Still Growing In Grace

I reaped so many personal benefits from this season with Dad. I can still experience the excitement of the Lord just like when I first met Him. I can still learn. I am still teachable. I can adapt. I must continue to be flexible. I haven't arrived, and I know it. That's good to remember. Contentment is at home with me, and it is so welcome. There's always room for more of it. Knowing that there is a blurry line between contentment and complacency motivates me to be vigilant, and reminds me of the prophetic nature of my given first name ("Gregory"), and what the Lord would eventually do in me and through me. Look up its meaning if you are curious, but in ancient languages, my name is derived from the word that means "to stay awake, to be vigilant, responsible, watchful."

Notice the word "responsible." One use of the word is in Matthew 25:13, "watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour." Talk about responsibility! My task from the Lord is not just to talk about the distresses of the day or complain about injustices or evils; I am responsible to act rightly and guide others in a priestly manner to be watchful of the Lord, His ways, and His return. That's why I sarcastically smirk at this generation's enlightenment that it is arriving to a higher learning and is now "woke". Void of wisdom, our culture today has done less with its learning opportunities than any previous generation with its information and level of discovery. Knowledge is the accumulation of information, facts, opinions, perspectives, etc and much of it has no relevance on anything important or eternal. Wisdom is the spiritual ability to process and apply that information in a way that highlights the person of God and His purposes. Wisdom is the real "woke"ness. HA! And it is in short supply today.

Scripture invites, urges, admonishes, even commands and demands that we "grow in grace and the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." (II Pet 3:18)  My years with Dad affirmed that I can and am still growing, learning, assimilating and acting upon wisdom, sorting things that are true from the false, and the eternally important from the worldly mundane. I have often asked the Lord to never let me grow bitter as I age, to never let me get away with thinking I have arrived, to always remind me I can and must grow in Him, and that if I reach a place of bitterness, complacency, or self-sufficiency, I expect that He will deal with me firmly. I have asked for it, and I should expect it. Praise God! He's still working me......

Writer's Block

I have enjoyed writing these God stories about my years with Dad. It has been awesome to experience the Lord through this, and honestly, there are some spiritual lessons I'm learning now that I have time to look back and reflect. Time was always a premium, often escaped me, and I did not manage it well. I enjoy getting out and about, meeting folks and being more social again, but strangely, I find it is a hindrance to my writing. I understand why writers often get away to secluded locales. It makes sense now. I have been receiving feedback from the people who are following along. I hear you, and I appreciate you and your interest.

I pray that I will be able to continue as long as the Lord gives me the mind and wisdom to write on. Some of these topics are serious and hurtful. I know I need the mind of Christ to write and speak rightly. I pray He will grant it, and I will properly deploy it to edify all of you.

The Best Medicine For Dad's Dementia

Dad was first diagnosed in 2011 with a form of age-related senile dementia. It was mild in nature, and progressing at a very slow pace. In fact, during the years 2011-2013, he was highly functional, capable of independent-living, and performing the role of caregiver for his late wife Peggy. He could drive safely, run errands, garden moderately, and easily perform most basic tasks. During the years 2014-2015, Dad was functional, but needed more helps and reminders to take care of diet, wellness, hygiene, etc. Years 2016-2017 were the most difficult, as Dad eventually required much more oversight and assistance. By late 2017, Dad could not perform any task without step-by-step supervision or simply having someone else to do whatever was needed on his behalf.

Our family knows and believes that he flourished best at home. He was blessed to have limited physical problems and required minimal medical care, especially compared to the needs of many other aging seniors. I have no doubt that the love and TLC of family, along with the familiarity of his home, consistency and order, were the most effective medicines to slow the progress of his disease.

Doctors prescribed 3 different Alzheimer's medications over the course of Dad's illness. He never took all three concurrently, at most one or two at a time. I did some research and reading on Alzheimer's and aged-related dementia, and while future breakthroughs may find preventative and corrective cures, the commonly available medicines are not that at all. They are prescribed widely because the data suggests that some people will respond to the medicines with improved functionality performing their basic life-skills, for up to 2 years or so, during the early phase of the disease. Ultimately, the medicines cure nothing. In Dad's case, there was no noticeable benefit, but since he experienced no difficult side effects, he took the prescriptions consistently until mid 2017 when he lost the ability to swallow pills. He never lost his desire or ability to swallow food, but pills became a problem for him. I did not worry about his self-weaning from them, and continued to hand them to him to "take" simply because, in trying to swallow them, he would always drink a few extra sips of water which was a more important need for him.

