Situational Purgatory Bringing Peace in Reality

I call it "Situational Purgatory." The time span in between what could be and what will actually be. We have all been there - and it is not a pleasant place to be. For reflective people like the Baptist Rabbi and myself, we spend a great amount of time considering all the possibilities of a situation and what our reaction will be to each. Times of purgatory leave our minds in a state of confusion wondering what the reality of our situation will ultimately bring.  Will it bring happiness or devastation? How do we prepare our minds for each so that we can adequately handle the final news that is delivered?

Dad has lived in such a purgatory since November. We don't realize what a large part of eating is to our social and emotional life until it is stripped from us. Dealing with aspirational pneumonia, Dad was told that he was aspirating on every kind of food/liquid, regardless of its consistency. A feeding tube would need to be placed in his stomach so he could receive the calories and nutrients that he needs to sustain. The "carrot" of therapy was dangled in front of him. There was a small chance that therapy could rebuild some of his swallowing muscles and the tube would be temporary. However, due to the degenerative nature of Parkinson's, there was also the chance that this was irreversible. Thus, he entered the state of situational purgatory. The first round of home health swallow therapy proved to be unsuccessful. The follow-up swallow test showed "no improvement." We were all devastated at the news. We had planned to take him for gravy and biscuit on the way home from the test. But he was unable to move to the positive side of this situational purgatory. My family was at a loss of words to say to him. For control freaks like me, I wanted to fix this situation, and this was simply beyond my control. The elevator stopped and he would remain in purgatory for yet another length of time. Would he ever be able to eat again or was this his new reality?

A new therapy was introduced called Vital Stim that showed some slight hope that it would help. A wonderful group of people from First Baptist made sure that he had transportation to his therapy while I worked. A HUGE thanks to them! Another six weeks was spent trying to grapple with the realities if he would be able to eat again or if the feeding tube was his permanent reality. I am deeply saddened to report that he went for his follow up test yesterday. Lori, the fabulous therapist that worked with him, walked out with tears in her eyes to report that there was, yet again, "no significant improvement." It appears as if Parkinson's has hit this area directly. He has developed a hard swallow, but his epiglottis has completely stopped working. Therefore everything that is swallowed goes into the lungs as well as the esophagus. We are to the point of no return. The purgatory elevator did not land where our prayers had repeatedly requested.

As I tried to pick up the pit from my stomach and determine how I was going to attempt to encourage the well-loved Baptist Rabbi, I was at a loss of words.  Honestly, some specific words came to mind, but they would not be appropriate for this blog!! :) However, as the situational purgatory ended and we were informed of his permanent reality, I was once again surprised by the wisdom of my father. This is a summary of the words that he said to me, "If this happened to me when I was 56, this would be devastating. But I am 74 years old. I can't complain about the life that has been awarded to me. Many of my friends were never given the opportunity to see 70. If I can live 5 more years with the tube, it will be a huge blessing. If I can't, I still have been abundantly blessed." My anger toward God immediately was tempered through the Baptist Rabbi's wisdom.

He has always taught me that life is not fair. He has also taught me that prayers are not always answered in the way in which we choose. Ultimately, it is God's plan, not our own. Maybe this time of purgatory was part of the plan. Maybe this time allowed him (and us) to have time to reflect upon both paths and prepare our hearts and minds for each. My prayer was not answered the way in which I had begged, but I was amazed at the peace that covered the Dean household yesterday with the delivery of this new reality.

While situational purgatory is not a preferred place for us to be, it must serve a purpose. We will deal with this new reality with the love and support from a wonderful community of friends and family. As he continues to wrap his head around this new reality, my prayer is that he can continue to feel God's peace and continue to embrace the many wonderful things that life still has to offer.

As Alan Zimmerman, a member of our Parkinson's Support Group says, "Do as much as I can for as long as I can." The Dean family will try not to focus on what Dad can no longer do and praise what he is still able to do and embrace it as long as we can! I encourage his friends to come celebrate with him, as there is still much life to live!

