Slogging through Jell-o. That’s what riding my bike felt like earlier this week. I noticed my speed was reduced. I had to use a lower gear. I couldn’t ride as far. It was hard work.
I had missed a few days of riding. Did it really make that much difference?
It was breezy out. Was I having that much trouble riding into the wind?
I didn’t want to bike if this is going to be my new normal.
Today before riding again I thought, let me check my tires pressure. You guessed it; they were very low. I inflated both tires. Mounting my bike, I turned out of the driveway. I felt like I was flying. The gentle breeze brushing my face was a delight.
Nearing the end of our street, I had to change gears because pedaling was too easy. I rode farther than I have in weeks, and my speed was faster.
Riding, I reflected on this day—the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. It is a sobering day for me as a Christian, and I know what happens tomorrow! I wonder if the disciples felt a little like I did earlier in the week. The air had gone out of their life.
Their joy was gone. Jesus was gone. Everything was different, harder, and more troubling. Was it really worth going on if the Jesus we followed was dead?
In the first century, this was a dark and hopeless day.
But hold on . . . don’t give up now.
Joy, Hope and Grace await.
Cross photo by eberhard grossgasteiger on Unsplash
I’m tired, I’m worn. These words by Tenth Avenue North in their song, “I’m Worn” could be the mantra of every caregiver. The song continues, “a heart that is heavy; worn from the work it takes to keep on breathing, your soul feels crushed by the weight of this world.”
Do you wonder if the struggle of therapy appointments, equipment that needs repair, insurance pre-authorizations, specialists being far away, personal care attendants not showing up, or IEPs will ever end?
Not all of us feel this way, or at least not all the time. When these feelings strike me, I try to remind myself that there is a day when the struggle will end. When our hearts that are frail and torn can be reborn. Until that day I need to remember I am not alone in caring for my husband. God cares more for each of us than we could ever care for one another.
Let’s look at a few ways that God is our caregiver:
He gives us rest – Mt 11:28-30 28 Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
Jesus invites me to 1) Come to him 2) Work in unison with him (that’s the yoke part) and 3) Learn from him.
He sent the Holy Spirit to be our comforter and counselor – to live within us and empower us. John 14:16
Jesus is our advocate- those of us in the disability world understand advocacy. The Bible says Jesus is our advocate when we sin– how’s that for getting the best? I John 2:1
Alpha Omega – He is our bookends, He was there in the beginning and created us. He’ll be with us in the end. And He sustains us through every breath in between. He NEVER leaves us alone. Rev 22:13
He’s preparing a place for us – that’s pretty cool. Have you ever felt like you just don’t belong here? To some degree we all have. That’s because this world is not our home. Here on earth, we may only get glimpses of the rest that we will enter into in Heaven. John 14:1-4
Can you imagine a better Caregiver for you or your spouse? Won’t you join me in taking His counsel from Matthew 11:29 and let Him teach us how to walk in the rhythm of rest.
“Their marriage was a blanket of grace that had been so many years in the making.” Home for Christmas by Melanie Wilber.
I love that imagery. There’s something so cozy about curling up under a heavy blanket that provides warmth for the body and the soul.
I read the quote to Jerry and asked if it provoked any thoughts. He responded that grace develops over time. The longer we are married, the more grace abounds.
So true. It’s not the time alone that increases grace in our lives. It’s the way we handle the little moments that seem insignificant, the everyday occurrences, and the monumental memories or stories that grow bigger each time they are recounted.
I envision our marriage blanket of grace as a quilt top secured to a fuzzy soft velour backing. I wrap myself in the snuggly side and ponder the memories and meaning of each quilt piece.
I see a piece of the blouse I was wearing on our first face-to-face date.
There’s a fragment of his sweatshirt I wore camping one weekend. Oh, how silly I was waking him up in the middle of the night to ask if I could take it.
Satin and lace from the ring pillow made by a friend and carried by another friend at our wedding.
Fabric from the shirts I made for Jerry in our first year of marriage. And to think our friend who was years ahead of us in marriage told Jerry to enjoy them now because I’d never make another. Four years ago I made him two more, just to prove our friend wrong!
Tears fill my eyes as I see the pictures printed on muslin scattered throughout the quilt. Our first home together. Posing at the accordion statue downtown before we moved away. Minor to major league baseball games. Visits with family, cruises and beach vacations. Not only is each picture worth a thousand words, but every photo also coveys a bushel of grace.
Other pieces of the quilt came from event t-shirts we served in together.
Oh yes, that scrap is from a favorite dress that fell off the bed and got caught in wheelchair tires. I remember laying on the floor cutting it apart to free his wheels to turn.
