The day was off to an uneventful start. I woke up, ran around the neighborhood for exercise, ate breakfast, drank coffee, showered, dressed, and ushered my two teenagers into the car at 7 a.m. for their 8-minute ride to school. I didn't really have to be at the office until 8:30 a.m., so there was plenty of time to drive to work. The traffic, however, was unusually busy that day, and the city's main thoroughfare was flooded with a sea of red brake lights from the cars in front of me. I strained my neck to discern the situation down the road, and saw that the traffic signal half a mile ahead was blinking red, indicating a malfunction. I tried to look for a detour, but none was available. I glanced to my side, and saw a Los Angeles County Sheriff patrol car also mired in the same traffic.
This was going to take a while.
The half-mile trek to the intersection with the malfunctioned traffic signal took over half an hour, enough time to listen to all the late breaking news on the radio, along with reports on the weather, stock markets, and details on every single professional football and basketball game over the weekend. I did manage to make it to work on time, but barely. It would have been nice if the police officer in the patrol vehicle beside me was out there directing traffic rather than being stuck in it himself.
Traffic signal malfunctions are thankfully quite rare during my daily drives to work, but a single malfunction at the wrong place and wrong time (this one happened to be at a major intersection in front of a high school during rush hour) could spell total chaos. It is easy to complain about getting stuck behind a red light at the intersection under normal traffic conditions, and give little thought to how intricate and vital traffic control is in the city until it fails. In the same way, we also take for granted the intricate order and physical laws of the universe, and occasionally even fantasize of worlds where some of these laws could be tinkered with in time travel machines, anti-gravity footwear and the like. Fortunately, God is sovereign over the universe and all creation. The Bible begins with the declaration that God is responsible for everything that has ever existed:
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Genesis 1:1
Creation responds by declaring God's glory:
The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Psalm 19:1
We can be confident that there will be no "malfunction" in our universe as long as God sustains it. All existence will cease in a moment if He does not.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Tastes of Homeland
"Uh, Glenn, I bet those noodles must be very good. Just look at the line of people over there!"
My friend Willis and I marveled at the crowd in front of the noodle stand as we strolled along a popular shopping area in Taipei, Taiwan. I happened to be in Taipei for a conference, and made it a priority to visit Willis, his wife Jocelyn, and daughter Phoebe on my first day there. Jocelyn and Phoebe were going to meet us later in the evening, and Willis suggested that we first scout out the area for good places to eat. Willis was clearly drawn in by the smell of boiled pig intestines, vinegar, lard-fried shallots and pungent ground white peppercorns that saturated the crowded standing-room only area (i.e., the street - there was no chair in sight). The stuff was not for the faint of stomach, but for someone like me who spent his formative years in Taiwan, this was supposed to be food heaven.
Unfortunately, I was a bit weak in the gut, having recently endured a 15-hour flight from Los Angeles, a midnight hotel check-in and an 8-hour jet lag. Moments later I stood with Willis and his family as they happily slurped down gloppy, heavily seasoned bowls of thin rice noodle soup with pig intestines while I slowly consumed my own bowl of the concoction, trying my best to hide my nausea and bloating. The trip to Taiwan wasn't quite off to a good start.
It took a couple more days before my innards became well adjusted to being in Taiwan, and once that happened I was on a gustatory mission to make up for lost time. I ate everywhere - in food courts underneath train stations and department stores, at roadside stands, and in night markets. I ran two hours every morning to burn off some calories so that I could eat some more. Pig intestines? Bring it on. I was hungering for good old hometown cuisine, and there wasn't a lot of time.
The following Sunday morning I joined Willis, Jocelyn and a few other friends for worship at a local church in Taipei. As the service began, a pastor led us in prayer for the service, the worship leaders, the speaker, the message, and for our hearts to be receptive to God's word. The worship leader and musicians led us in several songs of praise to God. The pastor then led the congregation in responsive reading of the Bible verses for the day, and the senior pastor gave an expository sermon from the book of Hebrews. As I participated in the service, I was awash in joy and gratitude, and a hint of tears appeared in my eyes. The week of eating, running, meeting with friends and relatives, attending the conference, and shopping for friends and family back home left me with little time to spend with God, and by the end of the week I was spiritually parched and starving. For those of us who claim to worship God and call on Jesus as both Lord and Savior, time spent at a worship service should be like having a taste of home cooking, since our citizenship is in heaven. We hunger and thirst for that which only God can satisfy.
As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God. (Psalm 42:1)
After the service, my friends and I met at Willis and Jocelyn's apartment, where we eagerly engulfed a mountain of food purchased from the various street vendors we encountered on the way back from church. The feasting continued.
My friend Willis and I marveled at the crowd in front of the noodle stand as we strolled along a popular shopping area in Taipei, Taiwan. I happened to be in Taipei for a conference, and made it a priority to visit Willis, his wife Jocelyn, and daughter Phoebe on my first day there. Jocelyn and Phoebe were going to meet us later in the evening, and Willis suggested that we first scout out the area for good places to eat. Willis was clearly drawn in by the smell of boiled pig intestines, vinegar, lard-fried shallots and pungent ground white peppercorns that saturated the crowded standing-room only area (i.e., the street - there was no chair in sight). The stuff was not for the faint of stomach, but for someone like me who spent his formative years in Taiwan, this was supposed to be food heaven.
Unfortunately, I was a bit weak in the gut, having recently endured a 15-hour flight from Los Angeles, a midnight hotel check-in and an 8-hour jet lag. Moments later I stood with Willis and his family as they happily slurped down gloppy, heavily seasoned bowls of thin rice noodle soup with pig intestines while I slowly consumed my own bowl of the concoction, trying my best to hide my nausea and bloating. The trip to Taiwan wasn't quite off to a good start.
It took a couple more days before my innards became well adjusted to being in Taiwan, and once that happened I was on a gustatory mission to make up for lost time. I ate everywhere - in food courts underneath train stations and department stores, at roadside stands, and in night markets. I ran two hours every morning to burn off some calories so that I could eat some more. Pig intestines? Bring it on. I was hungering for good old hometown cuisine, and there wasn't a lot of time.
The following Sunday morning I joined Willis, Jocelyn and a few other friends for worship at a local church in Taipei. As the service began, a pastor led us in prayer for the service, the worship leaders, the speaker, the message, and for our hearts to be receptive to God's word. The worship leader and musicians led us in several songs of praise to God. The pastor then led the congregation in responsive reading of the Bible verses for the day, and the senior pastor gave an expository sermon from the book of Hebrews. As I participated in the service, I was awash in joy and gratitude, and a hint of tears appeared in my eyes. The week of eating, running, meeting with friends and relatives, attending the conference, and shopping for friends and family back home left me with little time to spend with God, and by the end of the week I was spiritually parched and starving. For those of us who claim to worship God and call on Jesus as both Lord and Savior, time spent at a worship service should be like having a taste of home cooking, since our citizenship is in heaven. We hunger and thirst for that which only God can satisfy.
As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God. (Psalm 42:1)
After the service, my friends and I met at Willis and Jocelyn's apartment, where we eagerly engulfed a mountain of food purchased from the various street vendors we encountered on the way back from church. The feasting continued.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Opening Cacophony
The banquet hall at the Taipei International Conference Center was nearly full with several hundred delegates who arrived for the opening ceremony of an international medical conference. The official name of the conference was "The 4th World Congress of Pediatric Gastroenterology, Hepatology and Nutrition", but it's unlikely that anyone in attendance could actually remember all that. I milled around stiffly around the food tables, not quite feeling comfortable in my striped dress shirt, tie and brand new slacks that I just bought. I rarely paid as much attention to my clothes unless someone is getting married or buried, but as I scanned the room, I noticed that all the men from the Taiwanese contingent wore dark business suits, and the Taiwanese women also were seriously attired as if they were having job interviews. The Japanese delegates also looked quite sharp, though their business suits showed a bit more variety. Most Europeans and North Americans dressed a bit less formally, and not everyone wore a jacket. The most casual appearing ones were from Latin American nations, with some of the men wearing open collared shirts and blue jeans, while their female delegates were either dressed to party or to go shopping. Only a few came from Africa, but they represented their nations well in ethnic garb. It was quite an inhomogeneous crowd, with all sorts of sizes, faces, personalities, interests, origins, and attire.
And languages.
As I walked around the crowded hall, I heard conversations in Mandarin Chinese, Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Spanish, German, Portuguese, Scandinavian languages, African languages, and a smattering of English with various regional accents representing the United States, United Kingdom, Singapore, New Zealand and Australia. The sights and sounds brought to memory the description of the "great multitude" that the apostle John wrote in the book of Revelation:
After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, (Revelation 7:9)
The opening ceremony started with official words of welcome from the conference organizer, followed by the presidents of each of the participating medical societies. I did my best to demonstrate respect to these prominent leaders in medicine by listening to their carefully chosen words, but I could not help but hear something else...I heard conversations in Mandarin Chinese, Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Spanish, German, Portuguese, and tongues representing all tribes and nations. No one was really listening. The conversations throughout the room would continue until the reception got under way, when mouths would then be used for eating instead.
Clearly, the comparison between the doctors at a banquet hall and "a great multitude...standing before the throne and before the Lamb" turns out to be very poor indeed. How wonderful and contrasting is the sight and sound of that great multitude before the Lamb, for while they are each diverse and unique in innumerable ways, they are yet united in the purpose of giving God all the glory, and cried out to God in "one" voice - intelligible, beautiful, and harmonious.
and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10)
And languages.
