• Skip to main content
  • Skip to footer

Ruth Amos

Living a quiet life

  • Home
  • About Ruth Amos
  • Saying NO
  • Blog
  • Podcast
  • Get in touch

nursing

Ep 33 Margie – Very recent Old Testament stories

June 5, 2019 by FIX-141

Ep 33 Margie – Very recent Old Testament stories
A Quiet Life

 
 
00:00 / 00:37:35
 
1X
 

Download file | Play in new window | Duration: 00:37:35

Subscribe: iTunes | Stitcher

Margie has spent a lot of her life in missions in some quite scary places. We talk about a few of the stories where she’s seen God come through, in her own life, and in the lives of her friends in the Democratic Republic of Congo. We also talk about the importance of prayer, of knowing that God is right there and speaking with you.

Margie is amazingly pragmatic and straightforward. Her faith is strong because it has been tested. Not just overseas but also in her own battle with cancer. She has so many stories to share, and after hearing these few that we had time for, I hope that she writes a book to share more with us.

www.redcross.org.au

www.leprosymission.org.au

 

Margie Transcription

 

Share this:

  • Share
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn

Tagged With: Democratic Republic of Congo, faith, get uncomfortable, God's protection, leprosy mission, nurse, nursing, prayer, protection, Red Cross

Margie Transcription

June 5, 2019 by FIX-141

Today’s guest is Margie. Margie and I have known each other for quite some time, and she has the most incredible stories, so I’m very excited to be able to talk to you today, Margie, and hear your stories. We’ve been actually praying about which of the incredible stories we talk about today!

But we’ll start where we always start, which is: how did you become a Christian?

Well, I was born into a Christian family, and so I was brought up going to Sunday School, going to church, believing there was a God and seeing Him in the things around me, and the people around me. But then, there comes times when it’s like you take another step, another commitment to go deeper, and there were several of those during my life. Different people who have encouraged me, who have challenged me just to take that next step, and to become more and more Christ-centred.

As a teenager I drifted away a bit, but then I came back – I was drawn back. Through Billy Graham on the television, I think. I think that’s what it was. [laughs] Then other steps, by other people – real people sharing their faith with me, and challenging me.

Was there a specific time when you really said ‘Right, line in the sand here – from here on in, I’m with God’?

Not that I can remember, but you see it’s always been there, because when I was – I guess I was only about four, five, six, something around there – I don’t remember this, but my father told me about it. You know when people say ‘What are you going to be when you grow up?’ and [you say] ‘I’m going to be a princess’ or ‘I’m going to be a fairy’ or ‘I’m going to be’ goodness knows what – not me. I said ‘I’m going to be a nurse and look after little black children.’

Wow.

I know I always wanted to be a nurse.

Had you been reading books about famous missionaries?

I don’t know – possibly some missionary people came to church and talked about mission, or something like that. For one of my birthdays I wanted a little doll, and my gran took me to the shop to buy the little doll. We went to Woolies, and there was a black doll there. And she was horrified because I wanted the black doll. ‘It’s your birthday, you can have the black doll if you want the black doll’ – so I had the black doll. So right from early on, there was something in my heart that God had put there, that made me both want to be a nurse and look after little black children.

That’s so lovely. So you just went straight into nursing when you finished school?

With difficulty. We left England – I was born in England – and we came out to Tasmania right at the time when I’d done my school exams back there, and I didn’t do very well. I wasn’t very good at school; I had a rough time at school. When I got here, when I applied to be a nurse, they said ‘We don’t consider this to be an education certificate.’ My mother was horrified.

So they just didn’t recognise your education at all?

Something like that. It was very strange. So I ended up getting in through the back door – I did the government exam, which proved that I did have a brain, and it did work. I knew of the headmaster of our local school, and also an anaesthetist – a doctor who we’d got to know – and they both put in a word for me. And I was simply told ‘Well, you can do it, but the first exam you fail, you’ll be out.’ And I said ‘That’s alright, I won’t fail an exam.’ And I never did. So I got through that; it was hard, but I always wanted to be a nurse.

Why did your family come over here?

Opportunities, I think. My father was in work that was dead-end, in a factory, just piling more responsibility onto him but no more recognition of that extra work. I think dad could see that there were more opportunities elsewhere. We never regretted it. It was hard, very hard at first, but we never regret coming here.