My completely biased, non-scientific opinion leads me to believe that other at-home treatments worked wonders: being home, around family, activity, robust walking (all the way until Spring 2017), doing every task he could do for as long as he could do, reading, looking at newspapers/magazines, getting out in public, shopping, dining out, spending time with God's people at the Chapel, and of course, having regular God talks and moments of prayer.

While I would never dismiss the competent advice and help of medical professionals, we must never put our faith in them or their prescriptions. Don't underestimate what your personal investment and TLC can do to heal the heart, mind, spirit, and body of your loved one.

Dad Appeared To "Un-learn" His Life

I have written about Dad's condition, struggle with dementia, and how it effected him. While he did not lose his mind, his memory, or his awareness, he lost the ability to speak or act upon that knowledge. The practical effect was it seemed that Dad went through a process of unlearning his life. That's just a phrase I use to describe what happened to him outwardly.

His dementia was never mere randomness or incoherency, nor did he become an entirely different person. Dad had many talents and abilities, but as the dementia eroded Dad's skill levels, he seemed to change from a mature, self-sufficient man to an adolescent to an elementary school child, and finally a toddler. I knew him as a fully-formed, able man for all of my life. When I moved in with him four years ago, he was about like a mid/late teenager, still highly functional, driving well and safely, but beginning to show the evidence of judgment lapses and gaps in common sense that frustrate us about the typical teenager. Over time, he required more oversight (basically, middle school-like) then onto to more nurturing and re-assuring (elementary-school like) and finally onto the stage of total dependency ( a lovable toddler). He was never a lesser man. He never lost the dignity of God's creation or Christ's redemption, and that's why I say that his dementia added to our relationship. The disease took nothing from us, yet gave us so much more.

One of the blessings I received from living with Dad is that I was given a window into what he was like as a youth, and then a child. It was fascinating! It reminded me that by nature, we are all the same and must overcome, through Christ, the same struggles. At times, Dad could be child-like, peevish, get frustrated, confused, or scared, sometimes open to help, sometimes resistant to help, he could listen to advice or not be interested, could deflect and deny he had done something (even though I always told him, "Dad, you've done nothing wrong; I just want to help if I can"). He showed pride in doing something right or well. He anguished when he knew he had missed the mark on some task. He often wanted to please me by his actions.

It was marvelous. It was a bit mysterious, yet it was miraculous to witness the grace of the Lord sustain us, to help us communicate when words would not work, to read each other, to comfort each other, and to love each other. I always loved my Dad as best a son could do, but the Lord taught me to love him even more, and I thank Him for allowing me to witness my Dad's entire life span and to appreciate his total person. Very few people get to experience a parent in this way. My family and I were so blessed to be given this opportunity.

The Caregiver's Calling: A Privilege Of Service

Caregiving is an awesome privilege and responsibility. What else could I have done that would have been more soul-satisfying during the last four years?

To be an in-home, live-in caregiver requires a personal revolution, not just a new address, but a re-orientation of life goals and a realignment of priorities. The upheaval can be a mutual blessing for the giver and the recipient if you know you are walking with the Lord, that He has appointed this season of service for you, and that you are walking in obedience to Him. Obedience ALWAYS brings blessing.

From the world's perspective, I should:
-make a name for myself
-work a professional job
-earn plenty of money
-live comfortably
-build a secure, retirement nestegg
-be involved in civics
-throw a bone to charity by giving to or working with a community organization

And then, I could think about my Dad occasionally and visit him when it was convenient. Uhh...no thanks!

From the church's perspective, I should:
-pastor a church
-preach/teach 3 times per week
-shepherd the flock
-lead a community outreach ministry
-organize believers and engage them, and of course myself, for worldwide missions

This is usually the stuff of the Kingdom, but knowing what the Lord appointed me to do in this season of life, I would have grieved and regretted every day that I did not obey Him and serve my Dad in his years of need. So once again, no thanks!

