Jon Roberts Page 99

By Karla Klemm — Grand Junction, Colorado … “You’re not going to like this assignment,” were the words I heard as two coworkers entered my office. It’s funny what the brain thinks in split seconds.  As the manager of the WIC program for Mesa County, a supplemental nutrition program for Women, Infants and Children, I usually have a schedule that is quite consistent and routine, thanks also to a wonderful staff.  Little did I realize that this would change for awhile.  It turns out it was “all hands-on deck” for the COVID-19 effort and I was needed to coordinate the COVID sampling site for my county.

Now my days are filled with coordinating volunteers, making sure the physical site is ready and that the sample kits are in place, working with new departments that I usually don’t interact with, and also checking in with staff that are now working remotely.  I am proud of being involved with an effort to stem the tide of this unprecedented pandemic.

The first day of my new assignment, to say I was exhausted, was an understatement.  When I hear media reports that fellow citizens are trying to find ways to prevent boredom with this quarantine, I realize this is not my reality.

My husband David, who isn’t necessarily known for his culinary skills, has stepped up to the plate and is now the head salad maker of our household.  He’s learned that Google has a lot of advice to offer about how to cook a potato.

Realizing that this assignment could go on for a while, I have found how important sleep is.  In the morning, after a devotional, I take 20 minutes to do a stretching routine on PBS, called Classical Stretch, which is similar to Tai Chi.  I feel like I’m stronger because of it.

When I get home after work, I check out David’s latest salad creation, head to my small backyard, take off my socks and bury my feet in the grass and do some “earthing.” There is definitely power in nature and I have enjoyed watching spring unfold.  My cat, Thea (pictured), has also benefited from this ritual as she is usually housebound.  The birds have a different opinion as they watch the bird feeder from a tree, awaiting Thea’s absence from the yard.

When the weekend comes, I am so thankful for the Sabbath.  I have been listening to music I forgot I had in my iTunes account and also reading books and articles I haven’t had time for during the week.  I like to cook and try new plant strong recipes, go Nordic walking or move plants around in my flower garden.  Our daughter, who lives in Los Angeles, is working from home for now.  Talking with her more frequently makes us very happy.  Also, during this time of isolation, I have enjoyed seeing the homes of the newscasters as they “zoom” from their abodes.  It makes them more relatable to me.

As we all grapple with how to react during this time, I feel the power of poetry is needed more than ever.  Here is an excerpt from a poem by Kitty O’Meara, a Wisconsin chaplain, which seems to sum it up:

“And the people stayed at home
And read books
And listened
And they rested
And made art and played
And learned new ways of being
And stopped and listened
More deeply
Someone meditated, someone prayed
Someone met their shadow
And people began to think differently
And people healed…”

Karla Klemm is a dietitian and lives in Grand Junction where she coordinates cultural gatherings for the Grand Junction Seventh-day Adventist Church. Photos by Karla Klemm.

Karla Klemm & Heidi, nursing coordinator

By Tony Hunter–Boulder, Colorado … My pajamas are amazing. They bring me soft, gentle comfort day after day after day. We are now intimate acquaintances. And, as much joy as they bring me, I like to think I bring them the same kind of joy, as I currently live to fulfill their purpose.

Hi. My name is Tony Hunter, and I’m a hospice chaplain who has just begun his fifth straight week of chaplaincy from my couch as a result of the Covid-19 Stay-at-Home order. Since then, I have not been able to “see” a single patient, family, or team member in person. Instead, I sit on my comfy couch whilst wrapped in my comfy PJs doing chaplaincy things.

Normally, I spend my days driving to different nursing facilities and homes, visiting my patients and/or their families. I carry a caseload of 35-40 patients, 100 percent of whom are dying, 100 percent of whom I have to see every week. Their families are grieving and trying to figure out how to care for their parent, spouse, or child who may have months or days to live. The patient may know they are dying, but most don’t even realize they are sick, as most have some level of cognitive decline. Many can’t communicate at all.

Some do not recognize their family. This makes the grieving process hard for families because, not only are they losing their loved one physically, they’ve already lost their loved one emotionally and psychologically. They sometimes spend months in a steady state of anticipatory grief, and it is my job to sit with the family as they walk through that.  Often, the best we can do is help them to not suffer and grieve alone.