As I walked around the crowded hall, I heard conversations in Mandarin Chinese, Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Spanish, German, Portuguese, Scandinavian languages, African languages, and a smattering of English with various regional accents representing the United States, United Kingdom, Singapore, New Zealand and Australia. The sights and sounds brought to memory the description of the "great multitude" that the apostle John wrote in the book of Revelation:
After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, (Revelation 7:9)
The opening ceremony started with official words of welcome from the conference organizer, followed by the presidents of each of the participating medical societies. I did my best to demonstrate respect to these prominent leaders in medicine by listening to their carefully chosen words, but I could not help but hear something else...I heard conversations in Mandarin Chinese, Taiwanese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, Spanish, German, Portuguese, and tongues representing all tribes and nations. No one was really listening. The conversations throughout the room would continue until the reception got under way, when mouths would then be used for eating instead.
Clearly, the comparison between the doctors at a banquet hall and "a great multitude...standing before the throne and before the Lamb" turns out to be very poor indeed. How wonderful and contrasting is the sight and sound of that great multitude before the Lamb, for while they are each diverse and unique in innumerable ways, they are yet united in the purpose of giving God all the glory, and cried out to God in "one" voice - intelligible, beautiful, and harmonious.
and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10)
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Gods Without Godliness
"So, tell me what this Peter Jackson thing is about."
I was trying to start a conversation with my daughter while driving her home from a school event. I knew that she was reading this Rick Riordan novel where the plot involved some teenagers and Greek mythology.
"What?" My daughter seemed totally clueless about where I was heading.
"You know, that novel that recently became a movie, about these kids trying to save the world from these crazy Greek gods, or something like that..."
"Oh, you mean Percy Jackson!" Oops. Peter Jackson is the movie director who did the Lord of the Rings films. I was close.
"Yeah, like, at the beginning of the story, Zeus lost his lightning bolt, and like, he thought that Poseidon stole it from him, because, like, Zeus and Poseidon did not like each other, and, like, like..."
I had been trying to get my daughter to stop saying "like" every time she's trying to tell a story, but it looked like it was like not working.
"So, you're saying that Zeus is a god, but he can't even find his own lightning bolt? Sounds like someone I know who couldn't find her flute yesterday..."
"Dad, stop it! So, anyways, Percy Jackson and these other teenagers were, like, demigods, but they didn't know about it until..."
"Demigods? So you're saying that these Greek gods were having sex with humans and got young ladies pregnant? So these Greek gods can actually lose things, not get along with each other, not know everything, and act like a bunch of dirty old men? The story sounds like a soap opera to me."
My daughter ignored my religious rant, and continued on with how these half-humans ended up being trained at Camp Half-Blood, somewhere in New York, and how the story somehow ended with the lightning bolt eventually being returned back to Zeus. Unfortunately, she, like, lost me pretty quickly, as my mind wandered and wondered about just how human-like these Greek gods are. Am I glad that they're not actually running the universe!
Come to think of it, deities that are conceived by humans throughout history are mostly like these characters who supposedly live on Mount Olympus. They are typically morally deficient, limited in knowledge, limited in power, and/or limited by the dimensions of time and space. Such are the products of human conception. It is therefore of little wonder that our self-existent, all-knowing, all-powerful, omnipresent, eternal, righteous, and good God started the Ten Commandments with the directive,
"You shall have no other gods before me." Exodus 20:3
I was trying to start a conversation with my daughter while driving her home from a school event. I knew that she was reading this Rick Riordan novel where the plot involved some teenagers and Greek mythology.
"What?" My daughter seemed totally clueless about where I was heading.
"You know, that novel that recently became a movie, about these kids trying to save the world from these crazy Greek gods, or something like that..."
"Oh, you mean Percy Jackson!" Oops. Peter Jackson is the movie director who did the Lord of the Rings films. I was close.
"Yeah, like, at the beginning of the story, Zeus lost his lightning bolt, and like, he thought that Poseidon stole it from him, because, like, Zeus and Poseidon did not like each other, and, like, like..."
I had been trying to get my daughter to stop saying "like" every time she's trying to tell a story, but it looked like it was like not working.
"So, you're saying that Zeus is a god, but he can't even find his own lightning bolt? Sounds like someone I know who couldn't find her flute yesterday..."
"Dad, stop it! So, anyways, Percy Jackson and these other teenagers were, like, demigods, but they didn't know about it until..."
"Demigods? So you're saying that these Greek gods were having sex with humans and got young ladies pregnant? So these Greek gods can actually lose things, not get along with each other, not know everything, and act like a bunch of dirty old men? The story sounds like a soap opera to me."
My daughter ignored my religious rant, and continued on with how these half-humans ended up being trained at Camp Half-Blood, somewhere in New York, and how the story somehow ended with the lightning bolt eventually being returned back to Zeus. Unfortunately, she, like, lost me pretty quickly, as my mind wandered and wondered about just how human-like these Greek gods are. Am I glad that they're not actually running the universe!
Come to think of it, deities that are conceived by humans throughout history are mostly like these characters who supposedly live on Mount Olympus. They are typically morally deficient, limited in knowledge, limited in power, and/or limited by the dimensions of time and space. Such are the products of human conception. It is therefore of little wonder that our self-existent, all-knowing, all-powerful, omnipresent, eternal, righteous, and good God started the Ten Commandments with the directive,
"You shall have no other gods before me." Exodus 20:3
Monday, October 1, 2012
A Child's Perspective
Kids say the darndest things. I remember when my son was four years old, he brightly exclaimed one day while playing in the yard,
"Daddy, when I am really old, like when I'm a teenager, I want to...."
Whoa. Hold it right there, buddy. Did he say that teenagers are old? I guess to a child who's barely in preschool, anyone who has been around three or four times as long has to be pretty ancient. This conversation was going to get interesting.
"So, you think that teenagers are really old, huh?"
"Yes."
"So, how old do you think teenagers are?"
"Five."
Well, this new math was getting pretty complicated. To my four year old son, teenagers are old, and teenagers are five years old. It was too profound for adults to understand. I suspected that this had something to do with his learning at the Montessori preschool, because my son was inexplicably speaking with a Sri Lankan accent. His preschool teachers were from Sri Lanka. I had to pursue this just a little further.
"Do you think that Daddy is old too?"
"Yes."
"Even older than a teenager?"
"Yes. You're really, really old."
"How old do you think Daddy is?"
"Six."
Somehow I knew he was going to say that. I couldn't resist asking him one more question...
"How old do you think Mommy is?"
"[bleep]"
Unfortunately, I can't quote what he said without my wife's permission. Suffice to say that he knew how to recite a few numbers in ascending order.
It turned out that my son was not the only child with such a contracted perspective on time. I asked another four-year-old girl a similar question, and she thought that her mother was five.
As created, finite beings, our perspective is also limited when we ponder things that are beyond our earthly experience. When we consider our infinite God's character and promises, it is impossible for us to fully understand the enormity of scale compared to what we can see, hear, feel and think. When God promised Abraham, then childless, that he would be the father of many nations, He likened the number of his descendants to the stars in the sky or the sands on the seashore, if he could count them. Abraham believed, but did he truly appreciate the magnitude of the promise?
Likewise, when describing God's character, the psalmist wrote,
Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
your judgments are like the great deep;
man and beast you save, O LORD.
(Psalm 36:5-6)
The highest heavens, the tallest clouds, the mightiest mountains and the deepest oceans are not sufficient to characterize our infinite God. Our best efforts to picture Him are not much less contracted in perspective than those of a four year old child. May we glorify God by truly being in awe of Him.
"Daddy, when I am really old, like when I'm a teenager, I want to...."
Whoa. Hold it right there, buddy. Did he say that teenagers are old? I guess to a child who's barely in preschool, anyone who has been around three or four times as long has to be pretty ancient. This conversation was going to get interesting.
"So, you think that teenagers are really old, huh?"
"Yes."
"So, how old do you think teenagers are?"
"Five."
Well, this new math was getting pretty complicated. To my four year old son, teenagers are old, and teenagers are five years old. It was too profound for adults to understand. I suspected that this had something to do with his learning at the Montessori preschool, because my son was inexplicably speaking with a Sri Lankan accent. His preschool teachers were from Sri Lanka. I had to pursue this just a little further.
"Do you think that Daddy is old too?"
"Yes."
"Even older than a teenager?"
"Yes. You're really, really old."
"How old do you think Daddy is?"
"Six."
Somehow I knew he was going to say that. I couldn't resist asking him one more question...
"How old do you think Mommy is?"
"[bleep]"
Unfortunately, I can't quote what he said without my wife's permission. Suffice to say that he knew how to recite a few numbers in ascending order.
It turned out that my son was not the only child with such a contracted perspective on time. I asked another four-year-old girl a similar question, and she thought that her mother was five.
As created, finite beings, our perspective is also limited when we ponder things that are beyond our earthly experience. When we consider our infinite God's character and promises, it is impossible for us to fully understand the enormity of scale compared to what we can see, hear, feel and think. When God promised Abraham, then childless, that he would be the father of many nations, He likened the number of his descendants to the stars in the sky or the sands on the seashore, if he could count them. Abraham believed, but did he truly appreciate the magnitude of the promise?
Likewise, when describing God's character, the psalmist wrote,
Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
your judgments are like the great deep;
man and beast you save, O LORD.
(Psalm 36:5-6)
The highest heavens, the tallest clouds, the mightiest mountains and the deepest oceans are not sufficient to characterize our infinite God. Our best efforts to picture Him are not much less contracted in perspective than those of a four year old child. May we glorify God by truly being in awe of Him.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Foreign Objects
Beep...beep...beep....
