Having spent my adult life in the classroom or the pulpit, trying to understand the challenges of measuring and interpreting the human lifespan is nothing new; however, coming to grips with the nuances of description in a personal sense is an entirely different matter. In my recent Bible studies, I have been comforted to realize that I am not alone. Personally speaking, though in a somewhat detached manner, David stated:

The Lord makes firm the steps
    of the one who delights in him;
though he may stumble, he will not fall,
    for the Lord upholds him with his hand.

I was young and now I am old,
    yet I have never seen the righteous forsaken
    or their children begging bread.
They are always generous and lend freely;
    their children will be a blessing (Psalm 37:23-26 NIVUK).

Later, another writer, in a purely objective sense, summed up the end of David’s life:

When King David was very old, he could not keep warm even when they put covers over him.  So his attendants said to him, ‘Let us look for a young virgin to serve the king and take care of him. She can lie beside him so that our lord the king may keep warm.’

 Then they searched throughout Israel for a beautiful young woman and found Abishag, a Shunammite, and brought her to the king.  The woman was very beautiful; she took care of the king and waited on him, but the king had no sexual relations with her (1 Kings 1:1-4 NIVUK).

Both accounts are true and equally inspired of God; however, I am sure that when David penned his thoughts on aging, he was not factoring in how the process would ultimately impact him. Herein lies my point: In 2015, when Linda’s neurologist objectively told me, “Your wife is a very sick woman,” I heard him, but the debilitating effects of this horrible disease, later identified as Alzheimer’s, had not yet impacted either of us at the very core of our being. Likewise, in 2018, when her primary care physician, completed a DNA panel and observed, “Linda has the capability of being quite resilient,” I heard her, but now realize I was interpreting the message dispassionately.

 Updating the Report

Restricted visitation ended this week, and I am now able to personally see Linda. Even though I had been able to regularly Face Time and, on one occasion, see her through a Plexiglass screen, I was not prepared for the changes I am witnessing. She is shuffling more and recently experienced a fall; however, for me, the most startling change has been in her ability to communicate. On Wednesday, she flashed her beautiful smile, reached out her hand, and we were able to walk for several minutes. Since then, she has been more lethargic and subdued. Overall, her primary care provider and the nurses at Legacy Village agree that she is declining; the disease is progressing.

 Returning to the issue of her being resilient, the authors of The Life Span note, “Resilience involves the ability to flourish despite the challenges that life presents.” In our long life together, especially during her battle with Alzheimer’s, she has vividly demonstrated this ability. Therefore, even though the end of her journey is near, I would not attempt to set a timeline!

 Declining or Progressing

 It is interesting how the usage of these two words creates different reactions in the mind of the hearer. Declining, as it relates to Linda’s health, when correctly understood as a medical diagnosis, has an obviously negative connotation. By the same token, progressing, when used to define further movement into the advanced stage of Alzheimer’s, creates awareness that the end of her earthly life is nearer. Choosing to look beyond this earthly realm, years ago she and I came to realize that our last moment on this earth perfectly coincides with the beginning of our eternal existence in Heaven. Each day when I visit and pray with her, I reinforce that reality, which is built on a solid foundation: 

 For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we’ll never have to relocate our “tents” again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what’s coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we’re tired of it! We’ve been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what’s ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less (2 Corinthians 5:1-5 MSG).