The same is true for patients. It may be about listening to them as they ask questions like “I’m 97. Why won’t God let me die?” But most often, I’m another face who came to visit them, and in their minds in that moment, I’m the only person who came to visit them, because they can’t remember that their family comes every day. They believe they’ve been abandoned and that no one loves them enough to visit them. They don’t remember me seconds after meeting, and instead think I’m a nephew or grandson, or husband. One time, I was their daughter–that was a weird day–and it’s my job to smile and go with it and help them feel loved and not alone. My greatest tools aren’t my words, but instead my hands that hold theirs, my arms that give hugs, and my warm body that sits in the room with them when they are no longer able to form words.

And then Covid-19 came and took away most of my tools. Zoom and other telehealth platforms can be used, but most of my patients don’t remember how phones work, and they wonder who that weird voice is talking to them through the plastic thing in their hand. Sometimes a facility member will try to hold a phone for them, or open up a video conferencing app, but most can’t engage it and most of those become agitated because they don’t understand it.

Chaplains in the hospital setting are also adapting. They can no longer go in patient rooms and have use mobile Telehealth carts to video chat with a patient from outside their room. It works, but it requires adaptation of practice as the normal way of presence and relaxed intentionality no longer work the same. And that is if the hospital is set up for such things, in which case chaplains can’t visit at all beyond phone calls to rooms. In education, schools are shut down which means chaplains are utilizing video conferencing or even just texting with students in need. In that setting the need is often increased as some students are stuck away from their families with only social media to make connections.

Just like in hospice, families can’t see their loved ones. But therein lies something important. Before, I was sitting with people in their experience, but now I am talking with people as I share their experience. And that subtle difference is infinitely important. I sit in my house in my pajamas, just like the families. I give them a phone call, because I can’t leave my house to see people, just like them. And we talk about what it’s like to be isolated from the people we care about and love. The difference is, when this is done, I’ll get to see my people again. But for many families, the next time they will be allowed to see their loved one is when that person dies. This has opened up a new and more efficient avenue for helping families process their loss.

Before, I would have to work hard to get some families to engage the reality of fatigue and loss. But now, it’s hitting them immediately. When I call them, they start talking about being isolated and stuck at home, then quickly they speak of how hard it is to know their loved one is alone. But then the truth comes out. Because the loved one with the cognitive decline hasn’t actually noticed a difference during quarantine. But the family has. Now, the family begins to recognize what that loved one must feel like all the time, and now the family fears they will never see their loved one again this side of death, and now they have no ability to hide from the reality.

As a result, my work is strangely more intimate. We get to start from a shared perspective. I get to be present with them in a new way. There is less physical presence, but now there is shared emotional presence and together we share our experience. And we share tears. And the reality they have denied for so long becomes very real and we confront it together. We step right into it and walk through it. And whether we pray together for strength on the journey, or whether I listen as they rage against an unfair God, we keep moving forward in spite of fear and loss and regret.

We move forward together, sharing in each other’s wisdom, companionable in the shared reality, all while seated on our comfy couches wrapped in our soft pajamas. Because in our pajamas, shut away in our homes far distant from each other, I may be more accessible than ever.

I’m going to be glad when Covid-19 loses its hold on society. But I may never not wear my pajamas again.

Tony Hunter is a Seventh-day Adventist pastor and a Hospice Chaplain working for Elevation Hospice in Northern Colorado; Photo by Shutterstock

By Ardis Stenbakken–Here in Loveland, a young man, Max Moree, working on his Eagle Scout project, refurbished a huge star that had deteriorated on a hillside and was no longer lit. It is generally lighted only at Christmas, but has been lighted before during crises–the Iran hostage crisis and September 11, 2001. Now it is lighted again as a beacon of hope for the Loveland residents during the pandemic. To give hope. But is that really where hope comes from?

Hope. We have hope: hope that this COVID-19 will soon be over. Hope that we can meet again in worship. Hope that the kids will be able to go back to school, hope that there will once again be childcare, and hope that our school seniors will be able to have a graduation ceremony.

But that is not really the hope I am talking about. I am talking about having hope even if these things don’t happen for a very long time, or even at all.

“Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord” (Psalms 31:24). That is where the real hope lies. Hope for those struggling with kids stuck in the house, for those who worry about family members in the health profession, for those who are sick. Hope as you feed your family and pay the mortgage. “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God (Psalm 42:11).