Good. So, did you work for a while as nurse here in Tasmania?

I started off working in a chemist shop and got the sack after a week. I was just sixteen at this stage. I got the sack because I wouldn’t oblige the fifty-something-year-old man with something more than just serving behind a counter. So I got the sack. So that was okay. Then I worked in a dress shop – this was while I was trying to get into nursing, because you can’t get in at sixteen – and eventually I got into nursing. I did my training here, at The Royal [Hobart Hospital], and then I did midwifery in Sydney, and I did child health in Hobart, and then things were open.

So you worked for a while in a normal setting – you didn’t go straight into missions at that point?

No, no no no, I worked in all sorts of things – casualties, and operating theatres, I was in charge of the burns unit, I worked in chest hospitals in England, and all sorts of things.

So how did your faith show in that sort of situation?

It’s hard to tell. I think there were some things like the not obliging the man at the chemist shop. I think those are the sorts of things that come through, but I think at that stage I was not an outgoing Christian. It was very much something in me, for me. And there’s a difference; it’s not until you get to the point where you realise that what you’ve got is precious and it can be everyone else’s that you think, ‘I should be sharing this. I shouldn’t just be holding onto it.’

So how did you get to that point?

Oh my goodness. I don’t know. I guess it’s just taking those steps further when you’re challenged, and realising that it’s not something you hide, it’s something that you share, and it’s something that you need to show every day. It’s not a Sunday thing, it’s not a, ‘Today I’m going to be a Christian,’ or ,‘in this circumstance I’m going to be a Christian, in this one we’ll just let that slide a little bit, it’s not bad.’ I guess it’s just building up – you get to a point that you want to live as a Christian, you want people to see that you’re a Christian, and you want to be bold enough to actually, at times, challenge what they’re saying or doing and why. I think it’s when you get to that point, that’s when you become an active Christian, that’s when you become a sharing, caring Christian. And people know, and they can see where it comes from. Otherwise they just think ‘Oh, she’s a bit of a goody-goody, she doesn’t do this or she doesn’t do that.’ If they don’t know where it comes from, then that’s how they see it. Whereas if they see that it comes from your belief, and from the way you want to live, that’s when it can be useful to them.

So I don’t know at what point I got to that point. I know that in the 1970s I went to Papua New Guinea – I was on a mission field there.

Which missionary organisation was that with?

Well, it was really interesting because I actually went with the Catholic church. I’m Anglican, but I went with the Catholic church – or, to a Catholic base – because they were the ones that were in that area. Papua New Guinea’s divided up – different denominations have different…

Territories?

Different areas, yes. So you get one whole area which is Catholic, you get one whole area which is Anglican, you get another whole area which is Presbyterian, something like that. I ended up there because I went up there with a doctor, and was offered jobs all the way through, and this was the one that seemed the right one to go to. It was furthest west, furthest north, and about the most primitive I think, of all the ones. So it seemed right.

I was going to ask if you did midwifery there – I’m guessing you did everything there.

Yes, except midwifery – they had their own local midwives, and only came to me when they had troubles, and luckily I didn’t have any too horrific things. But yes, challenging.

So that was your first missions experience, and you’ve been in other missionary organisations as well, so what mission things have you done?

I did go to Afghanistan – not really with a mission, but with Red Cross – so I was in Afghanistan for eight months with the Red Cross. That was a challenge. And then I went to Congo, in Africa, with the Leprosy Mission, and I was there for fifteen years … which was a … challenge. [laughs]

I guess it’s been challenging to come back here after that, as well?

It was extremely difficult. I came back and I couldn’t work out why I couldn’t settle back in, and why I was so … confused, I guess was the word. I went to a retreat, and I was spending time in prayer and reading the Bible and that, and we came together in small groups for prayer. And all of a sudden the Lord made it perfectly plain to me: I was so angry. I was so angry with Australia. The anger that I felt was because in Africa, where I’d been, the people there have nothing and they give the Lord thanks for everything. And here we’ve got everything, and we give the Lord thanks for nothing. That was what was really making me angry.

How did you deal with that?

I just gave it to the Lord and said ‘This isn’t of you.’ I can’t do anything about the whole situation here, but at least by identifying it, I knew where I was standing. ‘Yes, it’s exactly that, so what are you going to do about it? Well, you’d better do something about telling some of the people here who gives them all these good things. Where they come from.’