 Even when prayers are not answered the way in which we wish, God can provide peace in our new realities. I guess situational purgatory plays a role in helping provide that peace. My prayer is that God continues to show his grace and peace in the days ahead.


Update on sweet Marie: Mom also suffered aspirational pneumonia this past week and spent several days in the hospital. We spent a few days in situational purgatory with her as well as they feared she was also aspirating. However, her swallow test came back great and she is home trying to regain her strength. She never ceases to amaze me with her willingness to fight. We have joked for years about her "feisty" personality. It is this fabulous feistiness that allows her to do so well despite all the health issues that plague her. She is one amazing woman.

Ain't No Dust on My Jesus!

I will always remember it..........the dreaded note on the kitchen table. During the summer or times when Mom and Dad would be away, I would wake up and make my way into the kitchen to find a list of chores written on a piece of paper. It was expected that these chores would be completed before I was allowed to participate in any fun activity.  Somewhere on the list, I usually found the word "dust." Mom has always placed utmost importance on a clean house. She hates dust. I remember her dusting her room at odd times: before going to work in the morning, in between putting on make-up and teasing her hair, and while brushing her teeth! While I absolutely hated getting the list of cleaning duties, I will have to admit that it taught me some responsibility. Mom and Dad lived through my resentful comments (even to this day) because they knew that they there were teaching me good life habits.

Sitting in hospitals is torturous! The long wait for healing and the endless hours waiting on a doctor to finally arrive will certainly create some unique conversations in the dark, quiet hospital room. During Dad's last stay in the hospital, we visited almost every floor and area. We started on the 3rd floor, went to ICU, and ended up on the 4th floor after the feeding tube procedure in an operating room. In our first room, we were finding random entertainment. Someone in the room noticed the crucifix. Quickly, it was noted how much dust was on Jesus. Clearly, it had been an eternity since any attention was given to the crucifix by housekeeping. As we began rubbing our fingers across the top of wall hanging analyzing the amount of dust, Dad broke out into song, Southern Gospel style....

Ain't no dust on my Jesus,

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

Ain't no dust on my Jesus, 

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

We all broke into laughter and began singing the song with him! We noticed the dust in the ICU room and sang the song. We noticed the dust on the 4th floor, and we broke out into song. Most nurses that attended to Dad heard the song at one point or another. In fact, some began singing it with us!

The Baptist Rabbi told several visitors that this would be a title of a good sermon! Dad never missed a good chance to use a funny story as the basis of a powerful message! 

There is a lot to be said about dust on our Jesus. Holding Jesus close to us during these past few months has been super easy. When times of trouble hit, we are all prone to pick up our relationship with Him, gather the dust rag, make Him clean and shiny, and hold Him close as we pray for a resolution to our current situation. But what happens when we are on life's mountaintops? Do we carry Jesus equally as close, or do we tend to let Him sit and collect dust, waiting for our next immediate need?

There is one thing for sure. At the Baptist Rabbi's house, there was very little dust. No dust on the furniture, no dust on the floor, and definitely no dust on Jesus. The Baptist Rabbi and his wife hold Jesus close both in the good times and bad. They taught me that being a Christian is not a checklist of actions, but it is a close relationship with Jesus that is constant over time, not based on conditional circumstances.

As we enter this weekend, may we all take just a few moments to make sure there is no dust on our Jesus. Whether we are in the midst of a valley or a mountaintop, He is there waiting to grow closer to each of us. May we all sing the Baptist Rabbi's gospel spiritual song with confidence:

Ain't no dust on my Jesus,

Ain't no dust on my Lord.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for teaching me the power of removing dust! 

                            (After the dusting in ICU!)

