All in Comfort
But, for that instant, I could rest in the quiet beauty when all was well. I must not miss those moments, for they are rare among the rush of the world. They exist as God’s good gifts, like His Son, His Salvation, His grace, His love, and His ever-present counselor, His Holy Spirit.
The emotional and physical toll Alzheimer’s takes on the patient and family is grueling. Alzheimer’s is a cruel illness.
But I have learned to capture some beautiful moments in the conversations I share with my uncle who, for the last several years, has been dealing with the disease.
I put my arms around his trembling body and, as I patted his head, I reassured him we were safe. Soon he fell asleep in my arms. I wish I could be that calm in my storms, I thought, as he drifted into a deep sleep.
My youthful father transformed rugged acreage into a small working ranch. The five springs on the property helped him envision the land’s potential.
Through tears, she told me that her marriage was over. Her husband filed for divorce and the shock and grief shattered her. “Wounds are contagious”, she said. Heartbroken, I prayed for her and looked for ways to minister to her, and my mind revisited that phrase over and over: Wounds are contagious.
Rest for my soul? Soul Rest! Soul Rest just might be the most valuable commodity in today’s economy. It is something I have sought and treasured since the earliest days of my life.
Walking the paved dam between two small lakes, I noticed a family of ducks paddling toward shore. Noticeably, the mother duck led the family while the father duck anchored the end of the line. Several ducklings swam effortlessly between the two.
I watched my mom lose her battle with a wretched disease and yet watched, at the same time, the miracle of life growing inside me.
I watched my friend, Virginia, as she greeted friends at Sid’s funeral. He had suffered a stroke and fought a futile battle for life for several months. How difficult it was for a wife to watch as her husband suffered. Now he was gone.
She spoke reassuringly, “I believe in the power of human touch, and I will be holding your hand during the surgery.”
I could recognize the melody but not the words. It was my son singing his seven-year-old daughter to sleep.
When we moved from a small East Texas town to a huge South Texas metropolis, I experienced some fear at night mainly because my husband’s job included travel leaving me home alone many nights.
My son-in-law built a charming playhouse for his girls. But to my surprise, he recently converted that same little house into a chicken coop! I now believe the chickens’ shenanigans have provided more entertainment than the girls’ playhouse adventures.
It was a Christmas to remember, all right. It is my first thought when Christmas is mentioned. My memories are so near that it seems like only yesterday.
When these words are given at the end of a service you are attending, remember that you are being blessed by some of the oldest words in Scripture. The Aaronic blessing, the oldest benediction in the Bible, was spoken over the people of Israel at the end of the daily sacrifice.
A friend’s daughter posted on social media that she had been pregnant and lost the baby. My heart hurt for her. I know in part how she feels. I have miscarried twice. I remembered those feelings from long ago.
A curveball: “something unexpected, surprising, or disruptive” (online Dictionary). Ever been thrown a curveball, ladies? How about a year of curveballs? Not entirely what I expected of 2021, especially after 2020.
Who do we run to when a problem arises? Do we go to a trusted friend, our spouse or other family member, a neighbor? Often times when seeking answers, we do not exactly know where to turn.
Albert György created a statue to portray his intense grief after the death of his wife. The statue, called Melancholy, is located in Geneva, Switzerland. If you haven’t seen it, look it up. It’s been said the statue’s bowed head, huge hole in the torso, and missing pieces of flesh and muscle express as nothing else the feeling of deep, consuming grief.