So how have you done that?

Ooh. Well. I tried getting back into nursing, but it didn’t really work, because by that stage I was starting to get a bit old. It was alright while the girl in charge of the clinics was of my vintage, but when she retired and a young one came along, she really didn’t want any older people working there. So sadly it was some not very nice kind of feelings, that – no. But we get that, because you’ve got the difference between the hospital-trained and the university-trained. So I didn’t go, and as far as I’m concerned it was probably the right thing to do, because I left work then. I was old enough to retire, past retirement age, so I retired. And then I could do what I wanted to do, and what I felt the Lord was showing me to do. And He got me a lot more involved in my local church. I try and do some work with the Leprosy Mission here in Tasmania as well, and all those kinds of things. Relationships. People that I hadn’t had time with a lot of the time I was in Africa, so catching up with them and showing them why I was over there. Even some of my own family, I had to explain to them why I was over there.

That’s fantastic. Do you have stories that you can share with us of your time there?

Oh, so many. So many. So many times when the Lord was so in what was happening you couldn’t miss Him. You really couldn’t. Hmm, some stories… well, there’s a story – I was over there, and while I was over there, there were three wars. I would go through the war, and then they would evacuate me out at the end of it. Which always seemed a bit strange, but that was how it worked. When I went back again – and people would say to me, ‘You’re not going back again, are you?’ and I’d say ‘Well, yes! God took me there, and He hasn’t told me to come home yet, so I’m still there.’ So I went back, and I would talk with the people that I knew, the ones that I’d been working with and those sorts of things, and just ask them, ‘What did God do for you during this time?’ Which has been so hard for them. And the stories were incredible.

When I went back after the first lot of fighting, which was really, really horrible fighting, and I was out for nearly a year, and I went back. And I went through systematically with all the ones I’d worked with and said, ‘What happened?’ And there wasn’t one of them who didn’t tell me what God had done. One of the tricks the rebels used to do was if they found a family walking along the track, they would send the men one way and the women and children the other way, and often the men were not seen again. And they were going along, and this family got up to this thing, and the man said, ‘You’ – to the man, ‘you go that way, and you others you go that way.’ And as clear as anything, a voice was heard saying, ‘No, no, he goes with them.’ And they sort of looked around, but there wasn’t anyone there that they could see at all. And so the rebel just said ‘Oh, well. You’d better go with them then.’ And off he went with the family, and he was safe.

In another instance, the rebels had come into the town, and this family were in their home. Now their homes there are maybe two rooms, with a little kitchen outside. And they were huddled in the room praying for protection, because they could hear the rebels circling right round their house. They’re little mud brick houses with a window, and a door, maybe a second window. They’re there, and they’re praying like mad, and they thought, ‘They haven’t come in.’ And they could hear them saying, ‘Where’s the door? Is the door your side?’ ‘No, the door’s not over this side.’ ‘Well, it’s not over this side.’ And they were going round and round and round this little oblong house, and they couldn’t find the door. Guess who blinded them? Because the door was as obvious as anything.

It’s very Old Testament, isn’t it?

It’s incredible. Another time I was in Rwanda. We’d had to leave because the rebels were coming, and the local soldiers had gone up the hills because they realised if they stayed in the town and there was a big fight, a lot of the people would be hurt, and they didn’t want anyone hurt. So they went up the hills behind, and there was only maybe two thousand of them. And all these rebels come pouring in, you see, and start looking for the soldiers and they can’t find them anywhere. So they just took over the town with no fighting. And I’m sitting across the border in Rwanda, and I hear them say, ‘United Nations went to see where the Congolese army were’, because they knew they were up the hill. And they went to look, and they said, ‘They saw that there was about ten thousand Congolese soldiers who were preparing to come down onto the town.’ And I’m sitting there thinking, ‘No, there’s not ten thousand of them there.’ And no-one could have got there to help, to make ten thousand. There was only one, maybe two thousand. Anyhow, the rebels heard this and took off! They just ran and left. And some of the people from the town actually had to go up and say to the one or two thousand Congolese soldiers, ‘Uh, they’ve left, you can come back now.’ And that reminded me so much of the Old Testament story.

What do you think – and I haven’t given you any notice on this question – what do think it’s going to take for us to have those kinds of stories here in Australia?