I have always received plenty of advice on what to do with my life, and my season with Dad was no exception. Honestly, I'm glad I didn't follow some of the things I heard, from people both inside and outside the church. What many have in common is that they (1) don't know the Lord or His ways (2) don't understand the calling or its burden and/or (3) are too heavily invested in the cares of this world. You can be sure that you are called by God to a task, any task, any ministry, any purpose, when you cannot do anything else. If you try to do anything else, you will "burn" up inside. I will eventually write more about the caregiver's guilt; it is a potent weapon of the enemy. But if you face a care-giving situation in the future, I urge you to heed the call of the Lord and do what He would have you to do. His call on your life may not resemble how He led me. He's Lord. He's in charge. He gets to call the shots. How He led me is not "the" blueprint of His plans for you. A caregiver has to fend off plenty of guilt, whether it is real or artificially contrived. Don't unnecessarily add to it. Just obey the Lord to do what he gifted and enabled you to do.

So, to answer the question at the beginning, I can say without a doubt.....It is well. It is well with my soul.

What Could Have Been More Soul-Satisfying?

A long time ago, I was asked about my life choices, leaving the professional workforce, moving on from a pastoral ministry, moving on from a missionary church planting ministry, then returning home to help care for my Dad. I am a middle-aged man, in good health with robust vitality, and whether from a spiritual or worldly perspective, I am still in what most people consider prime working or ministry years. So, at my age, with my education, background, experience, the question directed to me went something like this: "at your age, how can you justify not having a job or doing anything with your life?"

As tough or accusatory as that question was to hear, I learned long ago never to automatically dismiss questions or criticisms no matter how they make me feel. We can always learn something, even from the most ridiculous or unjust comments, if we will lay aside our egos to listen, then ask "Lord, what are You saying to me?"

So in this season of life, what should this middle-aged man have been doing other than caring for his Dad and shepherding a church with just 2 members, Dad and me?

Work a professional job? Earn alot of money? Build my retirement nest egg? Some form of charity work? Pastor a church? Launch a new ministry? Travel the world as a missionary?

What could I have done that would have more soul-satisfying? My next article will answer the question.

It's Strange To Be Out And About Without Dad

Dad and I went everywhere together. Whenever I suggested, "let's go for a ride", "let's go get something to eat", or "let's go to the store", he was always ready to go. He liked getting out, and I wanted him up and about and in public as much as possible. Isolation is an inevitable struggle for a dementia patient and the caregiver, but social activity and co-mingling with others is a balm for both people too. Unlike the Alzheimer's medications Dad was prescribed, numerous things we did likely slowed the progression and effects of the dementia. Interacting with other people and maintaining a public presence was one of them.

I enjoyed being with him in all of these settings. It was fun to sit next to him in Chapel for Sunday services, and occasionally catch him mouthing a few words of a familiar hymn. What a blessing! It was fun to watch him eat at home or in a restaurant. He took his time, alot of it, no matter where we ate. He savored every mouthful, and eventually taught me to take my time too. And I enjoyed going shopping with him. We didn't buy too much on any one trip. We would buy a few items, because it gave me an excuse to go again in 2 or 3 days. We walked all over the stores together, inspecting items, occasionally buying something new to try out, but usually looking at them and giving them the thumbs down. Store managers had no idea how much Dad helped tidy up their shelves. Dad had a keen eye for keeping things in-line. As we walked down the aisles, Dad would straighten up every thing, especially if something was out of alignment. They don't know the identity of their volunteer helper, but they definitely have more work without him.

I miss him in so many ways, and especially when I go shopping. It's strange to walk the aisles without him. I reach for his favorite items, and have to consciously remind myself, "no Greg, Dad doesn't need or want that now."

Caregiving: You Don't Just Turn It Off

A caregiver doesn't just turn off the love and service and then move on to something else when his long-term ministry ends for a loved one. I anticipate a prolonged season of adjustment, listening to the Lord, celebrating our victories, grieving what has happened, and waiting for Him to show me what's next for my next season of life with the Lord.