Update on the Baptist Rabbi and his wife:  Dad has gained 10 pounds on the feeding tube!!! Praises!! He is adjusting well, although he did cheat on Drew's birthday and ate a few bites of oreo ice cream!! He has begun a new swallow therapy called VitalStim, which we hope proves to be successful in increasing his swallowing ability. A group of wonderful friends, including Gary Bowers, Steve Page, Jack Jones, and Carolyn Braden, are helping with the transportation to doctor appointments and therapy. I am forever grateful to them for their help while I am at work.

Mom has completed her first cataract surgery and will have the second one on February 15. Lindsey Denton has been a lifesaver in getting her to the beauty shop each week! And for those of you who know my Mom, this is the most important activity of the week! She may struggle with mobility, but her hair looks FABULOUS! :)

When Communion Is No Longer An Option

Traditions are important to the Dean and Johnson family. We are known to celebrate for any reason we can create! But Christmas is always a special celebration. On Christmas Eve, you will always find my family with Mom and Dad at the First Baptist Church Christmas Eve Service. It is a special time when I get to go to my home church, reunite with special friends, and most importantly, celebrate the birth of Jesus through a spiritual service and communion.

It is common knowledge that Dad is now on a feeding tube. He considered staying at home, but we encouraged him to attend with us. We entered the church and took our position on the back row of the bottom level. The service began, as did the struggles.

We stood for the singing of the hymn. The Baptist Rabbi did not have the energy to stand, so Mallory sat with him and held the bulletin. After the Christmas message, it is tradition for all participants to light a candle and sing a hymn by candlelight. Once again, Dad was was unable to hold the candle due to the un-welcomed shaking of Parkinson's. Mallory held the candle for him so that he could participate. My sweet Mom had her fair share of issues too as she attempted to maneuver the portions of the service. Drew took his job seriously to ensure that she did not fall and could get up and down successfully.

The service always ends with communion. The congregation silently walked to the front of the sanctuary to receive the elements of bread and juice - signifying the flesh and blood of Christ. Communion is one of the most spiritual acts of worship. As always, I pushed Dad to join us as we made our way to the front of the sanctuary. He shook his head no. I encouraged him again - followed by a second no. As I demand the third time, reality slapped me in the face. It was not that he didn't want to go....he couldn't go. Doctors orders - no food or liquid by mouth. He was what they call NPO. Parkinson's had stripped him of his ability to participate in the act of communion.

He motioned for us to continue our way toward the deacons holding the elements. As we stood in line, I looked back at the strongest man I know. This man of steel had led this same church for almost a quarter of a century. He had blessed the elements and served communion for almost half a century in a variety of places. He had served the Lord faithfully for almost seventy-five years! And now a neurological disorder had robbed him of his ability to take communion. The Baptist Rabbi sat alone, on the back pew, with tears streaming down his face.

Fighting back my own tears of sadness, anger, hurt, and fear, I witnessed a remarkable thing happen. As individuals finished communion, they made their way to Dad. Blessings, hope, and love overflowed on the back row. As we left, several special friends specifically made their way to Mom and Dad to offer them a Christmas blessing. Dad and Mom left the service with their hearts filled.

As Christmas Eve turned to Christmas Day, I was still reflecting on the events of the night. It is true that the Baptist Rabbi was unable to partake in the official elements of communion. However, communion found its way to the back pew of the church and even followed us outside the church walls. The people showed the flesh and blood of Christ through their hugs, words of encouragement, and prayers. Dad could not go to communion, so God brought communion to my Dad through some amazing people. And it was a beautiful thing.

We don't have to go to God. God comes to us.....in all situations and places. Our personal circumstances change, but God does not. He is constant and faithful to those who believe. He meets us in our personal reality or condition and shows us His flesh and blood in a variety of ways - oftentimes through the acts of people. I learned an important lesson on that Christmas Eve. In taking communion and remembering the flesh and blood of Christ, we are called to turn those elements into acts of love, compassion, and hope to others. I am thankful that God can be found everywhere, even on the back pew. I am thankful that when life robs us of our joy, God is there. I am thankful that when communion is not physically possible, God still finds a way to let us know that he is there, fighting for us and with us. Communion may not be an option for some, but God's flesh and blood will never leave our side. Thanks be to God.