I sleepily rubbed my eyes, being rudely awakened by my pager's shrill tones. It was about 2:15 a.m., and prospects of a good night's rest was effectively ruined for the night. I managed to stumble out of bed without waking my wife, groped for my pager, and checked the message. It was the emergency room. As I picked up my phone, I made a quick mental list of why the ER would call a pediatric gastroenterologist at such an hour - maybe it was a child who was vomiting blood, or a teenage girl with a bad stomachache who refused to leave the emergency room without seeing a specialist (oh please, not that!), or...
"Hi, are you peds GI on call? This is Dr. Lee from the emergency department. We have a 15 month old girl who was found by her parents at home choking on something about an hour ago, and they thought she might have swallowed a coin or something like that. The kid's doing fine now, but we did chest and abdominal X-rays on her, and it looks like there's a coin stuck in the esophagus. It's about 2.4 centimeters in diameter, and it's about a couple of centimeters above the diaphragm...."
Translation - toddler was crawling around...toddler saw loose change on the carpet...toddler picked up shiny quarter...toddler played with shiny quarter...toddler put shiny quarter in mouth...toddler choked on shiny quarter...toddler swallowed shiny quarter...quarter got stuck in no-man's land in the esophagus, too big to fall into the stomach, but too far down the esophagus to vomit it back up. It's a fairly common scenario that I get called about a few times a month. The swallowed foreign objects (that's medical-speak for stuff that normally don't belong inside our bodies) may be different, but the stories tend to be similar. Besides quarters, I've removed pennies, dimes, nickels, various foreign currency (mostly Canadian and Mexican), marbles, hair clips, bobby pins, broken pieces of dental retainers, magnets, and a few batteries (getting a slippery AAA alkaline battery out of a 2 year old boy's stomach was particularly memorable).
I instructed Dr. Lee at the emergency room to have the child hospitalized, and later during the day I made arrangements for the coin to be removed endoscopically under anesthesia. The quarter, no longer shiny, was eventually returned to the anxious parents in a small specimen jar. Hopefully it wouldn't end up in the kid's mouth again.
After years of picking shiny foreign bodies out of kids' innards, I have developed the habit of always warning parents and caretakers of young children about the little ones' propensity to find things on the floor and put them in their little mouths. Like most doctors, I assume that it is the adults' responsibility to make sure that their children don't sit around with a pocketful of loose change on the floor, and any suspicion of their failure to keep an eye on the kids would often result in prompt messages to the hospital social worker to investigate for possible child neglect. It is a toddler's nature to put little shiny things into his or her mouth, and disaster can easily result if such a nature is allowed to run its course unchecked.
Just as toddlers are prone to place themselves in potential harm, we humans in our natural state tend to take actions that lead to death and destruction. We were created to worship God and for His glory; however, the indictment on our sinful nature is:
For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, (Romans 1:21-22)
As a result, God allowed sinful mankind to succumb to its own nature:
Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen. (Romans 1:24-25)
In the end, such actions result in inevitable destruction:
Though they know God's righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. (Romans 1:32)
May we perish the thought of rejecting God to do our own thing, because if God allows us to do so, it would be the most unthinkable punishment.
I sleepily rubbed my eyes, being rudely awakened by my pager's shrill tones. It was about 2:15 a.m., and prospects of a good night's rest was effectively ruined for the night. I managed to stumble out of bed without waking my wife, groped for my pager, and checked the message. It was the emergency room. As I picked up my phone, I made a quick mental list of why the ER would call a pediatric gastroenterologist at such an hour - maybe it was a child who was vomiting blood, or a teenage girl with a bad stomachache who refused to leave the emergency room without seeing a specialist (oh please, not that!), or...
"Hi, are you peds GI on call? This is Dr. Lee from the emergency department. We have a 15 month old girl who was found by her parents at home choking on something about an hour ago, and they thought she might have swallowed a coin or something like that. The kid's doing fine now, but we did chest and abdominal X-rays on her, and it looks like there's a coin stuck in the esophagus. It's about 2.4 centimeters in diameter, and it's about a couple of centimeters above the diaphragm...."
Translation - toddler was crawling around...toddler saw loose change on the carpet...toddler picked up shiny quarter...toddler played with shiny quarter...toddler put shiny quarter in mouth...toddler choked on shiny quarter...toddler swallowed shiny quarter...quarter got stuck in no-man's land in the esophagus, too big to fall into the stomach, but too far down the esophagus to vomit it back up. It's a fairly common scenario that I get called about a few times a month. The swallowed foreign objects (that's medical-speak for stuff that normally don't belong inside our bodies) may be different, but the stories tend to be similar. Besides quarters, I've removed pennies, dimes, nickels, various foreign currency (mostly Canadian and Mexican), marbles, hair clips, bobby pins, broken pieces of dental retainers, magnets, and a few batteries (getting a slippery AAA alkaline battery out of a 2 year old boy's stomach was particularly memorable).
I instructed Dr. Lee at the emergency room to have the child hospitalized, and later during the day I made arrangements for the coin to be removed endoscopically under anesthesia. The quarter, no longer shiny, was eventually returned to the anxious parents in a small specimen jar. Hopefully it wouldn't end up in the kid's mouth again.
After years of picking shiny foreign bodies out of kids' innards, I have developed the habit of always warning parents and caretakers of young children about the little ones' propensity to find things on the floor and put them in their little mouths. Like most doctors, I assume that it is the adults' responsibility to make sure that their children don't sit around with a pocketful of loose change on the floor, and any suspicion of their failure to keep an eye on the kids would often result in prompt messages to the hospital social worker to investigate for possible child neglect. It is a toddler's nature to put little shiny things into his or her mouth, and disaster can easily result if such a nature is allowed to run its course unchecked.
Just as toddlers are prone to place themselves in potential harm, we humans in our natural state tend to take actions that lead to death and destruction. We were created to worship God and for His glory; however, the indictment on our sinful nature is:
For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, (Romans 1:21-22)
As a result, God allowed sinful mankind to succumb to its own nature:
Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen. (Romans 1:24-25)
In the end, such actions result in inevitable destruction:
Though they know God's righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. (Romans 1:32)
May we perish the thought of rejecting God to do our own thing, because if God allows us to do so, it would be the most unthinkable punishment.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Fleeing From Sweetness
"Linda, tell me what you usually like to drink. You know, like soda, tea, coffee, juice, milk, sports drinks...stuff like that."
Linda was an obese teenager who was recently diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and a liver problem, and was seriously in need of losing weight. I asked the question to look for possible ways that she could improve her health.
"Well, I drink a lot of water..."
Linda spoke slowly and carefully, as if she was trying to give the "correct" answer. Her mother, who sat at her side, offered a more realistic assessment, and explained that Linda drank a lot of soda, as well as high-calorie, sugary blended coffee drinks (with extra whipped cream, of course), large cans of sweetened iced tea, and juice. I also discovered later that Linda ate a lot of snack chips while watching television, refused to eat vegetables, and consumed at least 2-3 times the normal portions of rice or tortillas during meals. She also detested exercise or anything that would cause her to break a sweat.
"Thank you, Linda for all this information. You know, I asked you all these questions to see what we can work on to help you lose some weight, and I think that cutting out sweet beverages from your diet will be a very good idea. You see, anytime you drink a can of soda, a glass of juice, a can or glass of iced tea with sugar, etc., you are taking in between 100 to 150 calories, and each time you do this, you literally have to walk about one mile just to burn off the extra sugar that you drank. So, if you just drink water instead, it's like you're walking extra miles every day. If you cut back by only one of those drinks a day, it will make a weight difference of about one pound a month, as long as you don't try to make up the difference by eating more the rest of the day."
That was my standard advice about soft drinks, calories and exercise. I call it "energy currency conversion". One can of soda a day equals one extra pound of body fat a month, and one needs to run one mile to burn off the sugar in one can of soda. It sounds simple enough for most of my patients and families to understand.
"What about diet sodas?" Linda asked nervously.
"Well, diet sodas are not as bad as regular sodas, in that they have almost no calorie. However, the problem with diet or low-calorie soft drinks is that they are as sweet as the sugar-containing stuff, so when you drink them, even though you are not taking in more sugar, you still crave sugar, so when the opportunity arises you will still go for the sugar whenever you can. Because of this, it's much better to just drink water and other unsweetened beverage whenever possible. I personally drink a lot of coffee and tea all day, but I usually don't put any sugar or other sweetener in them, and I don't feel the craving to do so."
Makes sense. A person who imbibes soft drinks with sugar substitutes to lose weight is sort of like a sex addict trying to overcome his perversion by watching pornography. It may not be the real thing, but rather than helping one to get the problem out of his system, it entices him closer to the real deal.
Linda would be much more likely to keep eating and drinking sweet stuff if she craves sweet stuff. Similarly, one is more likely to commit acts of sin or disobedience if the enticement of desire is planted in the mind.
But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death. (James 1:14-15)
It is better to separate oneself from the cravings. Don't compromise with them. Don't fight them. Run from them.
So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. (2 Timothy 2:22-23)
Linda was an obese teenager who was recently diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and a liver problem, and was seriously in need of losing weight. I asked the question to look for possible ways that she could improve her health.
"Well, I drink a lot of water..."
Linda spoke slowly and carefully, as if she was trying to give the "correct" answer. Her mother, who sat at her side, offered a more realistic assessment, and explained that Linda drank a lot of soda, as well as high-calorie, sugary blended coffee drinks (with extra whipped cream, of course), large cans of sweetened iced tea, and juice. I also discovered later that Linda ate a lot of snack chips while watching television, refused to eat vegetables, and consumed at least 2-3 times the normal portions of rice or tortillas during meals. She also detested exercise or anything that would cause her to break a sweat.
