Manh Dang's Blog

She’s 78 years old with the double diagnoses of chronic lymphocytic leukemia and stage IV lung cancer. She was admitted a few days ago with pneumonia but tested negative for COVID-19. I saw her during round this morning, sitting alone on her bed, stooping over the bedside table. Behind the weary eyes and the wrinkled forehead was a lonely soul, longing to be home with her family. The nurse’s aid helped her to the bathroom a moment after I left. I came back to check on her but, too exhausted, she had drifted off to sleep. The light from the window illuminated the room and outlined the face of an elderly woman who was near the end of her journey here on earth.
There are many casualties of the COVID-19 pandemic. One of which is the hospitalized cancer patients who lately have endured the ravages of their battles alone – because of the needed social distancing. Yes, they are cared for by the loving hands of the nursing staff, doctors, and other ancillary services – but that’s about all the human touch they will have. The only exception is if the terminal event is near, then their families can be given special permission to visit.
Our great nation was built on the backs of the older generations and preserved by their blood, sweats, and tears. Now, almost in the blink of an eye, many of them are especially at risk of emotional isolation and physical extinction, either directly or indirectly by an invisible evil force. Many are fighting their battles away from their families, in their respective corners of hospitals around the country. As I left the ward, a song that I never heard before, One Day by Cochren & Co, was played on the radio. It’s also on YouTube. Look it up and take a few minutes to listen. I did this morning. Then I found my own quiet corner in this hospital and wept.
“One day there’ll be no more waiting left for our souls
One day there’ll be no more children longing for home
One day when the kingdom comes right here where we stand
We will see the promised land
One day there’ll be no more lives taken too soon
One day there’ll be no more need for a hospital room
One day every tear that falls will be wiped by His hand
We will see the promised land
Hallelujah, there will be healing
From this heartbreak, we’ve been feeling
We’ll sing in the darkest night ‘cause we know that the light will come
And there will be healing, hallelujah
------------------------------------------------”
Bothers and sisters, promise me after this pandemic is over, or even before, that we will not just live but live well! Let’s, for the rest of our lives, strive to make this world, the world wonderfully endowed by the previous generations, the world currently threatened by COVID-19, an even better place for our children and grandchildren. Let’s start by accepting each other for who we are and overlooking our differences. Let’s not allow hatred to overcome compassion. Let’s refrain from posting political opinions as by doing so, we convert no one and proving to everyone that we’re hopelessly partisan. Let’s take better care of our elderly wherever they are. Let’s reach out to them at homes, in hospital wards, nursing homes, or on the streets. Let’s be an example for our children by loving our neighbors as ourselves. Let’s look for the poor and the sick and bless them because when we do so, we bless God. Let’s appreciate the little things because everything is a gift. One day, we will be held accountable for everything we do and say. And that one day…is today!

Today, our nation is bracing for the impact of an epic storm that comes from the wrath of an invisible enemy. But today, God’s people will kneel then stand to face this enemy with the courage that emanates from the breath of our Creator.

Today, fear dwells in the depth of humanity because of a dark force that gallops through our world and disrupts our lives. But today, faith will prevail in the hearts of all believers because of the promise “I will be with you” in the midst of any storm.

Today, a wave of death and destruction comes crashing through a world of division and self-service. But today, a partisan people will fight together as one to survive a flood that can indiscriminately drown.

Today, the enemy exercises its prerogative: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy” as in John 10:10. But today, God proclaims His promise in Hebrews 13:5: “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

Today, we must keep ourselves confined in the respective corners of our lives and isolate ourselves from without. Because by doing so, tomorrow we can again come together as one people victorious over an enemy that seeks to destroy from within.

Today, we must stay home in isolation and away from the valley of the shadow of death. So tomorrow, we can again embrace one another on the mountain where light has come to conquer darkness.