Update of Baptist Rabbi: Dad went back for his follow-up swallow test. It did not go as well as we had hoped. The swallow therapy has not shown improvement with his swallowing. It appears as if the feeding tube is a permanent reality, at least for now. He is going to continue with 2 additional types of therapy to see if progress can be made. With this bad news, he has been unusually optimistic. He has put on some weight, he feels strong, and he is ready to begin socializing with his friends. He is still as sharp as ever! I am confident that his attitude has a great deal to do with the community of support that continue to show the flesh and blood of Christ through their acts of kindness and love. From a daughter who loves her Mom and Dad very much, I thank each of you for loving them with me.

Letting Go

There is no better place to grow up than in Clinton, TN. We lived in a fabulous neighborhood on the corner of Redbud and Riverbend. We lived at the bottom of a hill, had a wide driveway, and a large, flat, front yard. This made for a perfect training ground for learning to ride a bike.

Dad decided it was time for me to learn how to ride my bike without training wheels. He patiently took me to the training ground, which began in the middle of Redbud hill, continued through a diagonal portion of the driveway,  and ended on soft grass in the front yard for a smooth stop. For those of you who know me well, I am NOT an adrenaline junky! I am a fairly "safe" person who likes to stay within my bounds. Dad gave me a few attempts with his support, and then he dropped the ball. He said, "This time I am letting go." I responded with statements of begging, lots of tears, and even dropped the, "If you loved me, you wouldn't let go...." statement. However, before I had time to finish my temper tantrum, Dad had taken me to the beginning of the training course, pushed me, and let go. He sat back to see the effects of his decision. He watched the screams of terror and the tears of frustration continue.......as my legs peddled hard and I rode my bike successfully for the first time! A temporary moment of me feeling my Dad had let me go too early resulted in a monumental accomplishment in my childhood. He knew when to let go.

Letting go is an important concept that my Dad taught me. Dad and Mom taught me the difference between assisting and enabling.

• You meet a variety of people throughout life. Some will enhance and others will distract, disappoint, and destroy. Just because we are Christians, God does not call us to stay in relationships that are damaging. We have the free will to shape how we allow people to treat us. We must forgive, but we don't have to enter back into the same type of relationship that we had previously. We can let go.
• We make decisions in life according to the best information we are given. Sometimes, we make the right choices, and sometimes we don't. However, when the decision is made, make the best of it. Keep moving forward. Don't focus on the past. Let it go.
• As Christians, we are called to help those who are in need (family, friends, neighbors, strangers, etc.). We are called to assist finding long lasting resources that will sustain. However, don't get sucked in to the point that your efforts to assist have only enabled. When your efforts have moved to the enabling realm, let go. 
• Raise your children to be independent and strong. Teach them to think for themselves and to seek their own personal dreams. Raise them to be in control of their actions and relationships. Continue to assist and advise, however, there is a time to let them go.

Dad will admit that letting go of the bike that day was not easy. It was not easy for him to hear my screams of terror and questioning of his love for me. Tough love is not easy. But that one moment of pain and uncomfortableness allowed me to learn a new life skill and increased my self confidence. His willingness to "let go" gave me a new sense of freedom and independence. He could have continued to enable me by holding on to the handle bars. While that would have given me a temporary sense of satisfaction, it would not have pushed me to the place I needed to be.

As we enter this new year, may God give us the wisdom to know the things that we need to cling to and the things that we need to let go of in order to continue on a healthy journey of life. May we all learn to discern the difference between assisting, forgiving, and letting go, and may we adhere to the appropriate time for each. Let us be willing to go through scary periods of letting go so we can fully experience God's freedom. God Bless us all in 2016.

