Surrender

Posted on October 28, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Yesterday, there was
another letting go.
What I wanted was set aside 
for the good of someone else.

This morning, there was
another noticing
of how dark and dull another life would be
if I were not here to lift the blinds 
or change the batteries.

Eventually, these tasks will be handed over
to someone else,
and then a day will come
when nothing is needed
at all.

But for now, 
I am here,
and You are lifting blinds
so I can see. 
You are giving me
all I need.

Surrender don’t come natural to me
I’d rather fight You for something I don’t really want
Than to take what You give that I need.
–Rich Mullins, Hold Me Jesus, Songs

Credits and References:
“Leaf’ by seyed mostafa zamani. Used with permission.
“Surrender” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Aging, compassion, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

At the Edge

Posted on October 20, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

For months now, 
I’ve had to be “on” 
with an endless to-do list
and little time to sink down
into You.

And now that I have time,
for a while anyway,
I can’t seem to find my way home.
I can’t enter into Your silence.

Just when I feel the weight 
of being outside,
You meet me at the edge.

I hear You say,
“Of course, it’s hard to enter in.
You’ve been jostled and on alert. 
You’ve let go of responsibilities
and the world is carrying on without you.
You’re not who you were
and not sure who you’re becoming.

“So I will meet you here
just as I met you in your busyness
and, before that, in the quiet.
I will lead you home
to my heart
and rest your soul in mine.

“But for now, I am content
to sit with you here
at the edge.”

Credits and References:
“Galiano Island” by David KK
“On the Edge” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rhythm and Rest

Posted on October 14, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

I was amazed to discover
how much I could accomplish
–without a good night’s sleep
or morning quiet time–
when I had to.

Then, help came 
and now
I don’t have to.
I get to rest.

I’ve returned home
to familiar faces, spaces,
and silence. 

You were there,
being my ground when each day jostled.
You are there as the dust settles
and a new way appears. 
You are here now,
as I get to think about myself
and what I’d like to do
for a while.

I liked being “the good daughter,”
appreciated, needed,
yet others can take my place.

It’s been a lot of
planning and changing,
making mistakes and apologizing, 
learning new things and staying in my lane,
adjusting and letting go, 
as I find a new rhythm in this life
that is not my own.

God says he is with us on our journeys.
He says he has been with us since each of our journeys began.
–Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey

Credits and References:
“Skipping” by Robert Fairchild. Used with permission.
“Rhythm and Rest” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
“Bloedcicade” by Sylvia Sassen. Used with permission. 
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Aging, compassion, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Today

Posted on October 7, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?
Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?
–John L. Bell, The Summons

On the fifth morning after moving into the seniors’ residence,
my dad enjoyed getting dressed without something going wrong.

My mom set herself up in her recliner
(adjusting the cushion,
moving the footstool into place,
shifting her 4’10” body back,
kicking the stool out of the way
and raising her feet)
all on her own. 

I slept through the night.

Today,
there are no appointments to go to,
no nurse,
telephone technician,
or housekeeper arriving.

The sun is shining,
and Dad has done the dishes.

Today,
I am not sobbing in the lobby
because I don’t know where my mother has gone.
I don’t have to ask the kitchen staff to adjust the menu.
I am not learning about a new drug and what it does to the body.

Today,
I am going for a walk
knowing
that this is harder than I thought,
better than I thought,
and I am in the right place. 

Even here your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
–Psalm 139:10 (NIV, adapted)

Credits and References:
“Morning” by crom shin. Used with permission. 
“Today” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
“Trail walking” by marneejill. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

In the Valley of the Shadow of Death

Posted on September 30, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

When we imagine surrendering our life to God, we often brace ourselves for unwanted change. Of course, we do, fearful creatures that we are. But after I asked God to take and receive my life at the end of my eight-day retreat, my days were filled with bike rides, starry nights, ocean sunsets and mountaintop moments with my honey.