"Thank you, Linda for all this information. You know, I asked you all these questions to see what we can work on to help you lose some weight, and I think that cutting out sweet beverages from your diet will be a very good idea. You see, anytime you drink a can of soda, a glass of juice, a can or glass of iced tea with sugar, etc., you are taking in between 100 to 150 calories, and each time you do this, you literally have to walk about one mile just to burn off the extra sugar that you drank. So, if you just drink water instead, it's like you're walking extra miles every day. If you cut back by only one of those drinks a day, it will make a weight difference of about one pound a month, as long as you don't try to make up the difference by eating more the rest of the day."
That was my standard advice about soft drinks, calories and exercise. I call it "energy currency conversion". One can of soda a day equals one extra pound of body fat a month, and one needs to run one mile to burn off the sugar in one can of soda. It sounds simple enough for most of my patients and families to understand.
"What about diet sodas?" Linda asked nervously.
"Well, diet sodas are not as bad as regular sodas, in that they have almost no calorie. However, the problem with diet or low-calorie soft drinks is that they are as sweet as the sugar-containing stuff, so when you drink them, even though you are not taking in more sugar, you still crave sugar, so when the opportunity arises you will still go for the sugar whenever you can. Because of this, it's much better to just drink water and other unsweetened beverage whenever possible. I personally drink a lot of coffee and tea all day, but I usually don't put any sugar or other sweetener in them, and I don't feel the craving to do so."
Makes sense. A person who imbibes soft drinks with sugar substitutes to lose weight is sort of like a sex addict trying to overcome his perversion by watching pornography. It may not be the real thing, but rather than helping one to get the problem out of his system, it entices him closer to the real deal.
Linda would be much more likely to keep eating and drinking sweet stuff if she craves sweet stuff. Similarly, one is more likely to commit acts of sin or disobedience if the enticement of desire is planted in the mind.
But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death. (James 1:14-15)
It is better to separate oneself from the cravings. Don't compromise with them. Don't fight them. Run from them.
So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. (2 Timothy 2:22-23)
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Traffic Control
I never knew that watching cars entering a parking lot could be so entertaining. There was nothing noteworthy at first glance that morning, as a crisply uniformed man directed very light traffic at the portal to a parking structure and adjacent open lots. However, as I observed from my own vehicle, I noticed that the man was not having much success in his traffic-directing endeavor. As a car approached the parking entry, he gently waved his lighted baton toward the open lot to the right, inviting the driver to steer in that direction. The driver paused the car momentarily, seeming to be considering her options.
She let go of the brakes, and turned left instead.
Ah, a rebel, I thought. I guess she had little regard for the man's directions. Appearing flustered, this uniformed man faced the next approaching vehicle, and pointed his baton to the lot on the left. His baton motion seemed tentative, and his arms showed little range of motion as he meekly smiled at the driver.
The driver turned to the right.
I was next in line as I drove toward this hapless uniformed security guard, smiled, and exchanged greetings with him. I wasn't sure whether he actually pointed me in any particular direction as I drove up the ramp to the parking structure.
I witnessed a different kind of parking lot drama in the spring of 2007. I was a direction-challenged traveler who was trying to find the registration and expo for the Boston Marathon, and somehow walked the wrong way and ended up near Fenway Park, just minutes before a sold-out Red Sox vs Angels game. The right-side lane of the street was lined bumper-to-bumper with cars heading toward the stadium parking lot as a uniformed person directed traffic. Receiving cue from the traffic signal, the uniformed man stretched out his hand, blew his whistle, and motioned the driver in the car beside him to stop.
The car kept moving, and the driver seemed to not notice the uniformed man.
The car moved no more than two or three yards before the man sharply blew his whistle again, pointed at the driver, chased down the car, bellowed out angry words that are not fit for print, and ordered that the car be pulled over. The poor woman in the car had no choice but to comply, and parked behind a line of other vehicles that were similarly detained. Another uniformed person stood guard, standing beside a patrol vehicle with flashing lights.
Lesson for the day - you don't mess with the Boston Police Department if you're planning to watch a Red Sox game. Police officers are not private security guards. They have real authority, and they act with authority.
However, despite their formidable powers, police officers have only limited powers compared to Jesus, when he appeared on earth in human form. When he spoke the Sermon on the Mount, the people took notice:
And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes. (Matthew 7:28-29)
Jesus' authority was not only affirmed by men, but also by the forces of nature when he calmed the storm that raged over the Sea of Galilee:
He said to them, “Where is your faith?” And they were afraid, and they marveled, saying to one another, “Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?” (Luke 8:25)
Indeed, Jesus declared to his disciples after his resurrection that he holds authority over all the universe, and that believers are being sent under his authority:
"And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20)
May we therefore be more than just polite, hapless Christians. Jesus has sent us by his ultimate authority to change the world.
She let go of the brakes, and turned left instead.
Ah, a rebel, I thought. I guess she had little regard for the man's directions. Appearing flustered, this uniformed man faced the next approaching vehicle, and pointed his baton to the lot on the left. His baton motion seemed tentative, and his arms showed little range of motion as he meekly smiled at the driver.
The driver turned to the right.
I was next in line as I drove toward this hapless uniformed security guard, smiled, and exchanged greetings with him. I wasn't sure whether he actually pointed me in any particular direction as I drove up the ramp to the parking structure.
I witnessed a different kind of parking lot drama in the spring of 2007. I was a direction-challenged traveler who was trying to find the registration and expo for the Boston Marathon, and somehow walked the wrong way and ended up near Fenway Park, just minutes before a sold-out Red Sox vs Angels game. The right-side lane of the street was lined bumper-to-bumper with cars heading toward the stadium parking lot as a uniformed person directed traffic. Receiving cue from the traffic signal, the uniformed man stretched out his hand, blew his whistle, and motioned the driver in the car beside him to stop.
The car kept moving, and the driver seemed to not notice the uniformed man.
The car moved no more than two or three yards before the man sharply blew his whistle again, pointed at the driver, chased down the car, bellowed out angry words that are not fit for print, and ordered that the car be pulled over. The poor woman in the car had no choice but to comply, and parked behind a line of other vehicles that were similarly detained. Another uniformed person stood guard, standing beside a patrol vehicle with flashing lights.
Lesson for the day - you don't mess with the Boston Police Department if you're planning to watch a Red Sox game. Police officers are not private security guards. They have real authority, and they act with authority.
However, despite their formidable powers, police officers have only limited powers compared to Jesus, when he appeared on earth in human form. When he spoke the Sermon on the Mount, the people took notice:
And when Jesus finished these sayings, the crowds were astonished at his teaching, for he was teaching them as one who had authority, and not as their scribes. (Matthew 7:28-29)
Jesus' authority was not only affirmed by men, but also by the forces of nature when he calmed the storm that raged over the Sea of Galilee:
He said to them, “Where is your faith?” And they were afraid, and they marveled, saying to one another, “Who then is this, that he commands even winds and water, and they obey him?” (Luke 8:25)
Indeed, Jesus declared to his disciples after his resurrection that he holds authority over all the universe, and that believers are being sent under his authority:
"And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20)
May we therefore be more than just polite, hapless Christians. Jesus has sent us by his ultimate authority to change the world.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
A Bronchoscope, a Cotton Swab and a "Shamu" Needle
"Doctor, we have a problem."
Those were words from my nurse while I was fully gowned, masked, gloved and ready to start the procedure on the sedated infant. The premature baby was unable to feed by mouth due to multiple medical concerns, and needed to have a feeding tube placed through the abdominal wall into the stomach. Unfortunately, the most important piece of equipment for the procedure, a neonatal gastroscope, somehow became malfunctioned at the last moment, and a replacement scope was not available. The only gastroscopes that we had were too large to go through the baby's throat without potentially causing damage and/or interfering with the baby's breathing. It seemed for the moment that I had no choice but to postpone the procedure. Better to play it safe than risk a serious complication, I thought. However, my nurse wasn't quite ready to quit, and she asked whether I might consider using a bronchoscope instead. A bronchoscope is designed to go down into the lungs, and is much smaller than the neonatal gastroscope that is used to go down the baby's stomach. However, because of its small size, it does not have some of the features of gastroscopes, and would require some creative manipulation to be used properly in the stomach. The idea seemed a bit unorthodox, but workable, so I agreed to give it a try. The procedure was successfully completed after several minutes as the bronchoscope was put to good use. The baby did well.
I received an urgent message from the father of another baby who also required tube feedings. It was about 4:30 p.m. on Friday. He frantically explained that the tube somehow got plugged up, and that the baby could not be fed. The father was ready to bring the child to the emergency room, as the clinic was already closed for the week. After considering various options, I asked him to find a single tipped cotton swab (or to cut a double-tipped swab in half), and to insert about an inch of the stick into the tube to try and unplug the tube. The father managed to pull off the trick within a couple of minutes, and thanked me for sparing him the trip to the emergency room.
Sometimes the technical difficulty in placing a stomach feeding tube is not because a child is too small, but too big. I once tried to place such a tube in a morbidly obese teenage boy who had a brain tumor, and discovered that the special needle for the procedure was too short to puncture the stomach through all of his belly fat. Hearing my dilemma, the nurse anesthetist offered me the "Shamu" (i.e., referring to the killer whale at San Diego's Sea World) needle, and handed me an extra long spinal needle that she uses to perform epidural anesthesia for obese women. The needle reached the stomach easily, and the tube was successfully placed without further difficulty.
