baby or her mom. “They gave Aaron (mom) three quarts of blood during Aubra’s birth.” The baby is a beautiful 2 lbs, 12 oz. Strong. Holding her head up.
Aubra’s dad’s birthname is Flying Wolf. He was born on a Lakota Sioux reservation, and he’s been married 23 years to Spotted Feather. Their names in the Sioux language flew off her tongue, and I recorded them, but I can neither pronounce nor spell those beautiful sounds.
From now on, we regard no one according to the flesh.
But the thing is, he might lose one of them anyway. Chris’ mom took custody years ago of his two other kids, and she’s trying to do it again. When I left yesterday afternoon I saw a uniformed officer and someone else (probably from Child Protective Services) sitting with Chris. Aaron was headed out the door to join them. What do you think? She was angry. And afraid. And feeling completely out of control, not for the first time in these last few days. She felt more personally protective than the “Protective” Services ever will.
Whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come. And all this is from God, who does not count our trespasses against us.
In the morning Margaret brought them a small stuffed bear for Aubra. They thought they might name it Ka-Dabra, just to get a little rhythm going with their daughter’s name. Chris took some time to tell Margaret more of their story.
Really, what do you think? First we decide that western “industrial” food manufacturing has infected the hospital dining industry. Healthy nutrition is harder to come by than it should be. One of Margaret’s nurses said that there are problems with choices and distribution nationwide. And now we watch a couple run smash amok into a well-meaning system of child protection which, because of its utilitarian, “industrial” philosophy, makes too little room for personal situations. There are simple menus with check boxes for the dining service, and there are simple questionnaires with check boxes for CPS.
Our “industry,” with all its compromises, feels too much like a hollow shell. The harder we try, the further we get behind.
But still, we are grateful for so much. Margaret’s heart breaks and comes back together again, more than once each day, while she waits for the open heart surgery to do its physical repair. She’s feeling better than she has in weeks. Our son Chris will get to spend some time with his mom this morning, while Chris and Melissa, with Jack and Aly, visit Austin for a couple of days. Margaret’s friend Pam offered yesterday to come for awhile from Illinois, to help nurse her back to health. Margaret is so much loved. Thank you, Jesus.
As I was leaving, Andi began to fill up the bottom of page 2 of our public praise report.” One thing that has to go on that list is Margaret’s diabetes teacher doing the dance that Margaret is asking everyone to do when they leave the room. She did it! She’s the second dancer we’ve met among the nursing staff.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, bless his holy name. The Lord has done great things.
Successful surgery next week, along with management of her newfound diabetes, should make her, as my friend Michael said, “feel like a million bucks.” Come, Holy Spirit.
(2 Corinthians 5, Psalm 103, Luke 2)
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