Well, first of all, you have to actually expect them. Because, I’m sure many times they happen, but because you’re not expecting God to answer your prayer, or expecting God to act, you don’t see it!

You won’t see the thing as an act of God.

No, you go ‘Ooh, that was a coincidence, wasn’t it? Just as we were doing this, such and such happened.’ No, it doesn’t work like that. If you’re trusting God, then He will do something. And if you’ve got your eyes open, you will see it.

It’s like William Temple (former Archbishop of Canterbury) said, ‘When I pray, I see coincidences happen, and when I don’t pray, I don’t see them happen.’

That’s right. You’ve got to expect them, and when you pray you’ve got to expect God to answer. And it’s usually ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘not now’. In one way or another.

Do you have a story of your own life where God’s answered Yes, No, or Not Now?

I remember when I was about to go overseas, I was very comfortable here. I had a wonderful job that I loved, I was in charge of the burns unit at The Royal, I was doing a lot with children’s accident prevention, I had my own home, my own car… I was fine. And you always have to be careful when you’re fine and comfortable, because that’s when God suddenly says, ‘Now that you’re sitting comfortably and I’ve got your attention, I want you to go overseas.’ And I went, ‘Oh.’ So I madly started looking round: ‘Ooh, it’d be nice to work with children, ooh, what about this organisation, what about that one, they’re nice –‘

Comfortable.

Nice comfortable ones, yes. But the doors were all slammed shut. And I thought, ‘Hmm.’ And I can remember very easily praying one day. And I was like, ‘Lord, you’re telling me to go overseas but everywhere I’m trying, the doors are shut.’ The big word there was, ‘I am trying’, you see? Instead of saying, ‘Lord, where do you want me?’ I was looking for myself. And as clear as He was standing behind me, He says, ‘What about the one you’re involved in?’ And I went, ‘Oh! The Leprosy Mission! Now that’s novel.’ And I asked them, and everything flew open. It was so obvious that that’s where He wanted me. He was just waiting for me to ask Him.

So you worked with people who had leprosy, or is it wider than that?

Yes, there was leprosy, there was TB, and because of the TB there was some AIDS work there, and there was a thing called Buruli ulcer, which is a bit akin to tuberculosis.

So there’s quite some risk there for you – did you feel that you were going into a risky situation?

Well, I was going into Congo, so I was already in a risky situation!

Yes, stupid question, sorry. Daft.

[laughter]
Did you just trust God to protect you, or did you get to the point where you say ‘Whatever happens happens’?

I think when He puts you somewhere, then He’s going to look after you. Because He wants you there. He’s put you there, He’s given you the skills to do what He wants you to do, even if He expects you to keep learning just to keep ahead of those you’re supposed to be teaching. Yes, I see it as I’m under His umbrella. He’s got me protected under His umbrella. It’s when I step outside of that and say, ‘No Lord, I’ve had enough of Congo. I’ve been evacuated twice now, that’s enough, I’m not going back’, I’ve stepped out from underneath His umbrella, underneath His protection. That’s when I’m at risk. Not when I’m under His umbrella. When He told me clearly to come home, I came home. And when I came home and had all my medical checks and things, I found I’d got breast cancer. Perfect timing! There was no way it was going to get diagnosed out there. He has our whole life in His hands, not just the edge bits.

So when do you feel close to God?

All the time, in many ways, because I always know He’s there. I’ve always had this vision where He’s just sitting behind my shoulder. And that I can whisper to Him any time, and He can whisper to me any time. He knows exactly what’s going on; in fact, He knows further than I do. So there’s times when you do feel a bit distant, you sort of feel, ‘Ah, what is it? I just don’t feel I’m close to Him at the moment.’ And I always say, ‘Well, guess who moved?’ You just focus again on Him and pray, and ask for forgiveness for what you think you might have done wrong, or stepping away or whatever, and just ask Him to come back and be very close. Because then you’ve got all your guidance you need, and – you hope – control of your tongue, and your actions, and those sorts of things when He’s really close.

What’s one thing about God or Christianity that you wish everyone knew?