A bronchoscope, a cotton swab, and an extra-long spinal needle each serves very specific and essential functions, just as in the body of Christ, each believer has unique sets of gifts and abilities that God has given us to serve and build up each other. Knowing our gifts and abilities will certainly help us to serve more effectively; however, we also must not refuse to let God use us in more "creative" ways within the body, and we need to be available to be used by Him when called upon to do so. God can and will use us in any way that He pleases.
But now, O LORD, you are our Father;
we are the clay, you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand. (Isaiah 64:8)
As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace:
(1 Peter 4:10)
Those were words from my nurse while I was fully gowned, masked, gloved and ready to start the procedure on the sedated infant. The premature baby was unable to feed by mouth due to multiple medical concerns, and needed to have a feeding tube placed through the abdominal wall into the stomach. Unfortunately, the most important piece of equipment for the procedure, a neonatal gastroscope, somehow became malfunctioned at the last moment, and a replacement scope was not available. The only gastroscopes that we had were too large to go through the baby's throat without potentially causing damage and/or interfering with the baby's breathing. It seemed for the moment that I had no choice but to postpone the procedure. Better to play it safe than risk a serious complication, I thought. However, my nurse wasn't quite ready to quit, and she asked whether I might consider using a bronchoscope instead. A bronchoscope is designed to go down into the lungs, and is much smaller than the neonatal gastroscope that is used to go down the baby's stomach. However, because of its small size, it does not have some of the features of gastroscopes, and would require some creative manipulation to be used properly in the stomach. The idea seemed a bit unorthodox, but workable, so I agreed to give it a try. The procedure was successfully completed after several minutes as the bronchoscope was put to good use. The baby did well.
I received an urgent message from the father of another baby who also required tube feedings. It was about 4:30 p.m. on Friday. He frantically explained that the tube somehow got plugged up, and that the baby could not be fed. The father was ready to bring the child to the emergency room, as the clinic was already closed for the week. After considering various options, I asked him to find a single tipped cotton swab (or to cut a double-tipped swab in half), and to insert about an inch of the stick into the tube to try and unplug the tube. The father managed to pull off the trick within a couple of minutes, and thanked me for sparing him the trip to the emergency room.
Sometimes the technical difficulty in placing a stomach feeding tube is not because a child is too small, but too big. I once tried to place such a tube in a morbidly obese teenage boy who had a brain tumor, and discovered that the special needle for the procedure was too short to puncture the stomach through all of his belly fat. Hearing my dilemma, the nurse anesthetist offered me the "Shamu" (i.e., referring to the killer whale at San Diego's Sea World) needle, and handed me an extra long spinal needle that she uses to perform epidural anesthesia for obese women. The needle reached the stomach easily, and the tube was successfully placed without further difficulty.
A bronchoscope, a cotton swab, and an extra-long spinal needle each serves very specific and essential functions, just as in the body of Christ, each believer has unique sets of gifts and abilities that God has given us to serve and build up each other. Knowing our gifts and abilities will certainly help us to serve more effectively; however, we also must not refuse to let God use us in more "creative" ways within the body, and we need to be available to be used by Him when called upon to do so. God can and will use us in any way that He pleases.
But now, O LORD, you are our Father;
we are the clay, you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand. (Isaiah 64:8)
As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace:
(1 Peter 4:10)
Monday, June 11, 2012
What Would Warren Do?
Mr. Warren Buffet is a rock star in the investment world. He is well-known for his time-tested investment practices, and his company, Berkshire Hathaway Inc., is one of the most consistently profitable worldwide. A single share of Berkshire Hathaway common stock (A-share), which was sold for less than $10,000 in the early 1990's, is currently worth more than $120,000. Nearly every major investment decision that he makes is immediately broadcast worldwide in minutes, if not seconds. When Warren Buffet speaks, people listen. He is known as the "Oracle of Omaha", and writings about him, his investment methods, and his words of wisdom abound in books, magazines, newspapers, and on the Internet.
I am not Warren Buffet. I have neither Mr. Buffet's financial insight, nor monetary wisdom, and I have made poor investment decisions that he likely would not make under similar circumstances. It therefore stands to reason to believe that I will be a better steward of God's material resources if I try to think like Mr. Buffet when I make major financial decisions. Would Mr. Buffet buy or sell? Would he build cash reserves or purchase investment property? Would he leave his estate to his offspring or donate it to charity? Would he buy gold, stock, or bonds? Would he collect art or antique cars? WWWD (What would Warren do)?
Unfortunately, I can ask all the WWWD questions, and never arrive at a proper answer. The problem is that while I have heard about Mr. Buffet, occasionally read about Mr. Buffet, and even own an infinitesimal fraction of his company in the form of Berkshire Hathaway B share common stocks, I have never actually read any book about him or by him, have never listened to his speeches or interviews, and have never studied his company's financial statements. WWWD? I have not the faintest idea.
While "WWWD?" has not yet become a popular expression, "WWJD?", or "What would Jesus do?" has become a fashionable statement among Christians. Someone just cut me off on the road - WWJD? A friend owes me money but will not repay me - WWJD? I need to buy a car...new or used - WWJD? "WWJD?" became a fad expression on posters, billboards, bracelets and bumper stickers. It sounds cool, as if you say it often enough, it makes you seem to know Jesus.
Sadly, just as I do not know much about Mr. Warren Buffet, many who glibly ask "WWJD?" do not truly know Jesus. They may know something about Jesus, and have seen drawings of a gentle Jesus holding a young child, healing the sick, and speaking to gatherings of thousands by the sea or the hillside words of wisdom about doing good deeds and being kind. However, do they remember that Jesus is God, who willingly became man and suffered utter humiliation and death for our sins, who rose from the dead and is in the place of highest glory? For it was written about Jesus,
"who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:6-11)
When we ask "WWJD?", do we know the Jesus in the book of Revelation, who not only encouraged, but also corrected and rebuked the seven churches?
When we ask "WWJD?", do we realize that Jesus' twelve disciples, after spending considerable numbers of days and nights with him, still knew little about him when he calmed the storm? For it was written:
And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” (Matthew 8:27)
Do we know the full picture of Jesus that is in the Bible? Many who claim to be Christians have never read much of the Bible, and the Jesus in their minds is only the Jesus of their imaginations. Before we ask "WWJD?", we need to make sure that we do not violate the first commandment,
“You shall have no other gods before me. (Exodus 20:3)
Hmm, I wonder if Warren Buffet would put money on this pizza franchise....
I am not Warren Buffet. I have neither Mr. Buffet's financial insight, nor monetary wisdom, and I have made poor investment decisions that he likely would not make under similar circumstances. It therefore stands to reason to believe that I will be a better steward of God's material resources if I try to think like Mr. Buffet when I make major financial decisions. Would Mr. Buffet buy or sell? Would he build cash reserves or purchase investment property? Would he leave his estate to his offspring or donate it to charity? Would he buy gold, stock, or bonds? Would he collect art or antique cars? WWWD (What would Warren do)?
Unfortunately, I can ask all the WWWD questions, and never arrive at a proper answer. The problem is that while I have heard about Mr. Buffet, occasionally read about Mr. Buffet, and even own an infinitesimal fraction of his company in the form of Berkshire Hathaway B share common stocks, I have never actually read any book about him or by him, have never listened to his speeches or interviews, and have never studied his company's financial statements. WWWD? I have not the faintest idea.
While "WWWD?" has not yet become a popular expression, "WWJD?", or "What would Jesus do?" has become a fashionable statement among Christians. Someone just cut me off on the road - WWJD? A friend owes me money but will not repay me - WWJD? I need to buy a car...new or used - WWJD? "WWJD?" became a fad expression on posters, billboards, bracelets and bumper stickers. It sounds cool, as if you say it often enough, it makes you seem to know Jesus.
Sadly, just as I do not know much about Mr. Warren Buffet, many who glibly ask "WWJD?" do not truly know Jesus. They may know something about Jesus, and have seen drawings of a gentle Jesus holding a young child, healing the sick, and speaking to gatherings of thousands by the sea or the hillside words of wisdom about doing good deeds and being kind. However, do they remember that Jesus is God, who willingly became man and suffered utter humiliation and death for our sins, who rose from the dead and is in the place of highest glory? For it was written about Jesus,
"who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:6-11)
When we ask "WWJD?", do we know the Jesus in the book of Revelation, who not only encouraged, but also corrected and rebuked the seven churches?
When we ask "WWJD?", do we realize that Jesus' twelve disciples, after spending considerable numbers of days and nights with him, still knew little about him when he calmed the storm? For it was written:
And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?” (Matthew 8:27)
Do we know the full picture of Jesus that is in the Bible? Many who claim to be Christians have never read much of the Bible, and the Jesus in their minds is only the Jesus of their imaginations. Before we ask "WWJD?", we need to make sure that we do not violate the first commandment,
“You shall have no other gods before me. (Exodus 20:3)
Hmm, I wonder if Warren Buffet would put money on this pizza franchise....
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Resuscitation
"You may go ahead and push the fentanyl. Slowly, please."
I instructed the nurse at the neonatal intensive care unit to start administering the sedation medication to the baby as I started to arrange the sterile medical supplies and equipment for the procedure. The patient was an infant girl with serious neurological deficits who needed supplemental tube feedings for nutritional support, and her attending neonatologist asked me to place in her a special feeding tube through the abdominal wall into the stomach. It is a relatively simple but also painful procedure, and as a rule it is performed under sedation or anesthesia. I have performed many of these procedures in infants without complications, and was optimistic that this one would also go well.