#stayhome #covid19 #godwithus

Last summer, my family had a reunion on Isle of Palms, SC, a tradition that we have every year. One day at dawn, I was walking on the beach to meditate and admire God’s creation during the golden hour. Golden it was – from the rising sun to its corona, to the morning sky, to the reflection of the heavenly light on the surf. Everything seemed to be immersed in the color of gold. The ocean waves gently and rhythmically came and went - leaving behind a momentary foam. The salty wind was both gentle and soothing. Aside from the alluring sound of the sea that’s steady like the heartbeats of nature, it was quiet. It was a surreal moment as the beauty of dawn on the beach was breathtaking. But what mesmerized me the most was the wet sand that glowed after the waves retreated. I’m sure you have seen it, walking on the beach at the water edge. The wet and compacted sand after the water retreated looked like a sheet of glass that reflected the sun above and extended its light as far as the eye could see. A golden mirror that reflected a golden light and made it even brighter. That image has stayed with me with an indelible sense of awe and peace.
We have heard and read so much of the coronavirus pandemic lately. The name Covid-19 strikes fear into the heart of every man, woman, and child on this planet nowadays. A lot of information, both good and bad, has already gone “viral”, no pun intended. Even experts on the field seem to have somewhat different takes on the ultimate impacts this microscopic villain will cause by the time it’s over. Some are sending a more cautious and calming note while others are predicting more dire consequences as if there isn’t enough panic already. While all of us expect things to get worse before they get better, most would like to stay calm in the midst of a storm as we know panic breeds irrational behaviors that can cause further harm. Yes, we all need to take the precautions that are spelled out by our federal and state and local governments and use common sense to mitigate this crisis. And yes, while it’s wise to have ample food and supplies in the case of quarantine, it’s harmful to the sickest and oldest among us if we stockpile stuff that won’t make a bit of difference to us now or later.
For my medical professional colleagues out there, my encouragement at this moment in time is to stand our ground as we always have. We are to take care of our families and ourselves as we must. But if the need is deep and the demand is great at work tomorrow, we are to work longer, do more than asked, and care more than needed because that’s how we are. We are created to care for those who can’t for themselves and that’s a privilege endowed by God. We seek not glory nor personal fulfillment other than satisfaction with doing the best that we can. So tomorrow, if the need is deep and the demand is great, let’s put on our scrubs, our lab coats, our stethoscopes, or whatever… and most importantly, our caring hearts and a steadfast resolve to do what it takes to battle whatever illnesses that plague humanity, including Covid-19. We must stand our ground and work with the ancillary staff, the first responders, law enforcement officers, etc. because in doing so, we fulfill what’s asked of us. Until Covid-19 retreats, we must stand our ground. Mercy and healing will ultimately come from God. We just ask to be that sand mirror that reflects His Grace. May God bless us all!

The sun rises early on this country road this morning. As the minutes go by, the winter’s cool quickly warms up to the promise of the soon-coming spring. On both sides of the road, farmlands awake behind wooden fences. The sky is deep blue and there is no hint of clouds around. A raptor circles above in search of potential prey. Ditches along the road are still filled with evidence of a downpour a few days ago. Like broken pieces of glass, the standing water reflects the sky above and fence posts nearby. A railroad track and an abandoned general store from years past beckon a nostalgic sentiment. Farmhouses, glistening ponds, livestock and stallions beyond the fences are reminders of the stability and livelihood of this rural community. But a young buck crashing through a gate and running along this country road provides a glimpse of life’s unpredictability around here as well. And the wildflowers among the grass sum up the randomness of beauty that scatters in the lush landscape of this land.
Standing anywhere in this countryside, and one can sense the omnipresence of God. His face must be hidden behind the blinding sun. But his heartbeats reverberate in the gentle wind that sways the tall grass below and the leaves above. His light reflects against the surface of rippling water of creeks and ponds. His loving touch awakens the sleepy calves that rest in the cradles of bedding straws. His voice whispers in the chirpings of birds that perch on small branches. His flair for arts is displayed by the purple flowers in the midst of pasture green. And his love for authenticity is evident in broken fences, crooked mailboxes, and fallen barns that make this countryside look both indelibly real and beautiful.
For some reason, I feel closer to God on stretches of the countryside like this, knowing that he’s as much in my own corner of life and work. Perhaps, it is because, on the quiet country road like this, my focus is on him and not on myself.

Thank you, God, for your presence even when we don’t see you! It is often out in the open that we marvel at your grandeur. But what’s more incredible is when we’re immersed in our own worlds that you choose to walk beside us. You’re there when we’re deep in the valley of sins or swept up by the currents of wants. You’re with us as much in the lowly places as when we stand on the mountaintops. You are omnipotent and omniscient. But you choose to be omnipresent...for our sake.

