Queens of Clean

I have met three women that could give Mr. Kleen a run for his money. Clean was almost an obsession with each one of them. That habit was nearly to the point that there was nothing in their lives more important than to have a spotless house. I’ve told these stories before. This is only a few.

The first woman I’ll mention is Joan an LPN at Frick Hospital whose habits of home cleanliness extended to her work habits. I’ve shared numerous adventures in my other postings. One tale was her washing her full length white leather coat in her clothes washer. She stood on the top of it to pry the coat from inside. She would kneel on her basement floor and scrub the cracks with a toothbrush or she would clean her house before her cleaning lady would arrive. Joan took her own linens and cleaning supplies when she and her husband would go on vacation. There were multiple incidents that occurred while at work. She thought nothing of placing a dirty child in a sink and scrubbing them clean. Sometimes her acts caused her to be reprimanded.

The other women who I will mention are my aunts: Aunt Estella Strawderman and Aunt Helen Stahl. Aunt Helen had chores for each day of the week: Laundry, ironing, baking, etc. as well as a thorough cleaning of a different room each day. The cleaning would be like a spring cleaning for anyone else. She was a pleasant, jolly woman with a desire to provide the best home for her six children.

One peculiarity she had was her choices in colors. Each room of her house was painted a different color: turquoise, coral, and vibrant green. Her desires for bright colors may have been influenced by Anna Beck, her mother and my grandmother.

My Aunt Estella was unbelievably clean. She worried when people visited her home. The cost of her cleaning supplies rivaled the cost for food. When she washed dishes, she’d dry, then wax her countertops. She laid rag rugs on her scrubbed floors, then covered the rugs with newspapers. When her children visited, arriving with their family on Friday evening and leaving Sunday afternoon she would wait nervously until one minute after midnight to wash their dirty linens. She didn’t want dirty linens in her house but she didn’t dare work on Sunday. After an ice storm, she climbed a ladder to wash her windows, fell, and broke her leg. The compound fracture collected dirt as she crawled for help and she nearly lost her leg. She even waxed her enamel painted front steps making them even more slippery.

These are my queens of clean.

Innocent Blood

In several Bible passages Jehovah God warns and condemns those who spill innocent blood. He actually hates the people who spill innocent blood, going beyond that to say that it is an abomination. What is more innocent than an unborn child? What is more blameless than an infant in the womb, no guilt, no blame, and so pure? The LORD states His loathing of that person in Proverbs 6:16-19. God doesn’t equivocate. He states His position firmly and clearly.

God also states that He will not hold the land guiltless that allows innocent blood to be shed. In Deuteronomy 19:10, He says He will judge the land that allows abortions. The entire nation will be held accountable for that sin. For too long have we Christians have remained silent, even permitting government tax money paid by you and me to promote and to fund this despicable practice.

An infant in the mother’s womb is an entirely separate being from the mother having a brain and nervous system of its own, a separate heart and circulatory system, and having it has its own blood supply. Often, the unborn infant has completely different blood type than the mother. I don’t understand when humanists make the claim that an unborn child is just a blob of cells. God says that life of the flesh is in the blood. He repeats it in Genesis 9:14 and in Leviticus 17:11 and 14. And the unborn definitely has blood supply of its own.

The LORD despises the evil religions that sacrifice their sons and daughters unto devils and shedding their innocent blood. That act polluted their land. Fifty million voices cry out from the blood soaked ground of the United States alone. How long will Jehovah ignore their cries before He holds America accountable and brings judgment? As a “civilized” nation, we call religions that sacrificed children on altars or threw them into volcanoes to appease their gods as barbarians, yet Americans are much worse. We allow people to sacrifice innocent children for convenience; destroying them as they’re being formed.

God says that He knows the infant while it was yet forming in the secret place of the mother’s womb, Psalm 139:15. He echoes this fact in Jeremiah 1:5 and Isaiah 44:2 when He says that He actually knew the child before He formed them in the belly. He forms and shapes the infant in that secret place. He controls the development of the baby saying the child is fearfully, wonderfully, and marvelously made; even when the infant is yet unperfect, undeveloped, and all its members were not yet shaped. Will we end this slaughter? When will God decide to impose His judgment?

Will the Cure Kill the Patient?

With the fear of the corona virus even more rampant than the virus, will the measures to curb the panic inflict more damage than the disease itself? Only time will tell. Curtailing business hours or actually closing businesses will cause a deep chasm that our country and possibly the entire world may take a decade to escape if it can at all. Before the closures, many businesses could ill afford the impact of the forced closures. Many will limp along for awhile after reopening then fail by the governmental sanctions.

Supply chains will be severed. Manufacturing jobs will be lost. Food service employees may never be called back to work. Loss of jobs will limit the ability of people to purchase homes, vehicles, and multiple other items. If Americans don’t curb the desire to live at the same level before the governmental intervention, debt will rise inflating personal deficit and deflating the purchasing power of our currency.