But to give you an idea of how engrained caregiving forms within your heart, I would give anything to spend another week or day with Dad, going through all of our usual routines, fighting through the daily struggles. It's that good. He's that worth it! Another smile. Another pat on the knee or shoulder. Another morning to watch him gobble up a "sweet biscuit" (Little Debbie snack) with his coffee. Another grin while he's enjoying a meal. Another ride in the truck around town. Another chance to tuck him in bed. No price is too high to pay for that privilege.

Of course, given what he has experienced of the Lord since his departure from our world, Dad would have a different opinion about whether he would like another day of dementia down here. So, there's that, AND that really really does matter, AND that is very very real.

A Humiliation That Dad Never Forgot

Years ago and during the early phase of Dad's dementia, he was highly functional in many ways, driving successfully and safely, caring for his wife Peggy during her cancer illness, and carrying on with life. His forgetful moments were just that, moments, certainly nothing that harmed himself or anyone else. We kept a watchful eye on how he was doing and knew that he would need help eventually, but his regression was slow and mild.

One event, over 5 years ago, stands out in my mind as an important event in this journey. He was a regular customer at a local restaurant, usually preparing a take-out plate to bring home and share with Peggy. He did this often. He patronized that business often. One day, Dad went and prepared a to-go plate as usual, went to the register to pay, and realized he forgot his wallet. He told the owner that he would leave the box on the counter, go home, get his wallet, and be right back to pay. The owner's reaction was cruel, and nothing short of elder humiliation. He ordered my dad out of the restaurant and told him to never come back. If you think that's bizarre, then you are right. If you think there's got to be more to the story, I thought so too, but Peggy, knowing my dad's hearing was not the best, called the restaurant, spoke to the owner's wife, confirmed it happened, and admitted that she could not explain it.

Being the adaptable man he was, Dad carried on, doing his best, and took his business elsewhere. When we heard the story, I was angry. I think all of us were. I thought about going there to confront the man. I thought about waging a PR campaign, and take out a full-page ad in the local paper about how that business treats the elderly, but calm prevailed because Dad's calm prevailed. He was ok, and wanted no trouble and nothing more to do with that business. So, our family (including extended members who also knew) agreed with him that a quiet boycott was enough. BUT Dad never forgot that public humiliation. During my years with him, he often mentioned that he was not welcome at that place, and when he reached the point that he said very little, he would look or point at it and shake his head "no".

That's another one of many reasons I know that Dad did not lose his mind. He knew everything and everyone. He simply lost the ability to act upon that knowledge or express it openly.

Friends & Acquaintances: How The Enemy Sows Doubt

The social isolation a caregiver experiences can produce anger and resentment if the your heart is not carefully guarded. I wrote earlier about the enemy's numerous attacks. Here's another example. He sows doubt that goes something like this:

"Where are all of your friends? They are not really friends, are they? If they loved you, they would not be so distant, would they? Remember all of that love, ministry, concern, and praying for them. Nothing good came of any of that. They could not care less what you are going through. Just admit it.....they are not your friends."

That's evil stuff, eh? Indeed, it is. Due to the prolonged nature of caregiving, loneliness can produce a variety of emotions, fears, and suspicions. It is true that during difficult times friends who love, bless, and encourage will rise above some of your acquaintances who really do care, but are stuck in the struggles of their own lives. So, the enemy's attack is to split your friends, to pit one against another, to stir suspicion and doubt about everyone you know and to paint them all as uncaring users.

Not everyone will bless you with selfless sacrifice, but don't yield to the lie that no one cares. If your satisfaction is not in the Lord, the perception that friends are scarce and distant will wound badly, especially if you begin to imagine falsely that many of your associations are not what you thought they were. The Lord is near. He cares. "Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you." I Peter 5:7

The Caregiver Struggles Too

A caregiver is called to a privilege and responsibility to assume the role of overseer, provider, protector, shepherd, guide, advocate, and more. How "awe"-some is that? It is God-like by its very nature, being empowered with life-and-death decisions, total control of the individual's well-being and care, and given complete authority to dispense mercy and kindness. Only now do I have the opportunity to take a breath, look back, consider the "awe"-some power that was entrusted to me in Dad's care, and to self-assess what I did with and how effectively I utilized that power.