As I drive back home from the excursion to the countryside, I have a thought on why flowers grow among the grass. They are there to beautify the pastures that livestock feed on and to remind us of God’s presence. Just like God’s words are here to remind us of his presence and guide us on our journeys through the fields of life.
Al 35, Woodville, Alabama
3/7/2020

I stood on a dock watching a rainstorm on Edisto Island, SC recently. Something I don’t recommend doing often, lol. It was a winter morning in the South. The creek’s water swelled in high tide and its current was flowing upstream from the inlet. Across from where I stood was the marshland with tall grass turning a reddish-brown color this time of the year. Beyond the marsh, I could see the ocean and hear its rhythmic roars. The sky was dark with low-lying clouds and raindrops fell gently then heavily from the heavens above. With few exceptions, everything was draped in the color of misty grey. The smell of pluff mud and the sight of Palmetto trees around me were un-mistakenly iconic in this Low Country. Now and then, a white egret would take off from the marsh and once or twice, a fish would jump and make a splash on the water. It wasn’t a pretty day. It was cold and wet.

I looked down at the creek’s water below. The current now picked up and seafoam and debris coming from the ocean and through the inlet were now more abundant. What caught my eyes next was something unexpected – a rose petal floating atop the water. The tiny red petal in its brilliant beauty was a stark contrast to the murky and dull water around. It was weighed down by a few raindrops that settled on its surface. But it floated by me with radiant grace. Its velvety exterior and rounded margin seemed to soften the sharpness of the austere landscape on this dreary day. Though minuscule among the giants of objects around, it was noticeable and admirable. It evoked in this casual observer’s soul a sense of nobility in the mundane, and in his heart, an appreciation of beauty among the common things.

We have a patient at our cancer center that regularly gives away coffee cups and T-shirts to whoever wants them. The recipient can be a staff member or a fellow patient in the office. Engraved or printed on these gifts are inspirational messages. Fighting her own illness and yet she’s not dwelling in her own world of turbulent water. She chooses to uplift others above the mundane and shines in one of the murkiest of circumstances. She chooses to dance in the rain and encourages others to do the same. I find her spirit noticeable, beautiful, and admirable. She teaches me that no matter how large or small a good deed is, its color is most radiant in the places where it’s needed most. She is a rose petal in the rain!

The fact is we all can be that rose petal. Or for the gentlemen out there, a “fleur-de-lis”, the symbol of royalty and nobility, if you prefer. We all can be the symbol of good if we momentarily overlook our own rainy days and thorny circumstances and assist or uplift others facing similar or worst difficulties. Mother Theresa, one of my favorite “rose petals” once said: “not all of us can do great things. But all of us can do small things with great love.” Oh, how more beautiful this world would be, if our journeys through the fields of life were covered with rose petals, especially in the midst of rains.