Oh, I wish everyone would know that God loves them, and that He’s there for them. Because so many people are so anxious and so looking for the answers for everything, and it’s right there! If only they knew about it, if only they would accept it, but it seems to easy just to accept. It’s not too easy, that’s the way he’s made it, so that by accepting Him, knowing who He is and what He’s done for us, then He’s ours, and we’re His. And together we are His hands, His voice, His feet here on Earth. We’re the ones that are going to tell other people about him, and that sort of thing. So many people just spend their whole lives looking, looking, looking, ‘What have I got to do? I’ve got to do all these things so that I please God’, or, ‘do all these things so He doesn’t get angry with me.’ Whereas if you just accept Him and have a beautiful relationship with Him, like you do with a really special friend, then it’s a beautiful thing. And you don’t have to be anxious all the time.

We’re out of time, but I want to ask – what would you tell the Church? What do you want the Church to know?

Not to get too tied up in rules and regulations and divisions. It doesn’t matter which Christian denomination you are, we’re all one family, and we should just be enjoying that and being together like a family. Families have differences and things like that, but they still are a family.

That’s lovely. Thank you very much for sharing with us. I could talk to you for ages, but I probably should bring it to a close! So thank you so much for sharing with us today. It’s been a blessing.

You’re most welcome.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Democratic Republic of Congo, faith, getting uncomfortable, hearing God, nursing, Papua New Guinea, prayer, protection

Ep 27 Romola – every birth is a miracle

April 24, 2019 by FIX-141

Ep 27 Romola – every birth is a miracle
A Quiet Life

 
 
00:00 / 00:30:42
 
1X
 

Download file | Play in new window | Duration: 00:30:42

Subscribe: iTunes | Stitcher

Romola is not someone who puts herself forward. In fact, I think she’s happiest serving quietly in the background. I think I must have been very pathetic when I asked because she relented and agreed to come on my podcast. And I’m so glad she did. Her stories of what God is doing through her quiet witness working as a midwife are powerful.

We talk about the joy when things go well, and the sorry when things go badly in childbirth, and how God has given her several divine appointments where she was truly able to speak into peoples’ lives.

And we talk about a special time in her life when she knew that God was very close to her.

I’m sure you’ll be blessed by listening.

Hebrews 11:6 And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.

Romola Transcription

Share this:

  • Share
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn

Tagged With: a Muslim praying for a Christian midwife, babies, birth, Christianity is not religion, death, Genesis, homebirth, midwife, midwifery, not 9 to 5, nursing, Revelation

Ep 23: Libby — Bloom where you’re planted

March 27, 2019 by FIX-141

Ep 23: Libby — Bloom where you’re planted
A Quiet Life

 
 
00:00 / 00:31:15
 
1X
 

Download file | Play in new window | Duration: 00:31:15

Subscribe: iTunes | Stitcher

Libby is now retired from her work as a palliative care nurse. She shares about the joys and hardships of working in the palliative sector. She also shares about her love of art, painting and colouring in, and about how art was a way to healing for her.

When Libby found out about the healing nature of art and of colour she wanted to use that knowledge to help others and she shares about her experiences with that too.

Libby is a gorgeous, gentle and down-to-earth woman with lots of wisdom from a lifetime of caring for others.

Libby Transcript

Share this:

  • Share
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn

Tagged With: art, creativity, freedom, healing through creativity, nursing, nursing management, once a nurse always a nurse, palliative care

Libby Transcript

March 27, 2019 by FIX-141

Welcome to A Quiet Life everyone. Today my guest is Libby Todd, and I thought I knew nothing about, well I do no nothing about Libby so I’m really looking forward to interviewing her. But I actually found out that she knows my Poppy and Nanny from way back when Poppy who is Eric Phillips was a minister at Cygnet. And Nanny who is Doris—

Mrs Phillips, taught me piano.

Yay! She taught me piano too. So we have that in common. I was probably a much worse student than you.

So Libby and Kelvin have just recently moved down here from Launceston, 14 months, so that’s very recent. And they have two grown up girls and two absolutely gorgeous-sounding grandchildren.

They’ve got a daughter each.

And then I said to Libby, I’m going to stop talking to you now, I’m going to press record, and we’re going to get the rest of the interview recorded.

Now I take my valium.

So we always start with, how did you become a Christian?

I grew up in a church-going family. Stalwarts of the Anglican church at St Mark’s Cygnet. And I can say that I’ve always known God in my life. I just have known. And yet I was very frightened of God for a long time. We did all the usual things, Sunday school and church and all the rest of it. And I was a good girl.

