Looking back to that time in her early sixties when Linda first began to manifest signs of memory loss, I now realize that the desires of three persons were involved: Linda needed an answer to a huge question, “Why is this happening to me?” I was focused upon a single request, “Father, I want you to heal Linda in order that we might live out our earthly lives together!” God planned to use our pain to accomplish a much larger purpose — He intended to conform Linda and me into the image of Jesus Christ.
An overarching truth should be noted: God did not cause Linda to develop Alzheimer’s. Rather, when Adam fell, humanity was introduced to sin, sickness and death. Only through Christ is there hope for restoration. Furthermore, His love is pure, His purposes are perfect, and His creative capacities are unlimited. By understanding His suffering, we are able to grasp how He is able to bring victory out of chaos and provide a model for us to emulate. Facing death on the cross, He prayed:
“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42 NIV).
Commenting on this portion of scripture, J. R Miller, long before Linda and I began our journey into the “Long Goodbye,” illustrates the essence of unfolding victory:
It is not applying pressure or insisting upon our own will that brings victory. It is won when humility and trust unite in saying, “Not my will, but yours.”
Starting the first grade just five years after the ending of World War II, I was greatly impressed by the overwhelming victory that had been won by the Allied Forces. Unfortunately, I tended to conceptualize it as an act and not as a process. Later, I learned that hundreds of smaller victories took place before that great victory was declared. As with all earthly victories, it cannot compare to the spiritual victory that God has been leading Linda and me toward during these long years of suffering. The Message translation of I Corinthians 15: 50-55 summarizes the end of our journey in unforgettable terminology:
… let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die — but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:
Death swallowed by triumphant Life!
Who got the last word, oh, Death?
Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?
This past week, God allowed us to experience two smaller victories as He continues to prepare us for the magnificent victory that is yet to come.
Monday – Upon my arrival, the caregivers told me that Linda had been crying and wanted to go to bed. When I went into her room, she appeared to be distraught and very emotional. Playfully greeting her, I asked if she wanted to stay in bed while we visited or sit in her chair. She signaled by nodding that she wanted to get up. For the next few minutes, she intermittently cried as I sang to her, and then we went for a walk. Returning to the Theatre Room, I redirected her with my antics and stories until she was no longer emotional. When mealtime drew near, I escorted her to the Dining Room and prepared to quickly leave; however, before I could get to the door, she was already up and looking for me. Therefore, again returning to the Theatre Room, we watched television until the food arrived.
Tuesday – Linda greeted me with her beautiful smile. When I asked her if she would like for me to trim her toenails, she nodded, “Yes.” After relocating to her room, while trimming her nails, I sang, playfully bantered with her, and attempted to bring her up to speed on all that was happening in our family. Obviously, she couldn’t put it all together; however, in my excitement over her great mood and alertness, I probably ran past the stop sign. Fortunately, she remained distracted long enough for me to complete the task at hand. After combing her hair and removing the lint from her outfit, we returned to the Theater Room, watched 50’s singing, held hands, and acted as if we were two young lovers on a date.
Ron Harvard Ministries 