It’s an early winter morning on the beach. The sky is overcast and dark clouds swirl like living giants wrestling above. The cold wind picks up now and then and a light rain adds to the dreariness of the day. The horizon is obscured by a misty fog and closer to shore, one after another, rows of furious waves come crashing in. On the sand lay countless broken seashells that glitter under whatever little sunlight there is. This stretch of the beach is a popular destination for beachcomber. But today, the place is empty – except for a few sandpipers and more broken seashells than one could count.
Near the water, resting on the cold wet sand is this dull and broken half shell. It lays helplessly on its back - jostled in and out by the edge of the coming and retreating waves. The elements have rubbed off the shine on its coat and its color has faded from the passage of time. Its edges are no longer sharp and the furrows that used to be well defined are now barely visible. It is just a remnant of its former self - a relic of a glorious past among other relics on this cold and wet beach. It’s a microcosm of the late phase of all life cycles on earth. But look carefully, and one can see the beauty that comes with time. The same beauty that’s evident in an old barn that graces a countryside, a rusted tractor that rests on a green pasture, a well-used bicycle leaning against a country home’s window, an antique well pump that contrasts the colors of fresh winter snow and visiting cardinals, a broken garden box that showcases the first flowers of springs, and the forgotten weather vane that romances the full autumn’s moon at midnight. This old shell adds rustic beauty to the austere and cold landscape on this rainy day. Its damaged exoskeleton remembers countless stories of life on this beach. It witnessed children playing in the surf as parents watched on every summer. It listened to the whispers of many lovers strolling by at dusks. It welcomed the fishing trawlers on the horizon at the break of dawns. It holds a trove of treasured stories that lasts a lifetime. It is the definition of beauty of age and wisdom of the time. Someday, it will disappear to the other side of heaven. But for now, it is beautiful in its own right. And on this side of heaven, it should be treasured.
And that is how we should also treasure the elderly. In a society that’s sometimes cold and austere, where political and other differences often cast dreariness on our days, the elderly tend to be marginalized in the waves of endless quarrels. They walk about life slowly, slumping under the weight of time and typically sneered at for holding up traffic on busy highways. They do complain of the joints that hurt, the heart that’s weakened or the mind that’s rusted with the passage of time, and the bowel that forgets. But sit and talk to any one of them and one may hear a forgotten world coming alive. Behind the furrows on the forehead is a trove of treasured stories. Beneath the wrinkles is once a daring youth that may have stormed the beach of Normandy or crash-landed in the jungle of Vietnam. The curvature of scoliosis might belong to a former ballerina that once dazzled audiences on the world stages and the tremor of Parkinson’s might now slow the steps of a retired nurse who once walked the halls of a hospital as she cared for the sickest of the sick. The failing heart may belong to a woman who loved and lost while caring for her family as a single mother. The demented soul was once a brilliant mind that helped send mankind to the moon. And many more are stories of accomplished lives if we bother to slow down and talk to them. Yes, someday not long from now, they will move on and return to God. But for the moment, on this side of heaven, the elderly are to be respected, honored and loved for making our world a more beautiful place then…and now.

The misty veil was momentarily lifted to let in a few golden rays. But dark and foreboding clouds quickly moved in to shield off what little sunlight there was. The northern gust picked up and churned the lake’s surface into tiny billows. At a distance, a lone bass boat hurriedly skimmed the turbulent water as if to seek refuge after an early dawn’s attempt. Fish sometimes bite when the water is rough – or so the angler must have thought. Barren trees lined alongside an empty beach, swaying to the rhythm of the gusty winds. Now and then a leaf or two, the last of its kind was blown free from the scrawny branches. The temperature dropped and then with little warning, the downpour came. Raindrops pelted the waves, blurring the already abysmal landscape. And that’s how lake Guntersville, off of Highway 72 in North Alabama awakened to this morning. It’s a dreary winter morning. It’s a cold, gray and lackluster spectacle of a day.

But look closely and one could see the beauty that punctuated this gloomy and bland natural canvas. Next to the low-lying bridge that crosses the lake, adorable black ducklings calmly floated atop the bobbing waves, ignoring the telltale signs of inclement weather – like kids enjoying a water park. Nearby, magnificent winter birds in white plumage daringly jumped off the rail and playfully glided with the wind like circus performers. And above, a group of mallards, with green masks and white collars, loudly patrolled the sky like a squadron of WWI fighters. And the raindrops that pounded the water also created percussion like the drumbeats that accompany the music of howling winds. It was nature’s beauty in the midst of its dreariness. We tend to let our circumstances affect our moods. I am just as guilty of this sentiment as any. Days like today can dampen my resolve. But some of you carry sunshine in your hearts and dance in the rain. You see the beauty in any weather that life has to offer and appreciate what makes the moment special. I need to be more like you. I need to remember that life is brief and even a day devoid of sunshine is a gift to be treasured. And when God paints the portrait of a rainy day, He makes sure beauty lies in the details of the simple things. Like the ducklings that welcome the waves, the winter birds that dance in the winds and the mallards that rule the sky, we too should appreciate any moment that life has to offer, rain or shine. Open our hearts, and beauty is all but obvious on life’s canvas because sunshine truly comes from within.

