I am not invincible! My family and friends agree, and if you have been influenced by my ministry, you are also aware of this obvious fact. However, twenty-seven years ago, an overly developed sense of responsibility, an unrealistic work schedule, and an unwillingness to accept my limitations caused me to ignore all the warning signs and brought me perilously close to collapse. I promised myself I would never again let that happen; however, old habits are hard to break. Three years ago, I received a wake-up call when Linda’s Primary Care Provider said, “I am not worried about your wife. She is receiving great care. You are the one I am worried about.” Now, knowing this horrible disease will eventually take Linda’s life creates within me an overwhelming desire to spend quality time with her and see that all her needs are met. Accomplishing this, without destroying myself in the process, requires me to continually recharge my spiritual, emotional and physical batteries. Hold that thought; I shall return to it later!
Compassion Originates in God
Conscientious caregivers to dementia patients, desiring to relieve the suffering of their loved ones, often search for medical solutions. While necessary and commendable, that search sometimes ignores readily available spiritual answers. Two millennia ago, the Apostle Paul, personally familiar with suffering, shared a truth that is still applicable:
All praises belong to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. For he is the Father of tender mercy and the God of endless comfort (2 Corinthians 1:3 TPT).
In the footnotes, the translators wisely state, “When suffering greets us, the God of mercy sustains us.”
Receiving and Sharing Comfort
As I watch the caregiving team at Legacy Village faithfully meet the needs of those whom many consider unnecessary, I am increasingly aware that they grasp something unregenerate persons cannot understand and the Church sometimes tends to forget. In a seemingly endless cycle they make sure nutritional needs are met, medicines are dispensed, hygiene requirements are satisfied, fingernails are painted, time in the garden is provided, appointments to the hair salon are kept, and participation in worship is made available. They demonstrate, perhaps without even realizing it, God’s plan for alleviating suffering:
He always comes alongside us to comfort us in every suffering so that we can come alongside those who are in any painful trial. We can bring them this same comfort that God has poured out upon us (2 Corinthians 1:4 TPT).
Redefining My Role
As promised, let’s return to my last thought in the opening paragraph: “…knowing this horrible disease will eventually take Linda’s life creates within me an overwhelming desire to spend quality time with her and see that all her needs are met. Accomplishing this, without destroying myself in the process, requires me to continually recharge my spiritual, emotional and physical batteries.” As I noted in last week’s blog, “I am surrounded with emotional and spiritual support from my family and friends.” Their support and the prayers of so many others enable me to maintain balance.
Moving Linda into Legacy Village did not relieve me of my responsibility to care for her. Rather, it redefined my role as primary caregiver. Having others attend to her physical, social and, to some degree, emotional and spiritual needs, allows me to enjoy quality time with her and compile memories I will cherish long after she has gone to be with our Lord. Highlights from two very different recent visits illustrate my point:
- She managed to tell me in her own words how pleased she was to see me. As we sang worship songs from the Red Back Hymnal, she frequently said, “I love you.” When I sang, with great drama, “She’ll Be Coming Around the Mountain,” she got a kick out of it and playfully slapped my arm several times.
- When I arrived, she was asleep in the commons area. Upon awakening, she indicated a desire to go to her room; however, when I tried to get her up, she could not stand — it seemed as if her body were resisting. With the help of a caregiver, we walked to her room and she promptly went back to sleep. As she lay sleeping, I held her hand and softly sang songs I knew she loved. At the end of each one, she would squeeze my hand. Near the end of my visit, she awakened, smiled, got out of chair without assistance, and returned to the commons area.
Reflecting upon these two extremes tends to give me emotional whiplash. However, when tempted to despair, which is often, I turn my thoughts toward God. In nearly fifty-eight years of marriage, Linda and I have found His mercies are new each day. Even more wonderful, eternity in His presence is still ahead!
Ron Harvard Ministries 