A lot to be thankful for

After 15 months, Dad still wonders where Mom is, when he can go home to the farm and why he is in "the hospital." Dad suffers from dementia.

When Mom passed suddenly last year, it was quickly evident Dad would need a new solution to the daily care she so lovingly provided. The four of us siblings searched together to find the best assisted living home for Dad. Each day one (or more) of us visits to help him acclimate to his new apartment, work through his grief and reminisce about the earlier days, the days his mind remembers well.

Dementia has stolen so much from him. It saddens, angers and frightens me to see what he and other residents have to deal with daily. How frustrating it would be to not know how to find your own room, how to use a phone or a TV remote, or recall the peers you eat with daily!

It's heartbreaking to hear him say, "Where am I? Do I have to stay here tonight? Where's Mom? You're not coming back until tomorrow? That'll be a long day without you!"

But somehow God has allowed this cruel disease that kills brain cells. God has taken home Dad's wife, caregiver and best friend of 65 years. But I know God is sovereign. His thoughts and ways are so high above ours and I know we'll all be together in Heaven one day. All our lives we are learning to trust God with our whole being. Is this meant to be one final, advanced lesson in trust?

Each day when I come to visit, I see Dad's whole face light up when he sees me. It is the best welcome ever, and is usually enough to draw him out of a sad or confused moment. What a treasure that greeting is each day!

I ask him if he'd like to go outside, and watch freedom come over his face as he walks through the door saying, "Oh, it's so nice out!" We sit and listen to the birds, watch the clouds or jet streams, and occasionally see deer. "This is Heaven on earth," he says without fail. "We have a lot to be thankful for. Thank God for everything."

And I am so endeared to these moments. I realize that no matter what chaos dementia has caused, Dad is able to draw on his deep-rooted faith, his belief in a God who brings peace, order and meaning to life.

We sure don't have all the answers, but we do have a lot to be thankful for.


Sovereign God, I am so thankful for my Dad, for my faith, for your daily provision as we abide in you. I realize that my parents have been teaching me to abide in you for years. And my Dad is still teaching me. Thank you, God, for everything!

Lingering words

Her words stung, even though she probably meant no harm. Still, I couldn’t help but feel defensive. What should I have said to better explain? I couldn’t think of the right words, so I stayed silent. Now, that conversation kept replaying in my head.

As I shoveled the snow from my deck, the stinging words came back to me again and again, like the repetitive motion of shoveling and dumping off snow. Because my mind was not otherwise occupied, her words intruded on this peaceful setting. The fresh fallen snow was fluffy and plentiful, and the sun was now shining through the trees, every bough laced in white. Despite the beauty all around me, my mind was focused on petty things.

Then I had a very strong impression in my spirit. “Why would you let her words linger longer than Mine?”

Right. So right!

I read every morning about God’s unfailing love, His abiding strength, His perfect direction, His freely given wisdom, His bountiful blessings and His promises to restore and redeem, and bring beauty from ashes! Why, oh why, aren’t these the words that keep circulating in my brain?

“Why would you let her words linger longer than Mine?”

Thank you, oh gracious God! Yours are the words that are worth repeating.

I so need to stand guard against the wiles of the evil one who uses these tactics to distract me from all that is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy! If he can get me to ruminate on a few words from a conversation, social media post, movie or any other lesser thing, my mind will be engaged with that instead.

But what power there is when I realize this intrusion and swoosh it out (like sweeping the last of the snow from the deck), replacing it with trust and peace, abiding in God’s loving words.

Lord, I will let your sweet words of everlasting love roll around again and again in my mind. Forsaking all others, I will give your words the place they deserve.