We moved to Blackmans Bay when I was 15 and Mum and Dad started going to St Clements church. And St Clements was going through the charismatic revival at the time and Mum and Dad got caught up in it and they went all funny and freaky and I couldn’t cope.

So I ran away. I went the opposite direction. And I moved, literally, to Launceston in that time and I did my own thing. But I just knew that God was there, tapping on my shoulder.

And it wasn’t until I had Alex, our first daughter, that I just started questioning the meaning of life and all that. And for the first time I understood what love was. Love without wanting a return, necessarily.

And the tapping on the shoulder persisted to the effect that I took myself off to St Aidans church. Mum and Dad, when I moved to Launceston, said, ‘If you ever want to go to a church, go to St Aidans church because they’re just like St Clements.’ Well that was the last thing I wanted to do. In the end I went back and Jesus got me good and proper, and that was that.

So that was 1985.

And did your husband come to the Lord after that?

After that. He got dragged along to meet these strange people at St Aidans church, who were very, very nice. And they became our family, really. And then he started going to a home group, and gently he will say that they just loved him into the kingdom. And it didn’t take too long. Six months, twelve months, something like that. That’s that.

Can I ask, are your daughters Christians?

No. They are not practising. They know the power of God in their lives. They know very well. But they’re not walking with God now.

That’s alright. We just keep praying, don’t we?

We do.

So what did you do for a job?

I’m a nurse. I’m retired now, I’ve been retired about two years. But once a nurse, always a nurse it seems. I went nursing, did it the old-fashioned way. Trained down here at the Royal Hobart Hospital.

Were you a particular kind of nurse?

I’ve done a lot of everything. I’m a bit of a flitter, I like to try, sample new things. I’ve had a lot of roles in my nursing career. The most recent, though, was as a manager in the palliative care service in Launceston. And that’s where I found my home. With palliative care.

I arrived there.

It’s like all my life, all my experiences, all my faith, culminated in this experience with palliative care. It was hard to leave but I knew it was the close of a season when I did leave.

What drew you to it? I can see what you’re saying that you felt like everything pointed you to that point, but what was it about dying people?

Because in dying, we start to understand what living is about. And some of the most honest experiences I’ve had in caring for other people have been with people who are faced with terminality.

And you know, that’s when you can get real with people. I’m not one for small talk. I’m not one for pitty-pattying around the edges. I tend to dive in deep. And that gave me the opportunity to talk about things that were of value and had meaning.

And professionally I could do so much to alleviate their distress and they taught me a lot about living as well.

So that’s what it was.

I had a conversation with Sean in a previous podcast where he talks about being a chaplain in that situation. Not necessarily in palliative care but how he had to be careful about when he brought his faith to bear and when he didn’t. Did you have a similar situation?

Yeah, you couldn’t really be overt unless you were invited to. In which case, look out! You’re in! But you could talk about hope, and you could talk about meaning. And you could refer to what you put your own hope and faith in. But you had to be very, very careful.

Because one of the easiest things to do, I learned, and I used to tell all my juniors this one, was it was very easy to trespass on what is a treasured experience for people as they approach the end of their life. Very easy to trespass and trample all over. So you’ve got to be careful.

And the other thing too, I’ve been with so many people as they drew their last breath, and you just pray, and you pray, and you trust that (and I have to apply this to my own children) Jesus loves them far more than I will ever be able to understand. And what he’s doing in their last moments I will never know and I trust that as I take that person to him, he will do what he’s planning to do.

That’s lovely.

Do you have a story that stands out to you from that time?

Now you’ve put me on the mat.

Yeah, I haven’t given any warning.

Not a particular one. I’ve got bits of many. I just grew so close to a couple of people. Yeah, I suppose there’s one.

I did a few roles in the palliative care business. I did the clinical role for a few years and then I went away and did some other things, and I came back as a manager. The management role is a whole other thing, and God taught me so much in that.

But the clinical role, I remember a client (we call them clients in the community) whose wife was a Christian, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was, ‘Bah humbug’.

And he was really quite brusque and everything with her in her faith. But she was just steadfast. And through our mutual prayer for the situation, I grew so close to him and to them. And he and she became so close. It wasn’t an easy death. I don’t recall that he professed any great conversion, but I do believe that he accepted the reality of Jesus. I think he kind of gave up the fight against Jesus and probably would give him a go. Although it was too late for him at that point to articulate that. But you just got the feeling that the barrier had broken.