Then my mom got cancer.

Now, as you have been reading in my blog, my days are filled with caring for my parents. God didn’t make this “bad thing” happen. But God knew what would happen and has been preparing me for this journey through the valley of the shadow of death.

At first, life was changing so fast that Fred and I could hardly keep up with it. It hasn’t slowed down yet. It’s been one FFT (effing first time) after another. Knowing that helped us give ourselves some grace. While this is our first rodeo, thankfully, it isn’t God’s. God has been here many times before as a helper and as a wounded one.

In this valley, I am learning some things.

I had wondered if I had an inordinate attachment to being outside biking and hiking and if that desire would supersede other desires. I was surprised to discover that when I needed to be on deck helping my parents, I didn’t want to be anywhere else. Also, when we got time away from caregiving, my capacity to enjoy camping returned. I will never forget the current of joy I felt when we settled into our campsite at Illecillewet in Glacier National Park. I knew then that I could trust God to give me the desires of my heart.

In this valley, I am receiving some things.

Terminal illness, stress, change and aging do not always bring out the best in us. My capacity to offer compassion to another didn’t include taking whatever was dished out. Sometimes I had to hold my ground and ask for what I wanted. I was grateful to receive the courage and capacity to stand up for myself. I was also grateful that forgiveness allowed genuine affection to return. I didn’t have to work at it. I simply received it.

In this valley, I am not alone.

I love this picture of the shepherd and all those sheep! I am not alone. Jesus is walking with me, tending to my needs. Many others are walking with me on this journey, and I am grateful for each and every one of them.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I won’t be afraid.
You are with me,
and your shepherd’s rod makes me feel safe.
–Psalm 23:4 (adapted from ESV and CEV)

Credits and References:
“Rogers Pass” by .Used with permission
“Shepherd and His Flock” by . Used with permission. 
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Aging, community, compassion, Reflections, Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Light in the Darkness

Posted on September 23, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

There are just some losses that are unbearable, the loss is so deep. But if we don’t panic, if we don’t panic and walk in the loss, we can see starting to shine out through it, lessons about fragility and love and eternality and wisdom.
–James Finley, Turning to the Mystics podcast

Life isn’t what I’d like it to be.
In so many ways,
it is not the life I want.
Overwhelm comes, goes
and comes back again,
grief  stoically aches,
and just when I think I’ve landed on something solid
the ground shifts and cracks
beneath my feet.

How can it be
that in this place of complicated loss
I am given
the love I always wanted?

I see it now
shining in the darkness,
and the darkness 
will never put it out.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
– John 1:5

Credits and References:
“Candlelight” by Peter Lin. Used with permission.
James Finley’s quote is from Turning to the Mystics Season 8 Julian of Norwich, Episode 1, p 10.
“Light in the Darkness” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
“Wait” by Tom Ek. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Caregivers

Posted on September 15, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

I have been an independent woman
doing what I like
since I became an adult.

Then suddenly I became
a caregiver.
Now, my life is not my own.
My thoughts are about someone else–
their needs, their health.
Life as I knew it 
was swept off the table.

Did you know there are Drug Access Navigators for cancer patients?
I met one.

In the past two months, my siblings and I have met my mom and/or dad’s
GP, oncologist, internist, doctors-on-call,
hospital dietitian, cancer clinic dietitian, ultrasound technician,
ward nurses, chemo nurses, lab techs, porters,
hospital transport drivers, ophthalmologist,
seniors’ residence manager and receptionist,
hairdresser, investors, pharmacists,
housecleaner, lawn cutter, grocers,
caseworker and members of her team, insurance broker,
pastor, neighbours, and friends.

All of them we know by name.
All (save a few that had a bad day) have been incredibly kind
and said things like
“Call me anytime.”
“I’ll do anything for your dad.”
Travis in ultrasound called my mom, “Wonder Woman.”
Mom smiled when she told us that.