With that power also comes the struggles that every caregiver must face: frustration, fatigue, fear, worry, anger, resentment, social isolation, loneliness, uncertainty, distrust, and self-neglect just to name a few. We live in a culture that is skeptical and/or misinformed about the spiritual world, but we do, in fact, have a real enemy (see Eph 6:11-12). He prowls, he stalks, he deceives, he tempts, he attacks, but no Christian is ever left without the resources of the Holy Spirit to defend against his schemes.

There is an old saying that goes something like "facts don't care about your feelings", and of course, that's true. No matter how I feel about a person or issue, my feelings don't impact or alter the facts. What's true is true....immutably. But when the enemy comes prowling around in highly charged emotional situations, his scheme is premised on the deception that "your feelings won't care about the facts."

There is alot to unpack there. More than my heart and mind can grasp right now, but over time, perhaps I can flesh out more details about some of these individual "awe"-some responsibilities and also some of the spiritual battles that sought to weigh me down.

Dad's Encouragements

My relationship with Dad was never one-sided. He invested alot of himself in it too, and whether he fully grasped all of the circumstances we faced, his encouragements were so timely, as if gifted directly from heaven, which of course, they were.

I don't doubt that Dad could read my frustrations; they usually coincided with his. And if we were having a difficult time, day, or situation, we would manage our way through the trouble spot together, but almost every single time, Dad would give an encouragement. How? What kind? We might be sitting next to each other on the sofa, and he would reach over and pat my knee. He would look at me and smile. He would nod his head approvingly. He occasionally kissed me on the cheek. Cooperation and affection can make any trouble melt away. I thank the Lord for giving my Dad a spirit of consideration and understanding that dementia could not take away. I needed those encouragements, and they were always welcome and timely.

Communication: The Lord Is Able To Speak To And Through Dementia

As Dad and I continued to live together, we grew in grace and in our understanding of each other. I wrote earlier about Dad's substantial, yet inexpressible knowledge, and that awareness kept me from presuming any subject to be off-limits or beyond his grasp. AND I learned to maintain high expectations of the Lord to speak to my Dad through the confusing aspects of dementia. That's why I would often talk to him about current events, or explain something he saw on TV or the newspaper, or talk about the people, family or friends that we know, or read something from the Bible together, or invite Dad to pray with me for a moment. He could handle all of that. He could grasp all of that.

And through my Dad's usually cooperative spirit, contentment, and calm, happy demeanor, the Lord prompted me to keep praying, or read a Bible verse to him, or talk about the future and the things of the Lord, or continue to worship in a believing faith community (the Chapel). The Lord assured me that He is able! He is God. We are not. He could speak to my Dad, in all ways and at all times. I was encouraged to press on in the knowledge of the Lord, and not to underestimate His ability to break through any confusion.

By the way, those words ("He is able") have always been my three favorite words wherever they appear in Scripture. And because of the Lord and Dad, I love 'em even more today.

Communication: When Dad Could No Longer Tell Me What's Wrong

When Dad could no longer tell me what he was feeling or needed, those were challenging days. He knew and felt everything, but experienced the mental disconnect of not being able to express a need. He could not tell me when he was cold, or hungry, or thirsty, or in pain. So, just like the parent of a newborn, I had to read him, his face, his body, his gestures, and his symptoms, and make decisions to meet his needs. The Lord was kind to give me insight often into the things that were not audible, but Dad and I seemed to make the right decisions together.

If we asked Dad a basic question that he could hear, he always managed a one or two word response. Thankfully, he never became completely voiceless, but I had to sharpen my skills to discern his "yes" from his "no". Sometimes, "yes" meant "yes" and sometimes, "yes" meant "no, and of course, vice versa. I had to repeat my questions, press a little, or change the wording to give him a different perspective or impression of the subject, but he and I always got to the truth of a matter eventually.

