three different bones in my foot. This is apparently becoming an annual event
as last year, I broke a bone in my ankle. This time instead of tripping on a rock I dropped a table on my foot.
I usually get a quizzical look when I tell people that,
so I will explain it a bit better. I was doing volunteer work at church and
needed a different table than the one set up for me. I flipped the table on its
side to knock down the legs and dropped the table on my foot.
I used to teach at the school connected with this church,
so I am quite familiar with this table and have, over the years, flipped it on
its side many times without incident. However, I am old now, and I forgot about
the weak grip in my right hand from a different injury. I could have asked for
help. I should have gotten help from the church’s administrative assistant, but
I was arrogant enough to think I could do it on my own.
Now they won’t let me move tables at church anymore.
I am reminded of a sweet exchange with my Mother-in-law
several years ago. Here is the story in an excerpt from my book on caregiving called Weary Joy:
Sometime after her dementia diagnosis, Dorris’ sense
of balance became compromised, and her health-care professional wanted her to
use a walker. Dorris was able to walk reasonably well but she occasionally lost
her balance. When she stood up to walk, she did not feel like she needed her walker,
so trying to teach her to use it was a challenge for everyone in her care
While Dorris was not successful at remembering to
use her walker, she did remember the struggle. One day, with determination in
her voice she announced, “I want my bicycle back. If I can get back to riding
my bike, maybe I can convince them I don’t need my walker.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I replied (p. 83)
Dementia is a strange thing. It steals away your
ability to make new memories, but it doesn't necessarily impact your
determination. I think our sin creates a kind of behavior
dementia. We so easily forget our weaknesses, but we retain our determination to fix things on our own.
We forget that we have sinned in the past and
that we will do it again.
We forget that our efforts to stop sinning have
been in vain.
We forget that it is not possible for us to
create a life that is good enough to get us into heaven.
We forget, over and over again, that we need
It seems reasonable to our puny human brains
that we can take charge of our faith life and be kind enough, well-meaning
enough, study scriptures enough, attend
church and partake in the Lord's supper enough to slip into heaven in spite of
our sins. We really, really want salvation to be about us.
When salvation is about us, we have a sense of
When salvation is about us, we can afford to
When salvation is about us, we can check it off
of our "to do" list.
When salvation is about us, we can feel good
But salvation is not about us. Our only
participation is our desperate, constant need for a Savior.
Salvation is about Jesus. It is about a love so strong, He came to earth as a
helpless infant to meet us in our frantic need. It is about a perfectly lived
life and perfectly endured death performed in our place. Salvation is about
Jesus' resurrection and His act of love taking the place of our sin,
weaknesses, and failure. Salvation is about love.
I do not like growing old and finding more
things that I cannot do as well as when I was younger. I don't like having to
ask for help. I don't like thinking of what is around the corner for this old
lady with osteoporosis and questionable eating and exercise habits. I don't
like any of this.
However, when it comes to my salvation, I must
tell myself that it is good to be dependent on a God who loves me and sent His
Son to die for me. It is the only solution, and it is the best feeling ever.
Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
have no good apart from you.”
As for the saints in the
land, they are the excellent ones,
whom is all my delight.
The sorrows of those who
run after another god shall multiply;
drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
their names on my lips.
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant
I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
your presence there is fullness of joy;
your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16
Weary Joy: The Caregiver's Journey
by Kim Marxhausen