Finding us in the daily struggle, Dr. Carlson’s music draws us forward with courage but never lets us diminish commitment.
When I was about to retire from the Church of the Beatitudes staff, a colleague said, “Dosia, you’ve left your mark on this church.” Now, that could be a compliment, but he was laughingly pointing out the gouges on my office door left by my electric scooter.
During 30 years there, I wore out many electric wheelchair and scooter batteries.
Considering battery and maintenance costs, it is surprising to talk about “free wheeling.”
Actually, my years in the ministry have been priceless.
The daughter of Alexander Carlson, a Congregational minister, I grew up sensing that the
church was my second home. I vowed early to be a missionary to China. However, the day before beginning high school, I entered the County Hospital in Toledo. Polio would alter my life, but I could still serve God.
As early as fourth grade, I wrote songs that expressed my faith. Now in my 70’s, creating
hymns still helps me witness to God’s presence. During high school days, I penned a revised life goal:
Our Lord said “Go into every nation
And tell my story to each race,
Relieve the suffering of all people;
Proclaim God’s mercy, peace and grace.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
As others go into every nation
So may I follow in my mind.
Through earnest prayer and heartfelt giving,
I too may go and serve mankind.
And so I followed to Oberlin College and other university settings. One academic dean,
realizing that wheelchair mobility might limit career options, wanted to discourage me from becoming a teacher. I was determined to start professional life as a classroom teacher.
I became THE teacher in a one-room high school class for students with orthopedic
disabilities. I loved teaching yet felt drawn to full-time Christian ministry. Years at Hartford Seminary were challenging not only in terms of mind and soul-stretching classes, but also in terms of physical barriers.
Stairs everywhere meant I needed students with strong arms to carry me from one floor
to another. New England snowstorms motivated one student to mount a chair on a sled so friends could pull me through the drifts.
After seminary I shared my next fourteen years on the faculty at Defiance College in
Ohio. Teaching in the Religion Department and coordinating co-curricular activities helped keep me fully alive. Some hymns emerging during that era reflect varying moods. A quotation from St. Augustine inspired these words: “A Christian should be an alleluia . . . from head to foot! / Every cell of every muscle in this body I call “me” / Sings aloud in jubilation praising God unendingly.” We used maracas and tambourines to punctuate the calypso rhythm.
By contrast, a more reflective yet vigorous hymn included this verse: “Renew us, 0 God,
when we lose our compassion, / Rekindle a smoldering conscience of care; / Surrounded by self our existence is bare; / Renew us, 0 God, by your spirit of love.”
After moving to Phoenix in 1974, my hymn writing accelerated. I find a healing focus in
many hymn texts, particularly those written during my time of involvement in the parish nurse movement and the founding of the first hospice in Phoenix. When worried that a malignancy had returned to my leg, I rejoiced in news of a benign biopsy, even naming a hymn tune, BENIGN:
“Worry and fear we have fostered too long. / Spirits were weak when they should have been strong. / Now let us move from a sigh to a song. / Gloria, thanks be to God.”
Sometimes a simple phrase spawns a hymn. While helping with a conference in
California, I dragged too much stuff along. Suddenly, words popped into my head: “Lighten my load, Lord, I want to lighten my load.”
Working with aging persons and their care givers has dominated my Phoenix ministry.
When leading workshops or retreats dealing with aging and spirituality, I create new hymns. This refrain is for a hymn based on Psalm 92: “Still bearing fruit, morning after morning; / Still bearing fruit, year after year. / Faithful to God our creator, sustainer, / Thankful to God for planting us here.”
I remain thankful to God for planting me here and for providing opportunities to
celebrate wholeness. A recently installed sanctuary chancel ramp is surely a cause for
celebration.
As my freewheeling retirement years enable me to volunteer in stimulating ways, I pray
that I can leave my mark through witnessing and not just by scraping doors with my wheelchair. No matter what happens, I know that “a Christian can always be an Alleluia!”
From UCC DM Newsletter Archive
