Today’s blog was originally published under a different title on September 5, 2021. With a few minor changes, I am reprinting it in its entirety. My wife Linda is nearing the end of her long struggle with Alzheimer’s. Therefore, I feel compelled to share what I have learned with caregivers who are just beginning the journey. A simplistic assertion sets the stage for my thoughts: Far more important than how many times you stumble, or even fall, is how many times you get up and keep on going. The wonderful old hymn, “Stand by Me,” illustrates my reasoning and leads to three meaningful guidelines:
When the storms of life are raging, stand by me;
When the world is tossing me, like a ship upon the sea,
Thou who rulest wind and water, stand by me.
In the midst of tribulation, stand by me;
When the hosts of hell assail, and my strength begins to fail,
Thou who never lost a battle, stand by me.
In the midst of faults and failures, stand by me;
When I do the best I can, and my friends misunderstand,
Thou who knowest all about me, stand by me.
When I’m growing old and feeble, stand by me;
When my life becomes a burden, and I am nearing chilly Jordan,
O Thou Lilly of the Valley, stand by me.
The composer, Charles A. Tindley, the “Father of African American Hymnody,” was appointed Pastor of Bainbridge Street Methodist Episcopal Church in 1902. Growing up in very difficult economic circumstances, years earlier he had served as their janitor; his worldview was not disconnected from the storms of life, which served as the foundation for his understanding that he must always lean heavily on the power of God.
Grow Through Your Mistakes
In my youth, working with my father, a carpenter who became a successful building contractor, I was able to see mistakes as an opportunity for growth. His words still echo in my mind: “Son, if you’re not making mistakes, you’re not doing anything! Pick yourself up and keep on going!” Later, this mindset worked well because it allowed me to extend grace to my parishioners who were struggling with life; however, evaluating my own mistakes was a different issue. I demanded perfection in my performance, and anything less was seen as failure! It took the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s in the love of my life to set me free from performance and enable my personal acceptance of grace. Searching for answers and finding a dearth of practical information, I quickly discovered that the trial-and-error method was my most effective tool in meeting Linda’s needs.
Do Not Face Your Struggles Alone
In the early years, this was my single greatest mistake. Attempting to shield Linda and concerned that my parishioners would not extend to me the grace which I extended to others, I turned my pain inward and suffered alone. After retiring from the pastorate, as this horrible disease accelerated its monstrous quest to steal her personality, her dignity, and ultimately her life, I finally reached out to family and friends and found not only a willingness to help, but a sincere desire to come alongside me in ways I had not imagined. I now realize that not only had I brought unnecessary pain on myself, but I had also prevented the very people she and I loved so much from receiving blessings they deserved. Unwittingly, I had made a scriptural mandate I dearly loved of little value in my own life: The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance (1 Corinthians 12: 25-26 MSG).
Accept God’s Greater Plan for Your Life
My stubborn insistence that God heal Linda in this life resulted in a myopic view of His eternal purpose and limited my ability to understand that her suffering would result in a myriad of victories for both of us. I had no inkling that God intended to use what appeared to be unanswered prayers as an opportunity for me to share insights about coping with the devastation of Alzheimer’s. Through personal experience, I have grasped the meaning of Job’s surrender: I had only heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes (Job 42:5 NLT). Years ago, when we first began our journey into the “Long Goodbye,” eternity was in the far distant future. Now, we are very aware that we are standing on the edge of eternity!