Update of Baptist Rabbi and Wife: This blog entry finds my sweet Daddy getting stronger each day at home, learning to adjust to his feeding tube, and continuing to share his fabulous wisdom with those around him. He goes for a follow up swallow test in the next few weeks, and we hope to see some improvement. Mom has tackled her new role as caregiver with courage, strength, and determination. I am so proud of both of them!

A Different Christmas Season: Choosing to Fight

As we stepped outside today in East TN, it had a very different feel. Drew and Scott had on their short sleeve shirts and shorts, neighbors were mowing their yards, and families were out walking their dogs - all in the midst of Christmas decorations and frantic shopping. I think we can all agree that the weather did not feel much like Christmas.

The Dean household has a very different feel as well this year. As most of you probably know, my sweet Daddy has been in a deep war with Parkinson's. The past few weeks have brought several battles with the evil disease. One of the ugly side effects of Parkinson's is dysphasia, or trouble swallowing. This led him into the hospital with aspirational pneumonia. Upon failing all levels of his swallow test, the doctor came in to his hospital room where Dad, Scott's father, and I sat quietly. We were given the harsh reality of Dad's situation. Dad was given two choices. One was placing a feeding tube, called a PEG tube, in his stomach where he could receive food and medicine by bypassing his throat/esophagus. The other was going home, enjoying eating foods of his choice, creating a high risk of reoccurring pneumonia. The doctor was very clear that in his compromised state, he would eventually not be able to fight the consistent infections. As the doctor left, we all sat in silence, as tears ran down my face. I could tell that the Baptist Rabbi was in deep thought of what to do. One would think that this would be a simple decision. However, there were ramifications with each plan. Those who know me are keenly aware that I am a "OCD Control Freak." I knew the decision that I wanted him to make. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that he taught me to be strong and to fight hard. I needed him to do the same. But I also knew that this was not my decision to make. This was Sam Dean's fight. This was one time that I had to love him enough to support him in whatever decision he wanted to make (although I am sure that I still did some persuasion!). Upon consulting with his GI and neurologist, Dad decided to fight. He decided to go with the feeding tube and participate in swallow therapy in an effort to regain some of his ability to swallow. After a brief scare and ICU stay, Dad went into surgery to get the tube placed in his stomach.

Coming home, we knew that the war was not over. There would be additional battles to face. This past week, we discovered that he is continuing to lose weight. Therefore, he is moving to a 16 hour continuous infusion plan where hopefully his body will absorb more nutrients and gain weight. At his neurologist this week, we discovered that the hospital doctor made a HUGE mistake with his Parkinson's meds. They had to transfer him to a different form of his Senimet that could be put through his tube. However, the doctor had only prescribed him half the dose that he had been taking prior to his hospital stay. Therefore, we saw a significant decline in his symptoms and ability to function since coming home. I will reserve my thoughts and words concerning this doctor for a more appropriate venue!! Thank goodness, our neurologist saw this error and corrected it. It will take a few days to get him back to therapeutic levels, but we are hoping with the correction in the medicine and new infusion plan, we will see brighter days ahead. I am fully convinced that Dad will win this particular battle.

Currently, Dad is participating in OT, PT, and swallow therapy through home health. He is fighting hard to regain his strength and ability to swallow. The mystery remains as to how much of his swallowing he will regain, but we are hopeful that we will see some improvement. 

Dad is not the only one fighting hard. Mom has been such a trooper. I have seen her work harder than ever to take care of him when I can't be there. She has taken her job very seriously and has worked tirelessly to step up and help. I am so proud of her and love her so much. 

Over the past 3 weeks, I have seen the Baptist Rabbi truly practice what he preaches. There is still much to be learned from the Baptist Rabbi, even in his "personal storm." 