Sanctity Of Life

Our society is two full generations down the path of devaluing life. Consider abortion, 60 million infant murders since 1973. That's Hitler times 10! Beyond the importance God Himself places on the lives He gave, these deaths have ripped 100 million or more people out of our society, considering the children that they were never allowed to have. The demographic implications of this are enormous. Policymakers refuse to consider the obvious fact that these distortions are hitting minority populations hard, since the abortion industry is a racist construct. But also troubling, we are an aging population with a declining birth rate. This condition places enormous burdens on the economy, healthcare, education, social services, retirement benefits, Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, the job market, tax and spend government policy, etc. Even policies involving immigration and trade are skewed because we have devolved in our respect for life. Child-bearing, marriage, family, fatherhood, and motherhood flourishes when optimism for the future is bright. Despair, doubt, and fear of the future has caused birthrates to plunge in the Western world. Many people fear they will not be able to provide for their own family, further depressing the birth rate in our culture.

Beyond infancy, our culture is stigmatizing numerous people demographics. Young men are being ostracized and discriminated against in college admissions. Soldiers are returning from war zones, with physical and mental injuries, to a country that ignores them. Middle age men 40-60 have seen an erosion in job market opportunities resulting in increased dependence on government benefits. So how is this a disrespect for life? Because the help we offer is welfare and opioids. That leads to depression, despair, suicide, and overdoses. This is one of the primary reasons that life expectancy has declined 3 consecutive years in the United States. We are over-regulating health care. It is becoming too expensive and out of reach for most people. And we have an opioid crisis that is exploding, with the contributing causes being obvious, illegal migration, Obamacare regulations, and the vast expansion of Medicaid. Most policymakers don't care. It really makes you ask, "who and how many people do they want to kill?" by their inaction.

And then let's consider the elderly. This erosion of life and dignity will force a moral showdown in the hearts of everyone eventually. Assisted suicide laws are proliferating. Healthcare regulations and insurance requirements may begin to require cost-benefit assessments on the elderly to determine if additional healthcare and its associated expense can be justified or should your loved one be sent home to die out of sight. Will we respect and honor our parents? Or will we extract what we can from them and then discard them as human debris? There is a growing socialist worldview that is pushing our society to the latter.

I pray God will give you wisdom to value life as the marvelous gift it is. Protect the unborn. Care for the newborn. Shepherd the little ones. Encourage youth to vitality of living through education, work, marriage, and family. Support the middle-aged when life hits hard and hurts. And reverence the elderly with dignity that affirms God's greatness.

Dad's Favorite Foods

Based on the foods Dad enjoyed, he was a true southern man. Fried anything was OK with him, throw in some fresh vegetables, cornbread, and something super sweet, and he was satisfied. But it's interesting and honestly, funny to me, that as his life skills declined from that of a mature, able man to a young child, so did his eating preferences. He lost interest in most foods, the meats and vegetables that he had always enjoyed, and found comfort in chicken tenders, french fries, mac-n-cheese, mashed potatoes, and of course, anything sweet. His eating preferences mimicked children.

Fortunately, he did enjoy soups, chicken-n-dumplings, and chicken and rice late in life, so we occasionally had other options to offer, but when all else failed, Wendy's chicken nuggets, Arby's curly fries, and a cookie made him happy. I occasionally joked that he could have been a national spokesman for Wendys, based on the number of nuggets he ate; sorta like this generation's "where's the beef?" Clara.

His favorite meal became the Wendy's 4 for 4. If he and I were still "pal"-ing around, he would probably have it two or three times this week. Good times!

Christmas Eve 2017: Dad's Last Sunday At The Chapel

When Dad and I dressed and drove to the Chapel for the Christmas Eve worship service, I had no idea it would be the last time that we would do it together. I knew Dad was slowly declining and struggling in a number of ways, and his health was being strained by a long-dormant hernia that suddenly began to cause him pain. During the week prior, the hernia problem led us to the hospital ER to spend several hours to identify the problem and the pain and nausea it had caused.

Dad and I arrived in Santa Claus, parked, and we walked slowly arm-in-arm together through the Chapel garden. We never leaned on each other much, but it was becoming more common. In the previous week, we leaned on each other while walking through two different stores. I kept trying my best to help him get out and about in our community, and he was willing to keep trying too. When we walked into the Chapel, we exchanged all of our usual greetings, smiles, and hugs with other Chapelers, and I walked over to speak briefly to Dad's sister-in-law (his brother's wife). I said to her: "Linda, if you and Billy want to come by the house to see Daddy and spend time with him, the time is now. Come on when you can. I'm not God, and I don't know any more than anyone else, but Dad's days are winding down." I'm glad they came to see Dad and have a long visit with him on Christmas Day. That was a good day for him in many ways.