And I stayed friends with that wife for many years afterwards.

I’m thinking about that with the wives and family of people who have passed away, it’s just such a deep time that you’d have to make deep connections?

Yes, you do. And yet, you can’t take them all on board. You can’t — it’s taken me a lifetime to learn that. You can’t take it in. So some remain with you, others you forget.

Which is a good thing because you can’t take all of that experience, that suffering, that pain. You can’t even take all those good times. So that’s just the way it was for me.

And then being in the more management position, you’d be helping other nurses deal with all of that, and teaching them all that as well?

Yeah well that’s exactly right. I fell into a situation where I worked with a team that I’d been a clinical nurse in. It was a brilliant team, brilliant people. I loved them like a hen loves its chooks. But it was a case of departmental bullying and harassment and I got the job of spearheading the change and bringing it to the light.

And others had tried and hadn’t succeeded. And it was only because God was with me, and had me there for that appointed time, and it was the most amazing supernatural experience because it was like I was coated in something. To just keep me able to move through the muck that was around.

I was able to really influence things.

And after that it was, ‘OK that’s enough. Down tools. You can walk away now.’

Which I regret because I would have liked to have stayed on, but my job was done and I just knew it. So I’ve gone off into this land. A new land.

So this is the reason that I wanted to talk to Libby because we have been talking about, we have a thing at church called Love Kingborough where we’re trying to reach out to our community and share with people. And Libby, you brought up about using art as that sort of ministry. So when did you start art?

I used to win prizes at school etc. I always knew I could draw. I didn’t do anything with it until, it was with my clinical experience with palliative care. And it gets to you, as it would, it can be a bit depressing. And everybody has their way of coping. And rather than hit the bottle, the first thing I did was weed obsessively.

I just wanted to make things right, so I attacked a few patches of garden and weeded. The next thing, I can’t explain it without twiddling my fingers because I felt charges of colour. This sounds weird. But I felt like my fingers were charged with colour, and I had to play with colour. I didn’t know what that was about.

I’d happened to come across some adult-ed classes. This is ten years ago now. In water colour painting. And I thought, ‘I could get messy’ so I went, and I found I could do it. And that just opened a whole new life for me.

And I haven’t stopped painting since.

So that was just my little hobby. That need to play with colour became my therapy when I was doing the clinical stuff.

When I came into the management with palliative care and things were really hard some days, my outlet was to come home, and somebody had given me one of the modern colouring in books. Which I obsessively collected. I collected every pencil known to man and whatever. And I got a pile of colouring books a mountain high.

And Kelvin, my husband, knew that when I came in the door of a night I would go down to my studio in the spare room, I’d take just a little glass of sherry, and I’d do my colouring for an hour. And whilst I was doing that, playing with colour, all the dark stuff in my head was finding its level. And it was working its way out. After about an hour of that time I could come out and reasonably have a conversation. And that was what got me through.

Did you listen to music while you were doing that?

Yes, usually.

And then when I finished work, no, through various associations I made at work were with some social working friends of mine. And they were running sessions for women who were going through a hard time. And one of them asked me to go along and could I do something? Knowing I was painting. I’d painted her a picture, that’s right, and she said, ‘Oh could you teach me how to do that?’ Anyway, so we got together, and since leaving work, I’ve actually, with this friend, been able to run a couple of workshops for women, ostensibly.

And all it is, is about, I suppose you’d call it mindfulness, except you’re doing something. Mindfulness is not, for me, about lying down and staring into space. It’s doing something but with another part of your brain. And whilst you’re doing that, things are achieving a level in your head.

And the other thing is, some people were quite creative about what they did. And they were just so proud of themselves that they could actually do something on a canvas and they could hang it on their wall and say, ‘I did that. I’m OK.’

Do you find that you have to battle against perfectionism?

Yeah a little bit, but I’m very familiar with that. Going back 61 years of that. I don’t think I’ll ever get there but there are different techniques that you can utilise to do that.

And I would love to do a course in art therapy, to do it formally, but I think I might have left my run a bit too late. There’s not a lot you can do from Tassie without doing it by distance, and it costs so much too. So I think I’ll just potter around and do my own thing. And look for opportunities.

