Change can be Good

We've come to the end of another Thanksgiving weekend--the first Thanksgiving in many years that we've stayed home for the holiday. Usually we travel over the mountains, through the woods, and on the ferry to my parents' home on Washington's Olympic Peninsula.

This year, Mom wasn't feeling up to having company. Understandable. She's still recovering from a mastectomy in August on top of the ongoing demands of caring for my dad who has dementia. I left the decision about Thanksgiving to Mom. We didn't want to add an iota to her already overloaded plate of responsibilities...even though I would've loved to cook up all the traditional Thanksgiving fixings for her and Dad.

One night after I talked with Mom, I woke up with that unsettled feeling that I've experienced more frequently. I recognize what it is--anxiety about my parents and how I can support them. Almost immediately, a phrase popped into my sleep-clouded thoughts: Change can be good. I remembered Patsy Clairmont at Women of Faith speaking about change and the positive outcomes it can bring. 
 
Sometimes we get tunnel vision and we only see the bleakness of a situation. Dad and Mom alone on Thanksgiving...would Mom even want to cook? What if they had to resort to frozen dinners? That's when I realized I don't always consider the God- factor...how might He use this for good? How will the situation change when He shows up? What if the change I've been dreading or feeling sad about is the change that is most needed?

It all comes back to trusting God...no matter what is happening around me. I must believe He will always be there. He knows all the ins and outs of every circumstance. My abilities and resources are limited. His are boundless.

When I called Mom on Thanksgiving, I asked her if she was cooking.  No...she didn't have to do any cooking. Her neighbors were bringing Thanksgiving dinner. "They insisted," Mom added.

Wow! The Lord had taken care of Dad and Mom without me making any arrangements. Changing our Thanksgiving plans had given Mom a much-needed rest--and the ability to be blessed by her neighbors. I breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to remember--yes, change can be good!

Is there some change in your life you're dreading? How does considering the God-factor help you face uncertainty? 

Blessed are Those who Mourn

I've heard it said there's a point in time when we become a parent to our parents. I know this in my head. My heart doesn't want to accept this role reversal. I'm only too aware that we're all aging. Years have passed by in a blink. I'm resisting. I want to be the child, not the responsible grown-up.

My parents are in their mid-80's and both are facing health issues. My father was diagnosed with Pick's Syndrome(a form of dementia) about six years ago. The disease has progressed slowly, but steadily, without compromise. My self-assured Dad whom I've loved and always counted on is slipping away. I came across a letter he wrote me before dementia took its toll. Dad, I miss you!

My mom has been his primary caregiver and she's understandably exhausted. Taking care of dad has been grueling. Once there was a season to focus on marriage, children, careers, social events, being part of a church family. Then one day you wake up to a parade of doctors appointments, pill-taking, cleaning up incontinence messes and washing soiled linens and clothing. It's painful to watch your parents struggling. We've asked the typical questions: What should we do? How can we help? Is it time for Dad to be in a nursing facility? Lord, please give us wisdom, strength, courage.

My friend Sarah lost both her parents during the past two years. She has been a source of comfort and strength. Last weekend, we enjoyed an oasis of rest and refreshment. A new friend I met in May at the Northwest Christian Writers Renewal invited me to come visit and bring a friend. So I did. Little did I know how Divinely appointed our weekend would be.

Sarah asked if I minded visiting her parents' grave with her. The cemetery was located in a nearby town. First we stopped at Joanne Fabrics to pick out silk flowers. We found the perfect bouquet of pink azaleas--60% off. Sarah

commented on how her parents always liked a good bargain. It felt good to laugh.

We stood together looking at the simple headstone with two names carved in granite. A photo of a young obviously-in-love couple made me smile and cry at the same time. I cried for myself, pre-grieving the loss of my parents. But feeling more strength to step into the caring role God has for me in this season of life.

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.Philippians 4:13