Lake Guntersville, near Scottsboro, Alabama, 1/18/2020

I closed my eyes during quiet time with God this morning and saw a creek. The water was gently flowing and mist slowly rising above its surface. It was a cold winter day very much like today, but strangely enough, the colors were that of golden warmth. There was a forest that’s barely visible on the other side and the morning light softly touched the tops of trees. Standing in the fog, across from the water was my mother! My heart was suddenly gripped with sorrow as she passed from a stroke many years ago. But sadness quickly gave way to comfort as I saw her smile. She looked beautiful, unlike the last memory I had of her. Then my father, who died of cancer recently, came up beside her. He too, looked handsome and dapper like he was in his younger years. Then I saw my brother, who killed himself after college and my sister who suddenly left us a few years back, presumably from a heart attack. They both looked magnificent as they too smiled back at me. My father-in-law walked up, in a plaid shirt, blue jeans and cowboy boots like the first day I met him. Then one by one, the faces of the many patients (too many), that I lost over the years, appeared. Each one of them smiled with radiant vitality and peace. Undoubtedly, they were in the company of God! Upstream and at a distance, I saw a simple bridge that led to the other side. I know someday, I too will cross this bridge. But at the moment, I have to wait. Between heaven and earth is a bridge so close but yet so far.

Friends, I know you have had visions like this. Perhaps they are just what we want to see because we miss our loved ones. Or perhaps, they are glimpses of heaven that we are allowed to have. We will know for sure someday.
One thing we can be sure of now. And that is we are in the midst of a battlefield here on earth. Our enemy has many faces to show – illnesses, depression, anxiety, addiction, poverty, self-doubt and many more. It wields its power through the weapons of abuse, neglect, abandonment, hatred, prejudice, accidents, disasters, and anything that can kill or destroy. It cloaks itself in the snares of fortune and fame, of position and pride. We all have to fight these battles and none of us will leave here unscathed.
The good news is we fight these battles together and with God. No matter the outcome here on earth, we’re already assured of passage over to the other side. I’m blessed as you are with the gifts of love from family and friends and from God. And that is more than enough to face our enemy, no matter what size or shape it comes in. So while still here on earth, let’s fight well, live well, love well and finish well. Let’s carry each other’s burdens and look for and lift up and fight for those who can’t fight for themselves.

That bridge that connects heaven and earth is so close and yet so far. But as I opened my eyes from the quiet time, I was reassured that this bridge was built by God and it’s meant to rescue, unite and promise battles that will end and life that’s everlasting. And someday, the smiling faces in the fog will reappear with clarity and tears will be replaced by warm embraces – on the other side.
Huntsville, Alabama
January 25, 2020

Thick fog hangs heavily over the soggy fields this winter morning. Puddles of water stand as reminders of the intermittent drizzles. The drab brown landscape below and ashen sky above lend themselves to the dampened mood that surrounds this countryside. One can barely make out the tree lines beyond the shrouding fog. Bushes along the fences of harvested farmlands have long ago lost their foliage – revealing barren twigs and rusted barb wires that run along the winding roads. It is a chilly and somber day. But now and then, a ray of sunshine does break through small cracks in the clouds. Look closely and one can appreciate the water droplets that cling precariously on thorny branches along the wired fences – like tiny ornaments. Nearby, green sprouts on dead twigs promise the renewal of life. And among the grass are patches of tiny purple flowers (Henbit deadnettle) that thrive even in the dead of winter. Life must and does continue in the dead of winter.


It has been a difficult week for our nation as we mourn the loss of a beloved athlete, his beautiful daughter and loving friends in a tragic accident. This week, we also mourn the deaths of several law enforcement officers across the land in the line of duty. And overseas, we lost the lives of too many treasures to protect and preserve our freedom and the freedom of others. Closer to home, an fiery explosion at a marina in Scottsboro, Alabama killed eight, including a mother and her five children. And how many others succumbed to illnesses, accidents, suicides and homicides this week? In the blink of an eye, families were torn apart as sadness befell like the winter chill this week. It’s hard to wax religious eloquence in time like this other than believing that death has a meaning and life must continue in the dead of winter. And beyond the brevity of our life on earth is the promise of a permanent home in heaven. The occasional sun rays today promise a brighter future above the clouds. The green sprouts signify life anew with our Creator as our journey on earth ends. The tiny flowers among the grass are reminders of a pasture that has no border. And tiny droplets are tears that are momentarily shed now but wiped away in the afterlife. And that’s all that we can promise those who mourn this week because we cannot take their pain away.