So in terms of Love Kingborough, I’d love to facilitate something like that. I’m just looking for the space to do it.

So you’ve found that when you were working with people using art that it was a healing time for them as well?

That’s right. It was just taking them, just for the hour or two that they were doing it. Taking them out of themselves. Just reorienting themselves.

Doing it in a group also gave peer support. A couple of workshops I’ve run they’ve also started talking about their problems, and it’s what they can do for one another. In that time. I didn’t do much I just threw canvas and paint down for them and sort of guided them in some exercises.

It’s what they do together. Which is what I find women do anyway, as a rule. And they found another aspect to their life that they didn’t have before, and that they could look back on when things were getting rough, as one told me. And say, ‘Hang on, I can do that, I’m OK.’

So that to me is healing.

And it’s also reflecting, because as a facilitator, I can be encouraging them. I can be, not talking about God necessarily, but I can be talking about the creator, that gave them their creativity, whatever that may look like. And I can talk about my belief in the creator. And I can help open their eyes to see creation, and that’s going back to palliative care days as again too.

I could walk into a situation, or a nurse could walk into that situation, and with the right skill and toolbox and all the rest of it, reorient that person’s framework to look, not on the dying, but on the living. And look at all the little things within that, that makes quality of life. And just gives them a little bit to hang on to.

When do you feel close to God? Is it when you’re drawing that you feel close to God?

No, I’m usually frustrated because I’m a perfectionist and I’m not perfect. No, it’s when I’m walking on the beach, or sitting staring out the window at the mountain in the morning. It’s nature, it’s His creativity, which is boundless.

I’m just having a thought, I probably shouldn’t bring this up in the middle of an interview, but so many people have said that in nature is where they feel closest to God, and I just wonder how that affects people in the big cities?

Yeah, I’ve got that too. But even in the big cities there is a creativity, as you well know. You’ve got to look a bit harder for it I think.

It doesn’t beat you over the head like it does when we’re walking on the beach.

No.

What’s one thing about God or Christianity that you wish everyone knew?

Freedom. You don’t have to do things the way the world dictates.

I had this very strange image of what it meant to be a Christian woman when I was a teenager, based on absolutely nothing. And that’s what I was afraid of. And instead, when I did say yes to Jesus, everything just opened up. And I realised that that wasn’t a reality at all. That had been a big fat lie. And I found, well I’m still finding who I am. Find yourself, different versions of yourself in different seasons.

That’s the biggest thing. That freedom.

I got myself a tattoo a couple of years ago. There on my wrist. And that little bird with a paintbrush in its beak symbolises creative freedom to me. Birds equal freedom, and to be able to soar above. And of course the paintbrush is self-illustrative.

My daughter dared me, so I did it. We got one together.

That’s really great.

And I felt free to do it, that’s the thing. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. God loves me, warts and all. I’m not always brilliant at proclaiming that on a day-to-day basis. I have my moments.

What does day-to-day Christian life look like for you now?

That’s changing. Probably just the older I get, the wiser I get sometimes. And also, the less you can do.

I’m an activist. I’ve got to be doing something all the time. So to me, the old adage, ‘bloom where you’re planted’ comes to mind, I suppose. Whatever you’re called to do, wherever you are. Be that professional life, relationships, whatever, you do it as Jesus would want you to do, would do.

I’m not saying I’ve got all this right. And there are some days that are quiet and I get frustrated because, ‘I’m not doing anything for you Lord.’ But other days I’ll accept the fact that that’s OK because I need one of those quiet ones. I’m an introvert by nature, I need more quiet ones the older I get.

And that’s OK because really God can do whatever he wants to do without me. He doesn’t need me. So whatever you do as a Christian, wherever you are, you just do it, mindful that he loves you. Breathe him in; breathe him out. And try to be a blessing to whatever you’re in.

That’s lovely. Well, thank you very much for sharing.

That’s OK. That’s it? It wasn’t too hard.

I keep telling people.

It’s been really awesome, I think we’ve got things to think about from what you’ve said. So thank you for sharing.

Thank you, Ruth for asking.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • LinkedIn

Filed Under: Podcast Transcription Tagged With: always a nurse, art and healing, creativity, nursing, once a nurse, palliative care

Footer

Connect with me

  • Facebook
  • Twitter

Copyright © 2019 · Author Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in