As the nurse started to give the medication intravenously, I spoke with the doctor and two nurses who were immediately assisting me, and reminded them that the first two minutes of the procedure, during which an endoscope (a small, thin, flexible tube with a camera) is inserted into the stomach, could be the most critical, and dangerous. I explained that the sedated baby could potentially stop breathing as a reaction to the scope, and that it might be necessary to temporarily interrupt the procedure to resuscitate the baby by giving her supplemental oxygen. I also reassured the team that nearly all my patients who previously experienced this temporary interruption was able to have the procedure completed without difficulty. One of my nurses nodded in agreement, as she had previously assisted in the same procedure many times before.
The assisting doctor suddenly directed my attention to the baby's cardiorespiratory monitor, and appeared quite concerned. The baby's oxygen saturation started to drop precipitously because she was not breathing. I asked the nurse to give the baby oxygen by mask. Still no improvement. The baby's oxygen saturation, which normally should be about 100%, now dropped to about 70%. I asked the nurse to start ventilating the baby with the bag-valve-mask assembly and 100% oxygen, while the other doctor repositioned her head to allow air entry into the lungs. I looked at the monitor, and was dismayed to see that there was no evidence of chest movement. We were trying to push air into the baby's lungs, but air was not getting inside her. The oxygen saturation reading now dropped below 60%. She might die soon if things didn't improve quickly.
The baby likely experienced what is known as "rigid chest syndrome", a rare but well-known potential adverse reaction to fentanyl, the sedation medication used for the procedure. A patient with this condition develops severe tightness and spasms of the chest wall muscles that it becomes impossible to breathe, and sometimes the only thing that can be done is to medically induce muscle paralysis so that oxygen from a ventilator can move into the lungs to save the patient. The other doctor and I were seriously considering the possible need for this, when suddenly a couple of faint chest movements were noted on the monitor. I asked the nurse to keep resuscitating the baby, offering reassurance that the baby appeared to be recovering slowly by herself. A few seconds later, the monitor showed that the oxygen saturation started to rise from 57% to 60%, and after a few more ventilation attempts with the bag-valve-mask assembly, oxygen finally started to move freely into the baby's lungs as the chest relaxed and started to rise and fall visibly with each delivered breath of air. Within a couple of minutes, the oxygen saturation appeared stable, and we eventually felt confident enough to actually start and finish the procedure, with no further difficulty. I appeared calm throughout the situation, but emerged from the procedure drenched in sweat, knowing that the baby could have died. Thankfully, the baby did well after the procedure, had no trouble with tube feedings, and was being prepared for hospital discharge within a few days.
The only reason that the baby survived the ordeal was that she, for a lack of better words...stayed alive. It would be impossible to resuscitate a dead person. "Dead" is also the word that describes us before we become Christians:
"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience - among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ - by grace you have been saved." (Ephesians 2:1-5)
Unless God first breathes life into us spiritually and awakens us, we will remain spiritual corpses that will not respond to the most valiant effort by men and women who try to blow the air of the Gospel message into us. May we who believe in Christ thank God for giving us life in the first place!
I instructed the nurse at the neonatal intensive care unit to start administering the sedation medication to the baby as I started to arrange the sterile medical supplies and equipment for the procedure. The patient was an infant girl with serious neurological deficits who needed supplemental tube feedings for nutritional support, and her attending neonatologist asked me to place in her a special feeding tube through the abdominal wall into the stomach. It is a relatively simple but also painful procedure, and as a rule it is performed under sedation or anesthesia. I have performed many of these procedures in infants without complications, and was optimistic that this one would also go well.
As the nurse started to give the medication intravenously, I spoke with the doctor and two nurses who were immediately assisting me, and reminded them that the first two minutes of the procedure, during which an endoscope (a small, thin, flexible tube with a camera) is inserted into the stomach, could be the most critical, and dangerous. I explained that the sedated baby could potentially stop breathing as a reaction to the scope, and that it might be necessary to temporarily interrupt the procedure to resuscitate the baby by giving her supplemental oxygen. I also reassured the team that nearly all my patients who previously experienced this temporary interruption was able to have the procedure completed without difficulty. One of my nurses nodded in agreement, as she had previously assisted in the same procedure many times before.
The assisting doctor suddenly directed my attention to the baby's cardiorespiratory monitor, and appeared quite concerned. The baby's oxygen saturation started to drop precipitously because she was not breathing. I asked the nurse to give the baby oxygen by mask. Still no improvement. The baby's oxygen saturation, which normally should be about 100%, now dropped to about 70%. I asked the nurse to start ventilating the baby with the bag-valve-mask assembly and 100% oxygen, while the other doctor repositioned her head to allow air entry into the lungs. I looked at the monitor, and was dismayed to see that there was no evidence of chest movement. We were trying to push air into the baby's lungs, but air was not getting inside her. The oxygen saturation reading now dropped below 60%. She might die soon if things didn't improve quickly.
The baby likely experienced what is known as "rigid chest syndrome", a rare but well-known potential adverse reaction to fentanyl, the sedation medication used for the procedure. A patient with this condition develops severe tightness and spasms of the chest wall muscles that it becomes impossible to breathe, and sometimes the only thing that can be done is to medically induce muscle paralysis so that oxygen from a ventilator can move into the lungs to save the patient. The other doctor and I were seriously considering the possible need for this, when suddenly a couple of faint chest movements were noted on the monitor. I asked the nurse to keep resuscitating the baby, offering reassurance that the baby appeared to be recovering slowly by herself. A few seconds later, the monitor showed that the oxygen saturation started to rise from 57% to 60%, and after a few more ventilation attempts with the bag-valve-mask assembly, oxygen finally started to move freely into the baby's lungs as the chest relaxed and started to rise and fall visibly with each delivered breath of air. Within a couple of minutes, the oxygen saturation appeared stable, and we eventually felt confident enough to actually start and finish the procedure, with no further difficulty. I appeared calm throughout the situation, but emerged from the procedure drenched in sweat, knowing that the baby could have died. Thankfully, the baby did well after the procedure, had no trouble with tube feedings, and was being prepared for hospital discharge within a few days.
The only reason that the baby survived the ordeal was that she, for a lack of better words...stayed alive. It would be impossible to resuscitate a dead person. "Dead" is also the word that describes us before we become Christians:
"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience - among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ - by grace you have been saved." (Ephesians 2:1-5)
Unless God first breathes life into us spiritually and awakens us, we will remain spiritual corpses that will not respond to the most valiant effort by men and women who try to blow the air of the Gospel message into us. May we who believe in Christ thank God for giving us life in the first place!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Ripening a Buddha Head
Huge, succulent grapes. Asian pears the size of grapefruits. Melons with delicate yet distinctive fragrances wafting in the air. Perfectly ripe papayas with deep orange flesh. Juice oranges with paper-thin rind. Crisp, sweet jujubes the size of hen's eggs. Strange, exotic looking dragonfruit. Wax apples (they're not apples and there's no wax, and I've never seen one in the United States), guava...I was in a fruit-lover's heaven, being virtually paralyzed by the immense choices at a large fruit market in Taiwan. I happened to pass by the market a couple of winters ago while visiting my mother in Taoyuan, Taiwan. Since I do not travel there much, I wanted to buy some of the local offerings that are rare in my present home near Los Angeles, California. I picked several large jujubes, a few wax apples (not too many, as they were kind of expensive), a large dragonfruit, some of the local orange varieties, and a small papaya. I could get more, but the collection was already feeling a bit heavy, and my mother's apartment was at least a ten-minute walk away. It was time to complete the purchase.
As I brought the basket of fruit to the cash register, a cluster of odd looking artichoke-like lumps caught my eye. Known locally as "Buddha head" fruit (or custard apple in English), they are about the size, shape, and color of large green avocados, with hard, coarse, paneled rind that resembles crocodile skin or a pangolin's plated armor. I remembered eating them years ago, and recalled that they were really tasty. I picked one up to inspect it, and was instantly disappointed by its hard texture. They weren't edible.
At least not right away.
The man at the register told me that the Buddha heads were not ripe yet, but they were on sale, and that they would ripen in about two to three days if they were wrapped in newspaper and placed in a warm place, say, near the refrigerator vent or behind the computer monitor. I was a bit skeptical that something as hard as a hand grenade would actually ripen that quickly, but since I was planning to stay a few more days in Taiwan, I took a chance and brought home two of the Buddha heads.
I spent the next couple of days enjoying as much fruit as my intestines would allow, and before long, I was down to the last couple of oranges and wax apples, and the two Buddha heads that I left behind the television. I removed one of the Buddha heads, and was immediately greeted with the intense aroma of ripe fruit. I pushed one of the armor-like plates on the surface, and noted that it collapsed into the body of the fruit with very little pressure. I peeled the loosened plate with the attached fruit, revealing creamy, succulent, sweet flesh. The entire fruit was reduced within minutes to a pile of peel and seed. The second fruit experienced the same fate the next day. They were delicious, just like I remembered.
Like the Buddha head fruits, Christians also need ripening before the fruit of our conversion releases its sweet aroma. Unbelievers tend to accuse Christians of being hypocrites because we often fail to demonstrate the love of Christ, joy, peace, patience, kindness, etc., that the world expects of us. Instead of sweetness and fragrance, we come across as being hard, cold and bitter, because we still struggle with our old, sinful nature. Thankfully, we are promised that if we have been regenerated by the Holy Spirit, we will be ripened into good fruit.