Life is precious and brief and at times life is shrouded by the fog of winters or gripped by the sting of losses. That is what evil in the world strives to do. To divide, destroy and kill. So there is no time for us to quarrel over meaningless affairs. We have to help each other until we get to the other side of the fog. For the sake of each other, and that of God’s, let’s all try to be the light that warms, the sprouts that promise, the droplets that soften the sharp edges, and the flowers that color the fields when winter comes. As I drove away from the countryside this morning, I listened to Lauren Daigle’s rendition of “Don’t dream it’s over.” The lyrics sum it all up:


“Hey now, hey now

Don’t dream it’s over

Hey now, hey now

…………………………

When the world comes in

They come, they come

To build a wall between us

We know they won’t win”


Finally, for those that lost loved ones this week, and for the rest of us, be reassured that on the other side of the fog – stand awaiting are the ones we mourn. They have arrived and so will we.

Paint Rock Valley, Alabama

2/1/2020

He gets up a little earlier this morning. A lady is coming to visit, so he was told. With some help, he shaves, showers, and puts on the best outfit he has in the closet. He even picks out a bow tie that matches the color of his trousers.
Now sitting in the foyer, he anxiously awaits. He gets up now and then to stretch out the stiff joints. Well into his late seventies, arthritis has taken its toll. But he moves about OK, albeit slowly with the assistance of a trusted metal cane.
“How are you today, Charles?”
He turns around at the sweet voice of a woman - a little confused.
“Fine! And you are!?”
“Anne! You look dapper today!”
He searches his memory but does not recall ever seeing this woman before. She certainly looks attractive with silver hair fashionably coiffed. Behind the spectacles dwell engaging but endearing brown eyes. Her cheeks glow with a touch of makeup and red lipstick outlines a pleasant smile.
“Did you sleep well last night?” she asks.
“Yes,” he mumbles as his stomach flutters with a thousand butterflies.
“It’s beautiful outside. Want to go for a walk?” she asks.
“Uh…sure!”
The garden outside is simple and well kept. Rose bushes line a gravel path and the early blooms fill the air with a sweet fragrance. Songbirds above perform melodious compositions and a bumblebee or two romance the flowers of amour. The couple finds a bench at the corner of the garden and under the warmth of the morning sun, they sit and hold hands. He feels an instant bond with this stranger and in a world of confusion, he finds peace. The softness of her skin, the kindness in her tone, and the tenderness of her touch give him hope. She rests her head on his shoulder and he gently places his hand on her arm. She gives him a peck as he hands her a single rose. Their hearts beat as one. Charles is captured by the magic of love.

Charles and Anne have been married for over fifty years. Dementia that began ten years ago relentlessly drains Charles’ mental aptitude of a teacher to that of a toddler. And over the last few years, even basic daily activities have become monumental tasks for him. Without children living nearby to help and being of poor health herself, Anne has no choice but to have her husband institutionalized. But she makes the effort to visit him daily – rain or shine – without fail. Though he no longer recognizes his wife, Charles falls in love with her all over again every day – just like the day he first met her.
They walk back to the nursing home’s foyer, still holding hands.
“Will I see you again?” Charles asks.
“Of course, dear!” Anne responds.
Anne helps her husband to his room then kisses him good-bye. As she turns to walk away, Charles asks: “what’s your name?”

Dementia is like a thief in the night. It robs the unsuspected victim of his or her priced possession and dignity. It is insidious but brutal. Death is often slow for the afflicted and emotionally painful for their family. It comes in different forms. It is a cancer of the mind. It imprisons one’s soul and debilitates one’s body. But the emotions of the heart are still there – just trapped within the cocoon of a damaged brain.
Sitting in the rose garden of the nursing home, due to Charles’ dementia, Anne knows that between them is a distance too far – a distance caused by the loss of a lifetime of memories. But for a moment every day, their love for each other closes the gap and the distance momentarily disappears.
True love is patient and kind. It does not boast nor envy. It keeps no record of wrongs. It’s patient, hopeful and faithful. It’s the only thing that connects heaven and earth. It bridges the gaps and it endures dementia and decay. Through love, any distance can...disappear.
Happy Valentine!
2/14/2020
(1 Corinthians 13)