About halfway through the worship service, my sister noticed our dad was having trouble. The hernia popped out again and was causing him pain. We decided to help him up to go home, but dad was very conscious that it wasn't "right" to just walk out. So, he sat there, even as we tried to encourage him that it was OK to go home. The Chapel is a loving, informal family of Christ-seekers, so I immediately asked everyone to stand up to see if that would help Dad to stand. When that didn't work, someone suggested that everyone walk outside. Everyone walked outside as if we were dismissing, and Dad knew it was OK to leave. My sister and I helped him up and we walked out. Lining the porch, stairs, and garden walkway were all the Chapel attendees praying and showing respect to my dad as we slowly walked through the garden to go home. It is one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever witnessed.

Dad did feel better later that day after a quick trip to the ER where a doctor guided the hernia back into place, and Dad enjoyed Christmas dinner with family and the exchange of gifts, but that was our last Chapel Sunday together. The Chapel loved and respected Dad. For every handshake, hug, or smile he received, he also gave. He loved the people of the Chapel, and he knew that he was loved and respected. That's why he was never confused why we were driving out of the way from Vidalia to gather and worship with others in Santa Claus. The love of Christ can overcome any obstacle. Love is winsome. It draws us. Dad knew that. Dad received it. Dad gave it. Dad welcomed it, and I did too.

30 Years From Now?

I wrote about a quiet saying that I learned to mumble to myself on challenging days; something like "remember 30 years from now". Translation: "Greg, get a grip. Calm down. Today's struggle is not a big deal. The Lord's got this. Think about the future, 30 years from now, when you hope that someone, likely a stranger or a nursing assistant, will show you kindness and patience when you grow weak."

My experience with Dad led me to think about the future. That future belongs to the Lord, is foreknown by him, and He calls the shots, but if he allows me to live here another 30+ years, I will eventually grow weak and struggle to care for myself. Without a next generation to step in and assist me, I know that I may enter a long-term care facility. I'm OK with the possibility. In fact, if I begin to falter, I will research the facility where I want to spend the last season of my life and admit myself there.

I already pray that I will be cooperative, gracious, and maintain a winsome Christian witness, and that the Lord will put some angelically kind strangers in my life to be gentle and understanding of my limitations and struggles.

Dad Knew Alot More Than People Thought He Did

I wrote about Dad's decline in skills and abilities, but I want to provide more information. Dementia involves a wide spectrum of conditions and effects on those who suffer through it. In Dad's case, he actually knew more than people thought he did.

When Dad would forget something or someone, some folks wrongly assumed that he was "losing it", but in dad's case, that's not true. Yes, his skills and speech eroded, but he still knew alot and was situationally aware. Even when he reached the point that he could not say our names, or his name, or outwardly express that he knew who we were, he still knew who he and we were. He knew how to do alot of things, but he was no longer able to act correctly upon that knowledge.

So, how do I know this? The Lord intervened to help me understand last summer. During a difficult day, Dad and I were struggling to accomplish basic tasks. He was frustrated, and so was I. Not much seemed to be working well for us that day. Dad couldn't speak to tell me his thoughts, but his mind was working overtime, as were his gestures. I knew he had a message for me, and the Lord broke through to speak through my dad's face and eyes. I heard him so clearly without saying a word. He knew. He knew me. He knew himself. He knew how to do the tasks facing us that day, but he was trapped with knowledge that he could no longer express or put into practice.

For me, that was one of our many "come to Jesus" moments. I hugged him. I told him I understood. I calmed him, and me too. I told him that we were alright, that the Lord was taking care of us. I told him "Daddy, nothing you do is wrong! We're just going to take care of this little situation and move along with our day."

It led me to often mumble to myself something like "Greg, get a grip. Just think about 30 years from now." I'll explain the meaning of that in a future post.