Jesus, in describing the intimate relationship that He has with His children, makes a profound statement: “I am the Good Shepherd and know my own sheep, and they know me…” (John 10:14 TLB). For those of us who know Him as Lord, this provides wonderful assurance and comfort. At the same time, there are less obvious factors that we often choose to overlook, and with good reason: Sheep are not very smart, prone to wander, inadequately equipped to defend themselves, and easily led astray. For this reason, I am thankful that David, a thousand years earlier, drawing from his experience as a shepherd, vividly portrays the obvious as well as the less obvious meaning of Jesus’ assertion:
He gives me the surefootedness of a mountain goat upon the crags. He leads me safely along the top of the cliffs (Psalm 18:33 TLB).
Even when walking through the dark valley of death I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me, guarding, guiding all the way (Psalm 23:4 TLB).
Show me the path where I should go, O Lord; point out the right road for me to walk (Psalm 25:4 TLB).
From the onset of our journey into the “Long Goodbye,” Linda and I, accustomed to hearing His voice, knew that we would need the Good Shepherd to serve as our Guide; however, neither of us had an inkling as to how difficult the terrain would become. Even though Linda has experienced the brutality of Alzheimer’s at ground zero, thankfully the cognitive decline associated with the progression of the disease and the wise use of efficacious medicines have allowed her, for the most part, to be at peace and enjoy life. Unfortunately, this situation has resulted in my having to make many very difficult decisions without her input. Therefore, I identify with the picture accompanying today’s blog and am overwhelmed with gratitude that Jesus knows the way that I should take, will guide me through each peril, and has promised to never leave me or forsake me.
In last week’s blog, I noted, “…with Linda’s physical safety and comfort in mind, a wheelchair was ordered and her care was upgraded to the highest level available at Legacy Village. While all this was taking place, in the back of my mind, a nagging series of thoughts leading up to a pertinent question refused go away: Thus far, the unpredictable progression of the disease has taken place within the framework of a larger somewhat predictable pattern. It can best be described as a circuitous downward trajectory, which usually includes a crisis, followed by a decline, and then a plateau. Has the final decline begun or will there be another plateau? A summary of two recent visits may provide insight:
Tuesday — When I arrived, Linda was sitting with her friends and holding her baby. Even though she acknowledged my presence and reached out her hand, she was agitated and demonstrated self-soothing behaviors, some of which I had seen before and others which were new: She made mild coughing sounds resembling a gurgle, patted her leg very hard — almost as if she were spanking herself, and frantically rubbed her head. In an effort to distract her, I combed her hair and ran a lint roller over her outfit. It worked — my reward was a smile! Nevertheless, the big news was yet to come. Much to my surprise, she started trying to get up; I learned that the caregivers had taken her for a couple of walks without her wheelchair. Deciding to do likewise, we went for a ten-minute walk and her gait was surprisingly strong. Later that evening, I wrote in my journal, “Once again, Little Miss Unpredictable is demonstrating a propensity to do things her way!”
Thursday — Linda was still eating when I arrived, so I waited for her in the Theatre Room. When she saw me, she broke out in a big happy smile; however, because she was unable to unable to follow instructions, transferring her from the wheel chair took two of us. After getting her seated, she began alternately crying and laughing. Neither seemed to be related to any cognitive or emotional factors. I think it was spatial disorientation, which sometimes happens when she moves from a standing to a sitting or bending position. Regardless, with my encouragement, her attention quickly shifted to the music of an old Lawrence Welk show, and she started moving her feet as if dancing. This was followed by some of the self-soothing behaviors I had seen two days earlier. After she settled down, we had a wonderful time together and enjoyed a show which we probably first saw twelve years after we were married.
What now? I am confident that the Good Shepherd will guide us as we take the next step toward our final destination!
Ron Harvard Ministries 