[img_assist|nid=751|title=Dan Haseltine|desc=|link=none|align=right|width=246|height=216]Sunday, June 29, 2008
Some bands take the stage with theatrics. Some with grace and poise. Then there are bands like Jars that move about the stage in somewhat quirky, even awkward but purposeful movements. On a hot muggy, rain delayed night in central Florida the band did just that. There is a fluid in Jars music that rolls from the stage into very the blood and water that make up your existence. You feel Jars. You experience something larger than yourself, deeper than what you may want to explore in a crowd. Looking around I saw people who either didn’t want to, or were unable to, comprehend the flow of the music, the very spirit and essence of God showing up, making Himself known. I think as creatures we hide from God. Its our very nature to hide. We hide from ourselves. When Adam sinned in the garden he hid from God, he didn’t seek after God to seek His forgiveness. Jars reminds us that we are in fact hiding from a world that is dying, and we are slowly dying with it. I don’t know exactly when I stopped sleeping. When I starting sitting and staring into nothing. Trapped in this situation that wont go away. I don’t want it to completely go away. That would mean that Daddy was gone. And mom not far behind him. Is there anyone out there who is struggling with two parents in chemotherapy? Two strong Christians who honestly believe that nothing but the will of God can and will come in their lives. Yet mom calls me as I drive around town visiting patients that are too sick to be left alone, but are victims of the insurance business that says they’ve used up enough hospital time, “Janet, I need you to be strong for me now. Are you going to be OK? Because I really need you now. I can’t handle this (with Daddy) anymore. The doctors have said.....” “You’re a nurse so I know you know more than what your telling me, but can you please just help me thru this? I love you.” My patients have my cell number. I take their calls. They think I am the best nurse Baptist has. I know because they write letters. Letters that get read during staff meetings. All eyes on me. Yet no one sees. Sometimes, I really, truly, honestly wish I wasn’t so alone. That I had arms to fall into to cry. “Janet, I need you to be strong for me.” “Mamma, God has this, he has daddy. If, no when daddy goes, he’s just going to step from here to there. One home to another. We will see him again. One day is like a thousand so he probably won’t even have time to miss us!” She laughs....while I hold everything inside but the tear that slowly rolls down getting trapped in the rim of my sunglasses."I gotta go I'm in someones driveway and I need to go inside." "Thanks Jannie, I love you." "I love you too mom." She has made it through one more day with hope and encouragement from me. Thanks Jars for pouring out a little fluid last night to fill me back up.
Some bands take the stage with theatrics. Some with grace and poise. Then there are bands like Jars that move about the stage in somewhat quirky, even awkward but purposeful movements. On a hot muggy, rain delayed night in central Florida the band did just that. There is a fluid in Jars music that rolls from the stage into very the blood and water that make up your existence. You feel Jars. You experience something larger than yourself, deeper than what you may want to explore in a crowd. Looking around I saw people who either didn’t want to, or were unable to, comprehend the flow of the music, the very spirit and essence of God showing up, making Himself known. I think as creatures we hide from God. Its our very nature to hide. We hide from ourselves. When Adam sinned in the garden he hid from God, he didn’t seek after God to seek His forgiveness. Jars reminds us that we are in fact hiding from a world that is dying, and we are slowly dying with it. I don’t know exactly when I stopped sleeping. When I starting sitting and staring into nothing. Trapped in this situation that wont go away. I don’t want it to completely go away. That would mean that Daddy was gone. And mom not far behind him. Is there anyone out there who is struggling with two parents in chemotherapy? Two strong Christians who honestly believe that nothing but the will of God can and will come in their lives. Yet mom calls me as I drive around town visiting patients that are too sick to be left alone, but are victims of the insurance business that says they’ve used up enough hospital time, “Janet, I need you to be strong for me now. Are you going to be OK? Because I really need you now. I can’t handle this (with Daddy) anymore. The doctors have said.....” “You’re a nurse so I know you know more than what your telling me, but can you please just help me thru this? I love you.” My patients have my cell number. I take their calls. They think I am the best nurse Baptist has. I know because they write letters. Letters that get read during staff meetings. All eyes on me. Yet no one sees. Sometimes, I really, truly, honestly wish I wasn’t so alone. That I had arms to fall into to cry. “Janet, I need you to be strong for me.” “Mamma, God has this, he has daddy. If, no when daddy goes, he’s just going to step from here to there. One home to another. We will see him again. One day is like a thousand so he probably won’t even have time to miss us!” She laughs....while I hold everything inside but the tear that slowly rolls down getting trapped in the rim of my sunglasses."I gotta go I'm in someones driveway and I need to go inside." "Thanks Jannie, I love you." "I love you too mom." She has made it through one more day with hope and encouragement from me. Thanks Jars for pouring out a little fluid last night to fill me back up.