The life savings of the middle class may be eradicated. The level of living for those on a fixed income will sink even lower, forcing them to decide whether to eat, buy medications, heat their homes, or pay their rent or house payments. They will have to choose if they are able to buy gasoline or to insure their home or vehicle. Will they lose their home because of the ever increasing load of taxes or will they fall victim to the rising cost of living?

The fear that the government has induced with their restrictions so far has spurred the panic. It’s limited our freedom to assemble, freedom to pursue happiness, earn our wages, and threatens us with violence or financial penalties if we disregard those intrusions into our lives.

Those incursions into our freedoms are only one step away from martial law. Our American forefathers told England to cease and desist and when they chose to ignore the colonists; our militia trounced them and sent them packing back across the sea. Will it take another war to regain what the fear of the corona virus has taken from us? The government seeks to buy our silence with stimulus payments. To me this smacks of Socialism.

I know that people are fearful, but there is peace; a peace that passes mankind’s understanding. It’s found in a relationship with Christ Jesus. No matter what the world throws at us, those who seek the Savior will have their eternal destination assured. Psalm 23 is but one comforting chapter in the Bible that allays fear and shows how God will care for us.

Splish Splash

Janie was a ward clerk on one of the medical/surgical floor at Frick Hospital in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. She had an extremely squeamish stomach and could not tolerate seeing sputum, urine, or any other bodily samples when they were in their clear plastic containers. Most often the specimens were placed on the nursing station’s ledge.

She wanted the containers to be wrapped in a paper towel or she would recall the person who placed it there ato return to the station and cover the specimen. It was then Janie’s job to complete the request form for tests ordered and place it beside the sample heading to the lab.

Resting immediately below the ledge was the intercom system for the floor. Janie was most often the person who used the call box to make announcements for any patient care needed and the room number.

Unknown to the nursing assistant who placed the paper towel covered bottle of urine on the ledge, the container had a crack. As it sat on the ledge the urine began to ooze out and to drip onto the call box. Earlier, Janie saw the sample sitting there and was filling out the request for the urinalysis. When she turned to place the completed chit on the ledge by the sample, she noticed urine dripping onto the electronic call bell system.

First she gagged holding her hand over her mouth, then she leaped to her feet. Her chair kicked back, shooting across the station to bounce off the wall. Because she was gagging, she couldn’t ask for help. Instead, she danced in a circle not knowing what to do. She couldn’t use the call box to summon someone because it was covered in urine. She couldn’t touch it because of its contamination and was also afraid that she would be electrocuted.

Holding her hand to her mouth she gagged again, then darted out into the hallway grabbing the nearest person she could find to rectify the problem. The nursing assistant brought a Styrofoam cup and placed the specimen inside, then toweled off the ledge, but they had to phone housekeeping and maintenance men to clean and check the call bell box before Janie would even look at the intercom system again.

Not Surprised

An older friend of mine said, “If you’re out and about can you grab some things for me. I need toilet paper, hand sanitizer, and peaches.” Immediately, I thought, “Good luck on that.”  But then I thought I wouldn’t need to go out for several days and surely things will start to settle down by then and there should be no problem. I saw a post that said, certain stores would reserve their opening hour at each branch for the elderly. I thought I’d give it a try and see if I could find her requests.

I almost titled this post as “Mission Impossible,” but decided to give it a college try. I stopped at three stores; two were chain companies and one was a local vendor. I wasn’t surprised that the stores were empty of those products. Many bare shelves greeted me. What good is it to allow the elderly in to shop when shelves are bare? Is this a taste of Socialism? When I commented about the missing products, I felt the frustration of the clerk. Perhaps she thought I was another complaining customer. When I mentioned “That’s just crazy, I’m surprised that these people don’t attack the truck drivers making deliveries.”

A disgusted look crossed the clerk’s face and she shared, “I was unpacking a carton of toilet paper. I was attacked by customers who rushed me and took the packages before I could put them on the shelves.”

I commented I was a retired nurse, and I understood. I had to deal with the public as well. Some of them were nearly as crazed as this.

I’m not surprised that people have gotten so fearful and greedy. After the Great Depression, parents tried to give their children things that they never had growing up; things that were too scarce or too expensive. The following generations got used to having what they needed which then evolved into always getting what they wanted,. They often had no respect to the parents who birthed them, loved them, and gave them the things they have.

As Christians, we need to be the salt and light of the world. We need to show to others the love of Christ and not be fearful in this panicked world. We need to reach out to others in distress. Although we Christians are living in this world, we are not to be of this world. Our treasures lie in heaven and not here on earth. All that is not done for the honor and glory of God is but chaff to be blown away or stubble that will be burned, and yes, that includes toilet paper.