Ardis Stenbakken writes from Loveland, Colorado, where she is a member of Campion Seventh-day Adventist Church. She is a former Women’s Ministry director of the General Conference; photo by Rajmund Dabrowski

By Jessyka Dooley–Denver, Colorado … As COVID-19 sweeps the country, we’ve all experienced normal life descend into a world of online and virtual connection. From work to school to social hour, people are connecting through screens rather than in person. Find here what is available to our RMC young people:

HIGH SCHOOL VESPERS – At Campion and Mile High academies, school leaders and administration are now hosting live, Friday evening vespers for their students. Taking place at 6 p.m. MST, the academy vespers programs allow students to connect with their own schools in a positive and engaging way despite being spread out across Colorado and the country. Students tuning in to their school’s vespers receive worship, a message, and important announcements that help keep everyone united during this time apart.

Immediately following the MHA and Campion programs, the MVMNT hosts an engaging and dynamic service built upon the idea that social interaction and connection do not need to stop in a time of social distancing. Last week, participants tuned in at 7:30 p.m. MST to enjoy good conversation and a game (two rooms and a Zoom) before a short worship thought. You may be thinking, how can we play a game over Zoom? Guess you’ll need to join this coming Friday to find out! Email Pastor J. Murdock ([email protected]) for the Zoom link and password.

RMC YOUTH HOSTS WEEKLY “YOUTH LEADERS” ZOOM MEETING – In the age of COVID-19 and virtual ministry, churches and schools alike have dropped their perceived boundary lines to minister as one.

For the past three weeks, youth pastors and leaders from around the conference have connected via Zoom to discuss what virtual ministry looks like specifically for kids, teens, and young adults in the Rocky Mountain Conference. Familiar and new faces alike have joined these meetings to gain insight, ideas, and resources to benefit growth in their local contexts.

Collaborations that began long ago are now bursting with opportunity as leaders across the conference seek this new opportunity to run Bible studies, Connect Groups, and Sabbath Schools together.

The plan for 2021 has been to run a Greater Summit: Leaders for those involved in youth ministry across the conference. We’ve seen a silver lining to this global pandemic in that it has jump-started the collaboration process. Leaders from across the conference are able to connect, share, and collaborate on ministry ideas and events together. There is no more “my kids” and “your kids” because right now they are all “our kids” and we want the absolute best for them during this crazy time.

If you are a youth leader in your local church, school, or community, and would like to be part of this weekly meeting, contact Jessyka Dooley ([email protected]) for the Zoom link and password.

Jessyka Dooley is RMC associate youth director; photo by Harry Cunningham at Unsplah

By Rick Mautz–Denver, Colorado … The Rocky Mountain Lifestyle Center, a department of the Rocky Mountain Conference, has been very active during this health crisis, working to bring you helpful information.  You can access this information from www.rmlc.online by looking for specific pages devoted to COVID-19 with the labels “COVID-19” and “Daily BOOST”.

While the media has clearly presented instructions on avoiding exposure, a critical part of your protection, our purpose is to help you know how to build up your immune system, an area seldom presented by the media. Even after a vaccine is developed, the primary player in this battle will be your immune system.  If or when you are exposed to this virus, a strong immune system can react quickly to fight off this invader.  With a compromised immune system, the virus multiples more quickly and can gain the upper hand before the body can detect its presence and begin the fight.

We are fortunate to live in a time of advanced medical care and practices, but we must not forget the critical role each of us can play in maintaining health and fighting disease.  I encourage you to maintain a balanced approach to health, which includes an understanding of the power of lifestyle and things you can do for yourself that, in most cases, cost you nothing.

When we discover and implement the things we can do for ourselves, we lessen the fear and stress that weakens our immune system.  Active stress (doing something to improve our condition) is known to improve the immune system, while passive stress (fear of something we have no control over) weakens our immune system.

Take advantage of the lifestyle support on our website and remember these few steps.

• Stress less with trust in God,
• Get outside for fresh air, sunlight, activity while exploring God’s creation,
• Eat a whole plant food diet while not overeating,
• Drink plenty of water and try a daily hot and cold shower,
• Reach out and support others by phone or other media,
• Get plenty of rest.

Make this a time to build your health not only for this health crisis but for a happier and healthier life after it passes.

Rick Mautz is RMC health ministries director. Rocky Mountain Lifestyle Center is part of RMC.