And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)
Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)
May each day in our lives be a day of ripening that leads us to become a sweet aroma before the Lord, in His time.
As I brought the basket of fruit to the cash register, a cluster of odd looking artichoke-like lumps caught my eye. Known locally as "Buddha head" fruit (or custard apple in English), they are about the size, shape, and color of large green avocados, with hard, coarse, paneled rind that resembles crocodile skin or a pangolin's plated armor. I remembered eating them years ago, and recalled that they were really tasty. I picked one up to inspect it, and was instantly disappointed by its hard texture. They weren't edible.
At least not right away.
The man at the register told me that the Buddha heads were not ripe yet, but they were on sale, and that they would ripen in about two to three days if they were wrapped in newspaper and placed in a warm place, say, near the refrigerator vent or behind the computer monitor. I was a bit skeptical that something as hard as a hand grenade would actually ripen that quickly, but since I was planning to stay a few more days in Taiwan, I took a chance and brought home two of the Buddha heads.
I spent the next couple of days enjoying as much fruit as my intestines would allow, and before long, I was down to the last couple of oranges and wax apples, and the two Buddha heads that I left behind the television. I removed one of the Buddha heads, and was immediately greeted with the intense aroma of ripe fruit. I pushed one of the armor-like plates on the surface, and noted that it collapsed into the body of the fruit with very little pressure. I peeled the loosened plate with the attached fruit, revealing creamy, succulent, sweet flesh. The entire fruit was reduced within minutes to a pile of peel and seed. The second fruit experienced the same fate the next day. They were delicious, just like I remembered.
Like the Buddha head fruits, Christians also need ripening before the fruit of our conversion releases its sweet aroma. Unbelievers tend to accuse Christians of being hypocrites because we often fail to demonstrate the love of Christ, joy, peace, patience, kindness, etc., that the world expects of us. Instead of sweetness and fragrance, we come across as being hard, cold and bitter, because we still struggle with our old, sinful nature. Thankfully, we are promised that if we have been regenerated by the Holy Spirit, we will be ripened into good fruit.
And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. (Philippians 1:6)
Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Philippians 2:12-13)
May each day in our lives be a day of ripening that leads us to become a sweet aroma before the Lord, in His time.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Fanatic Runner
There are generally two kinds of rookie marathon runners. Many are of the "one and done" variety - once they cross the finish line (in various states of brain and muscle damage), they happily check "finishing a marathon" off their bucket lists, wear their finisher medals to school and/or work for the next month, and are unlikely to ever tackle the 26.21875 mile (or 42.195 km) distance again without wheels.
I belonged to the other group. After I completed the City of Los Angeles Marathon in 2004, finishing barely upright and a shade under 6 hours, I was bitten by the running bug, and running literally consumed me for the next several years. I went to bed wearing my running clothes. My watch alarm was set at 4:45 a.m. I ran 10 miles, sometimes 12, before work. I ran more than 100 miles a week for several months in a row. I consumed huge amounts of food. I subscribed to Runner's World magazine, and went to the local bookstore to read other running magazines and books that I didn't have. I voraciously searched running-related web sites for tips, charts, and pace calculators. I did tempo runs, progressive runs, quarter-mile repeats, Yasso 800's, medium long runs, recovery runs, and long runs. Some Saturday mornings I would leave my home in Temple City, CA, for runs, and would end up spending over 4 hours leaving 27-mile long trails of footprints in nearby Arcadia, Monrovia, Irwindale, West Covina, Covina, Azusa, Baldwin Park and El Monte. I participated in an online running discussion group. I even joined the group's running mileage game one year...and won. I ran 21 more marathons over 8 years. I have a Boston Marathon finisher's medal somewhere in the bathroom. I read running shoe catalogs in the bathroom.
I was not a casual runner. I was a running fanatic. Life was simple and predictable, as I ate in order to run faster, I drank in order to run farther, and I slept and rested so that my muscles would recover in time for the next day's run. This running thing, I ate it all up.
In the same way, there are two kinds of people who call themselves Christians. Shortly after I received Jesus as my Lord and Savior, my well-meaning parents advised me to not get too crazy with my religion. They didn't mind that I would receive certain benefits from going to church - I would learn how to be a good person, have the "right" kind of friends (and maybe even meeting the right girl), and have something to keep me busy on weekends. They just did not want me to become a religious fanatic.
However, Jesus was not looking for casual, lukewarm Christians. After he declared himself to be the bread of life, it was clear that Jesus was looking for hard-core followers:
"So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me." (John 6:53-57)
Jesus was not looking for casual followers who just wanted a taste of what he had to offer, but those who would eat it all up. Many of Jesus' followers turned back and left. Those who remained were fanatics who eventually turned the word upside down.
Are we all in?
Monday, February 6, 2012
Sealing the Deal
There are certain seasonal rituals in which most American families participate - vacations during the summer, Thanksgiving dinner and holiday shopping during the fall, Christmas and watching the Super Bowl during the winter, and mailing in tax returns during the spring. Taxes! I wouldn't look forward to springtime if it weren't for warmer weather, flowers, and the celebration of Jesus' rising from the dead on Easter Sunday. Paying taxes usually means collecting a folder that bulges with various receipts and tax-related documents, meeting with the accountant, writing a check to the accountant, receiving the prepared tax returns at the last minute, trying to explain to my wife why we pay so much in taxes, and finally mailing the tax returns.
The final moments before I actually mail the returns tend to be painfully tedious. I check the prepared forms, sign and date the forms, enter my Social Security number, and ask my wife to sign and date the forms. I then enter my wife's Social Security number (I have done this so many times that I have memorized her number), pull out the checkbook, fill in the check amounts and double-check for errors (I rarely write such large checks, so it is a big deal), sign the checks, fill in other necessary details on the checks, find the mailing addresses for the returns, make sure that the forms and checks are in the proper envelopes, seal the envelopes, and hand carry the documents to the post office to have them sent by certified mail. It is a meticulous process, and I insist on performing the task in a fixed order.
I did not always attend to such detail during my younger tax-paying years, and occasionally I would discover that either the check or a certain form was left out of the envelope after it was sealed. If I caught my error in time, I would try to unseal the envelope as carefully as possible, and in most cases I would succeed in reopening the envelope without totally destroying it. However, the reopening process would invariably leave small tears and wrinkles in the envelope flap, and it would have to eventually be resealed with additional glue and tape.
Mailing tax forms made me think about sex.
I'm not kidding. When God established the institution of marriage, it was meant to bring a man and a woman to leave their parents and be joined in an irrevocable bond. Sexual relations between the newly formed couple would consummate the marriage, so that they are bound as one and not to be separated in the relationship. Sex is the glue that seals the deal, just as licking the envelope flap and pressing it down seals the envelope. It is not meant to be undone, and attempts to sever the relationship, no matter how carefully, will cause irreparable tears and scars.
Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body. (1 Corinthians 6:18-20)
The apostle Paul did not specify in his letter the definition of "sexual immorality", but it is reasonable to say that any sex that is not between a husband and wife may qualify the definition.
May we heed King Solomon's advice:
I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
by the gazelles or the does of the field,
that you not stir up or awaken love
until it pleases. (Song of Solomon 2:7)
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Barks, Leaves and Fruit
Chuck and I became good friends while we attended medical school in the late 1980's. Chuck had a somewhat distinctive appearance - tall, slender, wearing an easy smile, with brown hair, very light complexion and no freckles. It turned out that he was part Cherokee Indian, and that his father, an aficionado of the great outdoors, taught him much about plant and animal life during his youth while growing up in Ohio. Chuck once told me that his father taught him to recognize a variety of tree species by simply looking at the bark. Needless to say, I was impressed by his professed skills of arbor identification, as I normally would only be able to identify a tree if there was a plaque or sign with the name of the tree species in front of it. However, I eventually managed to improve my tree knowledge over the years, and now I can fairly confidently recognize an oak from a sycamore, or a mesquite from a palo verde. It's not much to brag about, since most Cub Scouts probably can do the same.
On the other hand, I have no trouble identifying citrus plants. Having lived nearly my entire life in Taiwan and Southern California, where warm weather and abundant sunshine provide fabulous citrus growing conditions, it is unusual for me to live for even a day without some citrus exposure. We have navel oranges and lemons in the refrigerator, large, juicy pomelos (massive, grapefruit-like monstrosities with very thick rind) on the kitchen counter, a bag of mandarin oranges in a basket, a grapefruit tree in the backyard that is full of fruit, and a kumquat tree at my mother's house. I can recognize Valencia oranges, Texas oranges, lemons, limes, tangerines, tangelos, and clementines. If you show me a citrus tree, I'll immediately recognize the characteristic shape of the broad, dark green, waxy leaves, and know for certain that it is a citrus tree.
Unfortunately, if the tree is not bearing fruit, I will not be able to tell whether it is a lemon tree, an orange tree, or a grapefruit tree, because their leaves are indistinguishable from one another. It is by the fruit that the tree is recognized.
Just as it is impossible to discern a citrus tree without seeing its fruit, it is difficult to know a person without seeing his works and deeds. A surgeon is good only if he has performed many surgeries successfully, and that his patients are happy with the results. An honest looking person may simply be an expert in deception unless he also acts with integrity, even when it appears that no one is watching. In the same way, one cannot claim to be a "born again" Christian without somehow demonstrating radical changes in thought, words and actions. We may fool others for a season, but our fruit will eventually betray our identity.
“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognize them by their fruits. (Matthew 7:15-20)
You can't judge a fruit tree by its leaves alone.