• Life throws us curve balls. There are mountains and valleys. However, throughout the valleys, we don't let life "happen to us." We don't sit idle and wait to see what comes to us. We are active participants in life, capable of making decisions. Our choices do have an impact on the ultimate outcome of a situation. His decision to fight will pay off. 
• Prayer works. As my Dad lay unconscious in an ICU bed, we were given word that several congregations were in prayer for him. Not long after church started, my Dad opened his eyes. If you witnessed this happen, you can't deny that prayer played a part. We thank you for your prayers.
• Humor. Even in the midst of tough decisions, pain, and weakness, Dad has kept his humor. The nurses always leave with a smile and all caregivers fall in love with him. In fact, when he woke up for the first time in ICU, he stuck his tongue out at me! :)
• Faith gives you peace. Dad's faith has never wavered through this ordeal. He continues to be faithful to the Lord and seeks to do His will. He remains positive and has mentioned several times over the past few weeks how lucky he has been in his life. His glass is half full, and there is not doubt that faith plays a role in that.

I am so thankful that Sam Dean decided to fight! I am so glad that I see that sparkle in his eye that says, "I've got this!" There have been set backs, but Parkinson's has not ever met a man like my Dad. Through family and friends, we will all hold hands and go into battle together for a man that has taught us, and continues to teach us, so much. Keep that armor up, sweet Popman! You have lots of people praying and supporting you! Love you with all my heart.

The Delicate Balance

Fall is just around the corner. It is one of the best times of the year! Fall is a time where you will find my Dad doing the things that he enjoys the most: hiking and spending time outdoors. For many years, Dad would spend time with some of his closest friends on hiking trails, spending weekends at cabins in Roane Mountain, and having picnics in Cades Cove. He started a Hiking Club at First Baptist Church where monthly hikes were planned. Dad has hiked Mount LeConte many times in his life. In fact, he hiked the trail only a few days prior to being told he needed emergency triple bypass surgery! The cardiologist simply stated that he had a special angel looking out for him. There is really no medical explanation to why he made it off the mountain with the severe blockages in his heart. Still to this day, a few of his close friends will take him on short hikes. While several of the men have been plagued by health issues, they don't let the love of the outdoors keep them hidden in their homes. There is something about the vast outdoors that paradoxically brings people closer with a bond that is hard to describe.

For those of you who know my father, you are well aware that relationships are very important to him. He spent most of his waking hours ministering to others, laughing with people, crying with hurt ones, and doing acts of kindness to those in need. He also made his family a priority. He loved engaging us in conversation, giving us advice, and supporting us in our endeavors. There has never been a time that I questioned his love for us. Both my mother and he are examples of the unconditional love parents have for their children.

Although the Baptist Rabbi spent a great deal of time developing and maintaining special relationships in his life, he realized the importance of balance. He spent time developing and maintaining a relationship with himself as well. While we are a major component of his life, we have never been the center of his world. Dad has always made sure to maintain his own individuality throughout the twists and turns of life's curves.

There were times that you would find my father walking down Riverbend and Riverside alone. There were times that you would find him in his bedroom or living room meditating in silence. When we would take trips to the beach, you would find him on the balcony reading books. At times, you would see Mom and Dad take trips without Chris and me. When Scott and I began to have children, Mom and Dad would come to the house on a regular basis and tell us to go out on a date without the kids. He always encouraged us to spend planned time devoted to just our relationship outside of our children. For he knew it is very easy to keep the commitment to a relationship at the expense of another. And this includes the relationship to yourself.

There is a time for everything. There is a time to be social in groups. There is a time to be social with individuals. There is a time to focus on work. There is a time to focus on our children. There is a time to focus on our spouse. There is a time to focus on our aging parents. There is a time to focus on personal hobbies and activities that we personally enjoy. There is a time for us to focus on spending time alone with ourselves. The Baptist Rabbi and his wife were excellent examples of the importance of being well rounded. I am thankful that Dad enjoys hiking so much and modeled for me the importance of taking care of the individual as well as others. For we never know what life has in store for us. At some point, one of these aspects is going to be stripped from us in some capacity. When we store all of our efforts in only one area, life can easily fall apart.

