When the Helper Becomes the One to Help

A year or so ago I took an informal survey among my caregiving friends asking them to complete the sentence, “You know you’re a caregiver when . . . ”  The responses ran the gamut from humorous to painful to thought provoking.  They were also plentiful.  If you’d like to read the compilation of all the responses, click here.

Over the last week I have been thinking about one of those responses, “You know you’re a caregiver when you consider your own hospital admission as a vacation.”  Tomorrow I am scheduled for some routine surgery on my foot.  Recovery will put me out of commission for a couple of weeks, but I am looking forward to the rest.

We’ll be in good shape though. Jerry has an excellent team of friends who will graciously step in and cover for all his attendant care needs.  Work is at a place where I can manage a little more time off and ministry events should not be effected by my recovery.

But then the tricky part for me came – I had to acknowledge that I will need some help.  See, it is much easier to acknowledge that Jepush for helprry (or anyone else for that matter) needs assistance.  I have no problem asking for someone else.  As Jerry and I talked we realized that meal help would be needed.  It was a huge challenge for me to contact our church’s meal ministry and ask for a few meals to be provided for two weeks.  It is hard to go from being the caregiver to the receiver of care!

I thought back to other times I’ve had a medical need and how did we do it then?  I don’t remember doing all this scurrying around to prepare the house, or the need to ask for meals.

That’s when it  me – this is the first time I’ll be “down” for a time since Mom has gone.  Two and a half years later and we are still hitting a new “first.” Once again I am grateful in hindsight for ALL she did for us that I took so much for granted.  I wonder if God can let her know that I realize it now?

Yesterday I had a melt down of worry.  Jerry was a bit under the weather which totally changed all our plans for the day.  I wasn’t ready for that – I had my agenda of what needed to be done, and how I needed him to be ready to take care of me. And just like the caring Daddy He is, God met me right there with Luke 12:22-34.  Worrying won’t help me one bit, and in fact can harm me.  Our Abba Father, Daddy God knows our needs and He is m
eeting them.

In fact, once I pulled myself together and the day moved along I was blessed by so many people offering to help us in so many ways.

I am aso grateful that we are not alone.  We are surrounded by a church and friends and family who will and even want to help us if I’ll just let the stubborn pride drop and be willing to acknowledge I need them.

Hands Help Represents Question Human And Solution



Published by JemB

I am wife to one amazing man Jerry, sister to one very gracious woman, aunt to the 13 best nieces and nephews (including grands!) out there, and thrilled to be reconnected with our two "daughters of our heart!" Best of all, I am a child of the King. I don't always see myself as a princess, but my Dad is Creator, Sustainer, Lord and King. I was built to encourage and connect people - especially those affected by disability.

2 thoughts on “When the Helper Becomes the One to Help

  1. LOL. I had an emergency appendectomy in 2007 and I was EXCITED that for 36 hours I could push a button and someone brought ME a tray of food. Plus as an added bonus the remote control for the TV was all mine. It felt like a spa treatment. Of course my break came to a screeching halt as soon as I got home. But it was nice to be away from home even if I had to have surgery. We’re told to take care of ourselves. Somehow I think that the trick is to stay out of the hospital.


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