Do Gooders

Have you ever rooted for the bad guy on television or in the movies? Have you ever read a story and hoped to find out that the evil criminal, enemy, or spy in the plot will win and somehow come out ahead without punishment? Have you ever read a newspaper and praised the person who abuses an animal, a child, or a spouse and thought “Good job?” If you ever have felt lie cheering for the villain, you may need to reevaluate your life.

In this time of concern for the illness called the corona virus, I see posts from people who have stripped shelves bare from many of the most essential products needed for safety and life. I know in our past we haven’t had toilet paper, disposable diapers, baby formula, and have managed to get along quite well. But in a generation where these things are everyday items on which they rely, it is almost criminal to remove them and to cause a panic, which in turn created more frenzied buying and hoarding of other products. Just take a chill pill. Sit back and relax. The less we rush into fearful patterns, the sooner thing will return to normal. The media feeds this pandemonium by sharing the most lurid details. Instead of reporting the facts, they seem to exaggerate situations for ratings.

What almost always becomes shoved aside is the people who stand firm in the midst of a crisis; the people who see their neighbors in a difficult situation and give assistance. Have we taken the time to check on the elderly people in their communities who are often forgotten by the world? Are we grateful people who thank the veteran or those still in the military and help to keep our nation great and free?

I hear of small stories that make a large impact. I read a story of a sickly mom with several small children who had to sit the children down and explain why they couldn’t find some items they needed. She didn’t explain the greed of others, but how God would provide for them. She said one of her kids was a worrier and was still concerned.

The next day I saw a post from the same mom thanking an anonymous “angel” that left a bag of food and toilet paper on their front porch. Examples of do gooders do exist, we just need to keep our eyes open and maybe if we keep our hearts open, we can become do gooders too.

Fear or Victory

Whether the fear and induced panic over the corona virus is real or a hyped media and political concern; there is one who is greater than it all, God the Father. God created the earth and all that is in it. Nothing happens that He has not foreseen. Mankind has the freedom of choice and often wanders away for the wonderful plans He has for their lives. I try to share my thoughts of mankind’s attempts to overthrow God and replace something in His place, I’m ridiculed.

I am concerned to see how quickly freedom loving Americans have allowed the governmental agencies to tell us where we can go, when we can go, and what we can do. It is disheartening to see how readily we pass the reins for our freedom to others. Can this be a trial run for a Communist inroad, for a take-over, or a path for the one word government predicted in the Bible for the last days?

Once a nation built on the foundation of Biblical tenets and God given rights has now become Christian in name only. With our nation promoting and praising the sins that God destroyed other nations for committing, how long will God withhold His punishment? How close to the end times have we moved?”

When I point out that each and every media outlet commentator shares the exact words and phrases as they foist what they have been told that “truth” is and try to convince you that what they’ve said is true. What I ask is, “Who is writing the script that each commentator spews out, an echo of each other? Who is the voice behind them that wants to lead the public?

Recently, these commentators have used Wuhan and China to describe the outbreak of the corona virus. Over and over in their reports day and night those names were used, but as soon as our President Donald Trump says China or Wuhan, they turned on him calling him racist or a xenophobe for using the very same words. They berate him for doing nothing and when he closes immigration from some foreign countries, again he’s racist or xenophobic.

His attempts to prevent undocumented, non-inoculated immigrants to enter the United States by creating a barrier, he was again chastised with the same names. It’s easy for them to change their attacks because the American public is gullible and easily distracted from one day to the next. The leading of the commentators cause waves of support for their often false representation of world views and world happenings.

We as a nation need a revival and a return to God while He still withholds His judgment.

Doctors Aren’t God

A man in his mid seventies was admitted to our intensive care unit at Frick Hospital, Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania. He was admitted multiple times in the past for his diabetes, CHF, and kidney failure. This time he was admitted with sepsis. Because of his other problems the physician’s aggressive treatment didn’t seem to be making headway. He wasn’t responding to the medications and treatments and was placed on a ventilator in an attempt to gain time for the treatments to take hold.

He had five adult children. Each one was very high strung and emotional. Naturally they were worried about their father and asked the doctor about his chances for getting well. The doctor said, “I don’t think he will pull through this time. He’s very ill.”

There were a few tears, but knowing the family, it was reasonable. One of the daughters pressed, “How long, doctor?”

The doctor replied, “I don’t know. It could be two days or it could be two weeks.”

The next day their father arrested and could not be revived. Once the code was over and the family was allowed into the unit to see their father, one daughter threw herself on her father’s bed and shrieked, “You promised me two weeks! You promised me two weeks!”

That started the rest of the family gesticulating wildly and weeping. One of the sons started to rip off his shirt before leaving the hospital. The others left behind were screaming for their father to “Wake up!”