On the other hand, I have no trouble identifying citrus plants. Having lived nearly my entire life in Taiwan and Southern California, where warm weather and abundant sunshine provide fabulous citrus growing conditions, it is unusual for me to live for even a day without some citrus exposure. We have navel oranges and lemons in the refrigerator, large, juicy pomelos (massive, grapefruit-like monstrosities with very thick rind) on the kitchen counter, a bag of mandarin oranges in a basket, a grapefruit tree in the backyard that is full of fruit, and a kumquat tree at my mother's house. I can recognize Valencia oranges, Texas oranges, lemons, limes, tangerines, tangelos, and clementines. If you show me a citrus tree, I'll immediately recognize the characteristic shape of the broad, dark green, waxy leaves, and know for certain that it is a citrus tree.
Unfortunately, if the tree is not bearing fruit, I will not be able to tell whether it is a lemon tree, an orange tree, or a grapefruit tree, because their leaves are indistinguishable from one another. It is by the fruit that the tree is recognized.
Just as it is impossible to discern a citrus tree without seeing its fruit, it is difficult to know a person without seeing his works and deeds. A surgeon is good only if he has performed many surgeries successfully, and that his patients are happy with the results. An honest looking person may simply be an expert in deception unless he also acts with integrity, even when it appears that no one is watching. In the same way, one cannot claim to be a "born again" Christian without somehow demonstrating radical changes in thought, words and actions. We may fool others for a season, but our fruit will eventually betray our identity.
“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will recognize them by their fruits. (Matthew 7:15-20)
You can't judge a fruit tree by its leaves alone.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Fussing Over A Blemish
Ronnie, a handsome looking eleven-year-old boy, is one of my "special" patients. I have known Ronnie since he was five years old, some time after he developed sudden liver failure and required a liver transplant at a nearby hospital. His surgery was quite successful; however, because a suitable sized organ was not available at the time, Ronnie received a liver that was much too large to fit properly in his abdominal cavity. As a consequence, the surgeon had to to leave the abdominal muscles open, so that the liver, jutting prominently from his belly, was carefully covered only by his stretched-out skin and a small amount of underlying tissue. I followed Ronnie for several years while he lived with a relatively unprotected liver, and was quite relieved when he was finally big enough to undergo additional surgery and have the defect corrected. Needless to say, the extensive surgeries left Ronnie with quite a few abdominal scars, but Ronnie never appeared to be too concerned about them, as his belly was almost always concealed by clothing.
During the office visit, I discussed with Ronnie and his mother his recent health, his medication prescription, results of his recent appointment with the transplant surgeon, his family, his friends, and how he was doing at school. All seemed to be well. The physical examination was also quite satisfactory. As I filled out some paperwork for the family, the mother casually asked me about "this small whitehead under Ronnie's left eye that wouldn't go away". I admitted that I did not notice it before, and examined his face more carefully. Indeed, about an inch under his left eye, there was a very small, pearly bump that was no more than 1-2 mm, or about one-sixteenth of an inch in size. There was no redness, bleeding, scratches, or discoloration of the surrounding skin. Having seen the same kind of lesion many times before, I smiled, and did my best to provide reassurance:
"Ronnie, that little bump under your eye is a very common thing called "molluscum contagiosum". A lot of kids have them, and I probably had them at some point. It's caused by a virus, and usually they will go away completely after a few months without any treatment. You don't want to scratch or pick at it though, because it sometimes may spread to other parts of the skin. Just leave it alone, and you'll be fine."
I got on the computer and showed Ronnie and his mother drawings and pictures of the lesion, and the mother knowingly recalled that she once had several of those on her chin before that was treated with either chemicals or liquid nitrogen, and that it left a scar for a while. The mother seemed content to leave the lesion alone, since any treatment of the lesion may actually make it look worse.
Unfortunately, Ronnie suddenly became tearful and upset, and demanded that something be done to get rid of that "ugly" thing, which actually was barely perceptible to the casual eye. He didn't care that treatment might leave him with a worse looking scar, or that it might be very painful. He wanted it gone, and he wanted it gone IMMEDIATELY. I had no choice but to go ahead and refer him to a dermatologist, and felt a bit embarrassed that I couldn't handle such a simple, harmless skin problem.
Overreaction? Definitely. On the other hand, when it comes to hearing God's word, we are commanded to pay attention to the slightest detail:
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. (James 1:22-25)
God's word reveals His perfect character, exposes our iniquity, and defines his direction and will for our lives. If we are "doers of the word", it compels us to respond, and what we see will be much more than a tiny spot under the left eye.
During the office visit, I discussed with Ronnie and his mother his recent health, his medication prescription, results of his recent appointment with the transplant surgeon, his family, his friends, and how he was doing at school. All seemed to be well. The physical examination was also quite satisfactory. As I filled out some paperwork for the family, the mother casually asked me about "this small whitehead under Ronnie's left eye that wouldn't go away". I admitted that I did not notice it before, and examined his face more carefully. Indeed, about an inch under his left eye, there was a very small, pearly bump that was no more than 1-2 mm, or about one-sixteenth of an inch in size. There was no redness, bleeding, scratches, or discoloration of the surrounding skin. Having seen the same kind of lesion many times before, I smiled, and did my best to provide reassurance:
"Ronnie, that little bump under your eye is a very common thing called "molluscum contagiosum". A lot of kids have them, and I probably had them at some point. It's caused by a virus, and usually they will go away completely after a few months without any treatment. You don't want to scratch or pick at it though, because it sometimes may spread to other parts of the skin. Just leave it alone, and you'll be fine."
I got on the computer and showed Ronnie and his mother drawings and pictures of the lesion, and the mother knowingly recalled that she once had several of those on her chin before that was treated with either chemicals or liquid nitrogen, and that it left a scar for a while. The mother seemed content to leave the lesion alone, since any treatment of the lesion may actually make it look worse.
Unfortunately, Ronnie suddenly became tearful and upset, and demanded that something be done to get rid of that "ugly" thing, which actually was barely perceptible to the casual eye. He didn't care that treatment might leave him with a worse looking scar, or that it might be very painful. He wanted it gone, and he wanted it gone IMMEDIATELY. I had no choice but to go ahead and refer him to a dermatologist, and felt a bit embarrassed that I couldn't handle such a simple, harmless skin problem.
Overreaction? Definitely. On the other hand, when it comes to hearing God's word, we are commanded to pay attention to the slightest detail:
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. (James 1:22-25)
God's word reveals His perfect character, exposes our iniquity, and defines his direction and will for our lives. If we are "doers of the word", it compels us to respond, and what we see will be much more than a tiny spot under the left eye.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
A Matter of Consumption
"Diego, I'm going to do a little test on you in order to get to know some of your habits. We'll start with a game just to get you warmed up. OK?"
"Uh, OK."
Diego came with his mother to have his stomachaches checked out. After a couple of minutes of casual conversation, I learned that he likes to play basketball, but eats way too much fast food.
"You like to watch NBA basketball on TV?"
"Yeah."
"Great. For the warm-up exercise, I'll give you 30 seconds, and I want you to name for me as many NBA basketball teams as you can come up with. Ready? Go!"
I noted the time on my watch, and within a couple of seconds, Diego started to rattle off a list of team names:
"Lakers, Clippers, Knicks, Mavericks, Heat, Cavaliers...Hornets, Thunder, Magic...."
"Good job. Now, the fun part. I'll give you 30 seconds again, but this time I want you to name for me as many vegetables as you can possibly think of. Go!"
"Uh, carrots, broccoli..."
He was off to a good start, but stalled considerably after the first two vegetables, and eventually only added spinach and tomatoes to the list. He later confided that he hated spinach. Diego seemed to consume NBA basketball on TV much more than he consumed vegetables.
I was teaching Sunday school to the eighth graders at church a few days later, and decided to play the same game with the students, with a twist. I asked them to list for me all the Bible verses that they were familiar with. Sadly, most could not come up with more than one or two verses, and half the class mentioned John 3:16. It was evident that their consumption of God's word was woefully deficient.
"Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)
If we truly love God, we will have no trouble loving His words and commands, and will know many of them as if they are on the back of our hands. Meanwhile, turn off the TV, and pass the vegetables, please.
"Uh, OK."
Diego came with his mother to have his stomachaches checked out. After a couple of minutes of casual conversation, I learned that he likes to play basketball, but eats way too much fast food.
"You like to watch NBA basketball on TV?"
"Yeah."
"Great. For the warm-up exercise, I'll give you 30 seconds, and I want you to name for me as many NBA basketball teams as you can come up with. Ready? Go!"
I noted the time on my watch, and within a couple of seconds, Diego started to rattle off a list of team names:
"Lakers, Clippers, Knicks, Mavericks, Heat, Cavaliers...Hornets, Thunder, Magic...."
"Good job. Now, the fun part. I'll give you 30 seconds again, but this time I want you to name for me as many vegetables as you can possibly think of. Go!"
"Uh, carrots, broccoli..."
He was off to a good start, but stalled considerably after the first two vegetables, and eventually only added spinach and tomatoes to the list. He later confided that he hated spinach. Diego seemed to consume NBA basketball on TV much more than he consumed vegetables.
I was teaching Sunday school to the eighth graders at church a few days later, and decided to play the same game with the students, with a twist. I asked them to list for me all the Bible verses that they were familiar with. Sadly, most could not come up with more than one or two verses, and half the class mentioned John 3:16. It was evident that their consumption of God's word was woefully deficient.
"Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)
If we truly love God, we will have no trouble loving His words and commands, and will know many of them as if they are on the back of our hands. Meanwhile, turn off the TV, and pass the vegetables, please.
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