Wise financial advisors will tell a client to diversify their funds. It is the safest and wisest thing to do with finances. My Dad would say the same thing about life. Diversify. Take time to develop and maintain relationships with your spouse, children, parents, in-laws, co-workers, neighbors, friends, church family, etc. Take time to find a career that brings happiness and do it to the best of your ability. However, take time to develop yourself. Find something that brings you personal joy. Spend time alone and spend time doing hobbies and activities that bring you personal satisfaction. Fill your personal bucket. By doing this, you will be better equipped to fill other people. Tipping the balance in either direction can take one to dangerous waters. Finding the correct balance will ensure when life falls apart in one area, we can lean on the support of other areas in our life to sustain. After all, when all is said and done, we end up with one constant.......ourselves. It is important to develop the self so when that is all we have left, we find happiness within our own skin.

Creating a Purposeful Circle

Would it surprise you to hear that the Baptist Rabbi and his wife are partiers? Indeed, it is true! The Dean household was always rocking with people. From church members to friends from near and far, there always seemed to be a Baptist style gathering occurring at the pastorium.

I recall going out to eat with a group of people for Sunday lunch. People would come over to the house on Sunday evenings. We met a wide variety of people at restaurants, the neighbor's pool, and at other people's homes. We hosted July 4 celebrations, Memorial Day celebrations, UT ballgame gatherings, Christmas Eve dinners, etc. If it was a special day, you could guarantee that we would be with people. Dad made it a priority to meet once a week with a pastor group where they would connect and refuel sharing stories and laughter. Dad always talked about the importance of these gatherings to his overall emotional health.

Mom and Dad modeled the concept of purposeful circle to me. Dad always has been a firm believer that you become much like who you choose to surround yourself. Mom and Dad knew that they could instill solid beliefs in me as parents, but my circle of friends were bound to have a much larger impact on the choices I made. Often, my parents would encourage me to surround myself with positive people who would lift me up and make me a better person. They encouraged me to purposefully seek out friends who would be a positive influence on me. And I will have to say that I did a better job on some occasions than others in heeding their advice. :)

As adults, it is important that we create our own purposeful circle. We ultimately take on traits of who we devote our time and attention. We all know those people that we are instantly drawn towards.  These people are genuine, they care about us as an individual, and they are filled with positivity. They challenge us to become a better individual. We are lifted up after spending time with them. On the flip side, there are an abundance of negative individuals that we encounter daily. These are the ones who see the glass as always half empty, find something negative to say about everything, and take joy in other's struggles and failures. If the truth be known, we all can sway both ways, given the particular circumstance or day.

Mom and Dad took time to  create a purposeful circle of community. They were well aware that a  positive, purposeful circle is not always easy to find. Over the years, Dad was offered several other church placements. However, he never took the bite. Although he had many reasons for staying in Clinton, I can only imagine that one of the deciding factors was his purposeful circle. When it is found, it is a treasure.

We have great control over creating our purposeful circle. Surrounding ourselves with people who will support us in our personal and professional growth is essential in walking this journey of life. We won't be able to rid ourselves of negative people, but we don't have to devote our time and energy to them. After all, if we do, we will easily get sucked into their behaviors and not even realize that we have taken on their thoughts and traits.

Participating in the purposeful circle is two-fold. We certainly want to seek out relationships that are uplifting, positive, and supportive. Do we choose to engage in nurturing relationships? However, it is equally as important to strive to be a good circle member. Do we purposefully lift people up? Do we see our glass as half full? Do we refuse to give negativity control? Do we believe in personal growth?

If we don't purposefully choose our own circle and strive to be a good circle member, a circle will certainly come find us. However, we won't be guaranteed of its benefits. People never crumble in a day; its a slow fade. Many times, that fade starts with the circle in which we choose. Thanks be to God that we have been given free will to determine our own purposeful circle.