At that time with a doctor’s order we could get Valium pills to medicate grieving family members to dull the intensity of the blow. The doctor could fill out a form and we fetched the medication from the pharmacy. We filled glasses of water and handed the doctor the pills. He moved among the mourners passing out the water and pills like a priest dispensing the sacraments of wine and wafers. Some left to go home, a few stayed for awhile until their emotions drained and the Valium took effect.

Through the grapevine I heard one son was so emotionally distraught that at home, he picked up a shovel and smashed out the windows of his car. In my thirty-six years of nursing, this was the most bizarre outburst of grief that I’d ever seen.

Grandparents

How many of us can say that they could live like their grandparents? How many of us could do without our cell phones, our computers, or our televisions. Who wants to return to snail mail? Who could or would want to give up using our microwaves, our refrigerators, or our freezers. Anyone want to wash their clothes by hand and hang them to dry in the basement or outside on ropes in inclement weather?

Our grandparents’ wagons, coaches, and horseback riding slowly gave way to traveling in trains, trolleys, trucks, and cars. Flying was unheard of and left for something that only the birds did. Travel then took days or months, not just minutes or hours.

Food was canned, dehydrated, or eaten fresh from the garden. Beans were washed and snapped. Tomatoes were peeled and chopped or made into juice. Cornhusks were shucked, cleaned, and cut from the cob. All the vegetables were then cold packed in quart mason jars, Cheeses and butter was made at home. The churns were arm powered and burdensome. The potatoes were dug and harvested to be stored in the cold cellar with carrots, apples, beets, cabbages, and with the onions that were braided into ropes and hung from the rafters.

The farm was the butcher shop. Almost every rural household had chickens, a cow or a pig in the back yard. Many city dwellers did as well. Their milk and eggs were close at hand. The food scraps would be fed to the animals that would in turn become food for the families. Butchered meats were pickled, canned, smoked, or wrapped and hung to cure. Harvesting and butchering events became times for families to gather and share the labor.

One convenience I am glad has evolved from my grandparents is the indoor toilet. The need to go outside in all types of inclement weather to the privy has lost its quaintness. The second use for the old catalogues has long ago lost its allure. I’m glad that it’s become just a painful memory. May the supply of toilet tissue always be available.

Taking a bath was a once in awhile event with occasional localized ablutions as necessary. Heating the water and facing a frigid room when emerging wet was nothing to induce more frequent bathing. Bath water wasn’t dumped between each family member. The cleanest to the dirtiest made use of the same water, each time the water lost heat and became more tainted.

Oil lamps, gas lighting, or candles illuminated homes. Wood or coal furnaces and fireplaces heated homes.  Insulation was practically nonexistent. Frequent trips to stoke the furnace interrupted sleep otherwise the family woke to a cold house. Anyone lamenting the “good old days?”

Spreading the Seed

Thursday I tried to get my real ID, traveling to Somerset, Pennsylvania to the Department of Transportation Photo Center. It seems that this driver’s license renewal is always less congested and less busy than the ones in Uniontown or Greensburg. Even though I’m retired, I don’t like waiting in lines. I was sure that I had all of the information that was required, but when I got there I couldn’t find my social security card. I was sure that I had it, but kept overlooking it. I had the card’s stub, but it wasn’t acceptable. Then I became flustered and couldn’t find the original. When I got back home, I discovered that the original card was tucked inside the fold of the stub. DUH!

Friday I drove to the Uniontown licensing center fully armed with all of my paperwork. I won’t say that going there was a mistake, but waiting to be processed at that facility was about three times longer than sufering the rejection in Somerset.

While I was in Uniontown, I stopped at the Uniontown Mall to check out an antique store suggested by a friend. It was similar to the old Red & White store antique center near Ligonier, but the Uniontown Mall shop was much cleaner. The friend who suggested that I visit the antique mall was the same person responsible for initiating a blind date between me and my wife Cindy.

Friday evening I helped to unload the equipment and the Scripture that needed to be assembled Saturday morning. It is just a small part of the Seedline ministry, an organization dedicated to printing the Gospel and full Bibles in a number of languages. The John and Romans Scripture we were to assemble were printed in Portuguese and was part of a shipment to Mozambique, Africa.

Fifty-four volunteers of all ages gathered around twelve tables. In an assembly-line fashion, Pages of Scripture were separated and placed on three tables where the volunteers would stuff the pages into covers folded at other tables of workers. The assembled pieces of literature were passed along to the people operating the banks of staplers to attach covers and Scripture.

The final step involved the trimmer. This one ton machine trims the edges off ten booklets at once. There is one person who feeds the machine, one that causes the blades to drop to lop off the uneven edges, and another person who collects and boxes the finished Scriptures.

In less than four hours, our group had compiled 10, 558 copies of John and Romans in Portuguese. We set a record for our church with the number of volunteers and the number of assembled booklets completed.