There is much to do today and coming to this place seems difficult lately, but I am drawn here, to type out words that will be sent to the other side of the screen where you are. Even with all the negative non-personal side of social media, I still find great encouragement here. I find comfort in reaching out, in being honest, in publically working through struggles, fleshing out my faith. Thank you for the grace you give in return.
Yesterday we got the news that Dad was not recertified with hospice. What that means, among other things, is that we must find a replacement for his wheelchair (read about it here) and his special mattress by tomorrow. We are hoping that the facility will be able to find a good one in their inventory. This change in his “status” reminds me that we are on a long journey, much longer than we had thought. I am not always okay with this. There are more days than not when Mom and I feel like Dad responds more positively to others than to us. That’s not always easy to take. Last night as I went into Dad’s room to grab his blanket, my eye caught a little sign on his bulletin board. He may have given some of you a copy at some point… “For this I have Jesus”. Can I be honest? I struggled with that thought for a moment or two… for what? for sitting in a nursing home unable to walk, talk, and be totally dependant on others… what exactly does that mean? It reminded me of another question I asked and Mom’s response.
This morning’s reading in Jesus Calling by Sarah Young, could not have been more timely…
Approach problems with a light touch. When your mind moves toward a problem area, you tend to focus on that situation so intensely that you lose sight of Me. You pit yourself against the difficulty as if you had to conquer it immediately. Your mind gears up for battle, and your body becomes tense and anxious. Unless you achieve total victory, you feel defeated.
There is a better way. When a problem starts to overshadow your thoughts, bring this matter to Me. Talk with Me about it and look at it in the Light of My Presence. This puts some much-needed space between you and your concern, enabling you to see from my perspective. You will be surprised at the results. Sometimes you may even laugh at yourself for being so serious about something so insignificant.
You will always find trouble in life. But more importantly, you will always have Me with you, helping you to handle whatever you encounter. Approach problems with a light touch by viewing them in My revealing light.
Psalm 89:15, John 16:33
For this I have Jesus!
And as Ann Voskamp says, “thanksgiving always precedes the miracle”.
So let’s walk through this day with a light touch and much thanksgiving in our hearts, expecting a miracle. He has not let us down yet.
Your prayers bring much encouragement… to me, to Mom, to our family.
Thank you. Mean it.
5 thoughts on “with a light touch”
Ruthi, thank you!!! This post, your previous post with your question, and your mom’s answer (oh, my!) — I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. (I feel like I’m going to fall in a heap if I don’t get myself together!) “For this I have Christ” – even when we don’t understand, even when we don’t like how life is turning out. You and your mom are SUCH a testimony to God’s grace in how you are dealing with your dad’s illness. Your honesty with your struggles, your continued faith in God…….well, you are both shining in such a way that we see it and praise God for it. As I have to remind myself every day, God knows what He’s doing, even when we don’t understand. He is still using your parents, and you, to bring Him glory.
Here’s the verse that comes to mind:
2 Corinthians 4: 17 For ithis light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, 18 as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
I’m sure you’d agree with me that our afflictions don’t seem very light or momentary, but I have to believe that one day, when we see that glory beyond comparison, we’ll understand.
Love you, Ruthi! Thank you for being so vulnerable to share. I’ll be praying about the chair and mattress.
Oh, Ruthi, my heart aches for you and your mom as you deal with all these facets of your dad’s
illness. The various entities can seem so cold, harsh and not understanding of your situation. I
know it is difficult to see your dad regress into the old wheelchair and mattress. We ask God, “what
is going on?” “Isn’t he surffering enough without these additional hardships?” You got the answer
right but it is still “hard to deal with”. I remember so many times I would get Hal settled and then
take a shower and cry out to God, “how long will this last”? He always reassured me that He would take care of everything and then, I would sing IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL as loud as I could. What relief that brought me and His peace. Thank you for sharing your heart. It reminds me that
while I no longer suffer with Hal through his long illness, I can suffer with you and your mom through your precious dad’s illness and continue to pray for all of you as God leads you through this long valley.
Ruthi, thanks for your honesty and vulnerability. thinking and praying for you friend! don’t let the enemy have your day. you belong to the King! keep us updated.
What a precious family Art has and I know he is proud of you all. More than that, God must surely be pleased as you minister to your father’s needs and unknowingly to so many others who read your blogs and e-mails. I confess, I had to stop and pray when I seen your post today. I complain and my road is not nearly as full of suffering. Yes! you reminded me, even for my frustrations in life, “I have Christ”.Thank you for your honesty and faithfulness to be a witness all along the way. I’ll be praying about the chair & mattress.
Oh Ruthi – thank you for being so honest. This is such difficult times for you, your mom and the entire family. God is in control even though we don’t always believe it. I love Sarah Youngs devotional book, Im glad you are reading it. I love you and wish I could wrap my arms around you. I’m praying for you, your mom, your dad and the rest of the family. Peace…