I am grateful for all these dedicated caregivers.
I am so glad we got to meet them.

But I also want to tell you about the caregivers
I have gotten to know and appreciate in a whole new way:
my sister, my two brothers and their wives,
Fred
and myself.

I don’t want to brag
but caregivers are Wonder People.

Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself
and went where you wanted;
but when you are old you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will dress you
and lead you where you do not want to go.
-John 21:18 (NIV)

Credits and References:
Christ healing Peter’s mother-in-law by Rembrandt, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“Caregivers” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
“Caregiver isn’t a noun” poster by Chronic Joy®. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Aging, community, compassion, Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

For a Time

Posted on September 8, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Long ago,
You became flesh
and dwelt among us.

For a time,
You moved into the neighbourhood,
stepped into people’s lives,
answered their questions,
comforted their hearts,
healed their bodies
and cast out their demons.

And what were you doing before and after
those thirty years?
And what are you doing now
in my topsy-turvy life?

Well, wouldn’t you know it!
There you are 
doing what you always do–
answering my questions
with a phone call, a visit to the medical supply store, or a search on Google,
comforting my soul and tending to my needs 
as one angel after another appears
to give me a hug, help me process the day,
or surprise me with chocolate.

There you are again
casting out my demons
when I miraculously find myself
speaking the words
I didn’t have
and couldn’t say
when I was a kid.

 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son,
who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
–John 1:14 (NIV)

Credits and References:
“Jesus and the Samaritan Woman at the Well” Guercino, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“For a Time” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
“The Good Shepherd” by RosaryTeam CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in Poetry, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Calling in the Angels

Posted on September 1, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

The rhythm of the everyday pilgrim 
includes coffee in the morning 
and a spacious amount of time
to quiet her mind and open her heart
to meet God in silence.

Her Rule of Life reminds her to
get outside, 
eat well,
and look for God
in the day’s consolations and desolations
and then write about it.

These spiritual practices 
are like the trellis 
that allows the Gardener
to prune and grow
flowers and fruit
in her life.

It’s all so 
tidy.

Until there is a phone call
and suddenly
her tidy, sturdy trellis
is gone
for days 
and weeks on end.

And where is the Gardener
in the new rhythm
of unexpected challenges,
the dance of one step forward  and two steps back,
and the relentless stream of decisions
to be made
along with beds, meals, phone calls, appointments, shopping
and laundry,
(Never mind the nightly visits of
Worry and Fear)?

Where is Christ now?

He’s holding her close,
whispering in her thoughts,
breathing her prayers,
and calling in the angels. 

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
–Psalm 139:8

Credits and References:
Photo “Tularosa is beautiful” by Sharon Sperry Bloom. Used with permission.
“Calling in the Angels” by Esther Hizsa, 2023.
“Angels” by vgm8383. Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in community, compassion, Prayer, Reflections, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

State of Emergency

Posted on August 25, 2023 by Esther Hizsa

Fires out of control
Smoky skies, scratchy throat
Bags packed and ready
to evacuate

Lord, have mercy. 

Diagnosis
Prognosis
Chemo
Side effects
70-80 percent successful
She’s the one the doctor’s talking to

Lord, have mercy.

Clutching a cardboard sign
on the verge of collapse
untouched by the few dollars
pressed into his hand

Lord, have mercy. 

Warm and dry
far from wind and fire
pokes and pain
well-fed, well-loved
and wide awake at one a.m.
I’m sitting on the bathroom floor
writing this poem
and hoping it will save me from
the looping thoughts
that won’t let go

Lord, have mercy on us all.

Credits and References:
“State of Emergency” by Esther Hizsa, 2023
On banner “Candle” by . Used with permission.
© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2023.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2023.  http://www.estherhizsa.com
Posted in compassion, Homelessness, Poetry, Poverty of Spirit, Reflections | Tagged , , , , , , , | 5 Comments