Snippets of hospital gowns one of us donned remind me to be thankful for good health now.
A section of a guest bed sheet helps me recall the hundreds of people we have hosted in our homes.
A strip from one of Jerry’s wheelchair bags brings to mind that life is made up of day by day activities.
That corner of a kitchen towel is reminiscent of all the messes and memories we’ve made sharing meals.
There are many more pieces to remember, but not today. Instead, my focus turns to the stitching holding it all together.
Copious amounts of love, prayer and grace are in those threads to be sure. But the thin strand is strengthened by forgiveness, patience, acceptance, honesty, integrity, mercy, tears of joy and pain, growth, battling through loss, laughter, and celebrations. I wonder what we will add in this new year?
What are some pieces that comprise your marriage blanket of grace? I’d love to know.
For some people recent weeks have held visions of sugar plums dancing in their head. Not at our home. We were, and still are, full of Christmas cheer, and deep gratitude for the gift of Jesus. But, when not thinking about Christmas words like Hulu, Netflix, Streamers, Sling and antenna have been bantered about in the search for an appropriate tv service. The goal is to find the one that will get the right sports channels for Jerry and the preferred chick flick or lifestyle channels for me.
At the suggestion and experience of a neighbor we went with an antenna. It appeals to me because once we pay for the sevice, there is no monthly fee. Less cost comes with more experimenting to find just the right angle to place the device. If we point the device just 3 or 4 degrees to one side or the other we gain or lose channels.
But you are not reading this to get a television service recommendation. And frankly, I don’t have one to share. As often happens for me, God used this experience to teach me a lesson.
This morning I was moving the antenna around the house to get the clearest and greatest reception.That’s when it hit me – the antenna is like my heart! I want to have the strongest possible connection to my Lord Jesus. Too often I allow my heart to be led astray by something shiny or intriguing, taking it just a few degrees off center. It is subtle, but that small change in focus compromises my relationship with Jesus. Sounds like something he warned us about in the Bible – no one can serve two masters.
Maybe I’ll like this antenna deal more than I thought. Not for what I can view, but for the reminder to constantly re-calibrate my heart to stay in tune with my Lord.
I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.
Sunday mornings. When Mom lived with us she was always ready for church earlier than she needed to be. To pass the time she would sit at the piano and play, and sometimes sing favorite hymns. I treasure those memories.
If it was good enough for Mom, it’s good enough for me. I have picked up Mom’s tradition. While playing Christmas songs recently I was reminded of the old hymn, Thou Didst Leave Thy Throne. If you need a refresher, click here to listen.
I love the way this songwriter takes us through the entire Gospel message in one song. Jesus left his home in Heaven, never being truly at home on earth. He gave his life at Calvary and now prepares room for me where he will one day call me to live.
The choral response to each verse of this amazing story is:
Come to my heart Lord Jesus, there is room in my heart for thee.
For several days I have been pondering how much room I have made in my heart for Jesus. That has to be the first step – my personal relationship. But next has to come the question – how much room is there in the heart of our marriage for Jesus today? Is it more today than there was yesterday? Or last Christmas?
As we celebrate the One who left His Throne for us, Jerry and I will be looking for ways to make more room for Jesus in our marriage and home. Won’t you join us?
Building memories, that’s what we did last week with three of our grand nieces and nephew. We explored, created, laughed, played, and wore one another out. Periodically I would think how I wished God had allowed my parents more time with their grandchildren and great grandchildren.
Preparing for a three hour car ride home, twelve year-old Katelyn, asked Jerry if she could borrow a Bible. Jerry showed her a shelf of Bibles and invited her to take one.
After I delivered Katelyn and her siblings safely to their mom, I checked the car for any left behind belongings. It was then I noticed which Bible she borrowed. It was Dad’s; the last Bible he used prior to his passing in 2001. I remember buying it with Mom fourteen years earlier.
Katelyn, her siblings and cousin never met their great grandfather. It’s bittersweet to think about how Dad would have impacted all six of his great grandchildren’s lives.
Wind whipped around me as I stood in that parking lot and told Katelyn whose Bible she used. Tears of joy warmed my face, and my heart as I realized Dad’s legacy does live on. Through the notes and markings he left in his Bible, he continues to invest in the lives of his family.
Merry 19th Christmas in heaven Dad. Thank you for example. I imagine it will be many more years before you get to meet these amazing kids when they are called home to heaven. What a joy it will be to worship as a family the One who reconciled God and man (a nod to your favorite Christmas song – Hark! The Herald Angels Sing).