I'm but a stranger here

The phone rang at a familiar time of the day.

"This is Dorris.  I am at some sort of hotel, I don’t know where, and I need someone to come pick me up."

I responded in an equally familiar way:

"You are not at a hotel, you are in your room."

 

"I am?"

"Take a look around.  Do you see your things?"

"Yes, I see my couch and my clothes and my pictures, but .  .  ."

"Nothing seems familiar, does it?"

"No."

Earlier in the day my mother-in-law had suffered through a long eye doctor appointment and now that she was waking from her nap, she was lost and confused.   It is interesting to me that she easily recognizes her things, and often comments that she has her furniture at this "hotel" but, still insists that she doesn’t live there. 

 

One time she remarked that some salesman had made a mint selling black couches, because she explained, " there is a black couch, just like this one, in every hotel room I stay at."

What an unsettling way to live. Familiar objects surround her, but nothing feels familiar. Her brain no longer connects emotions to what she sees. We count on these matching emotions to make judgements about the world around us.  Even as early as a year ago Dorris was calling from her home of nearly 50 years and insisting that she was lost. 

Thankfully, she is blessed with the ability to trust those who care for her. Even though things don’t feel familiar, she is reassured that she is indeed where she belongs.

Some days I read the news and wonder why the world seems like such an unfamiliar place. Even though I sin continually, this sinful world does not feel like home. I cannot stop myself from sinning, but every fiber of my being wants to be in a sinless place. This is a desire born of faith, a desire put into my heart by the Spirit at my baptism. It is an unrelenting desire, and I cling to it.

This world that values materialism over concern for humankind, this world that tries to solve problems with violence and pride, this world that leaves its inhabitants without hope, without joy, without love. My life, my actions, my thoughts - my sins- tell me I belong here.

But, this world is not my home.

Dorris trusts me when I reassure her that she is where she belongs. I trust that my Heavenly Father knows the plans He has for me. I trust that He prepares a room for me and that one day I will be home, where I belong.

Thank you, Father, for creating this home, for giving me the desire to live there, and the trust that you will one day bring me home.

Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.   For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.  Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.  But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.  (Philippians 3: 17-21 ESV)

Birds of the field

Yesterday, I brought Dorris home after a long day that included two different doctor appointments in two different towns. She turned to me with a contented smile and said:

“What a delightful day we have had! What prompted this expedition?”

Trust me, Dorris, you do not want to know.

Truth be told, Dorris had an extremely challenging day. She had an early eye appointment with an Ophthalmologist receiving an injection in her eye. In addition to that treatment, she had to navigate an office system not conducive to working with the elderly.Then, because she had a stabbing pain in her back, I made an appointment with her home town doctor. Her day went something like this:

 

Standing, stabbing pain, walking, sitting, stabbing pain, waiting, pain, standing and walking, pain, waiting, answering confusing questions, waiting, eye drops, waiting, standing and walking, winding around tight corners, pain, listening to directions, waiting, pain, waiting, eye injection, walking, pain-now in both her back and her eye, long ride in car, pain, walking, pain, sitting, answering questions, pain, x-rays, understanding directions, pain, long ride in car, walking back into the building with pain.

Did I mention there was pain involved?

In addition to that, she spent the day not being able to see the trees when outside or to read her paper when inside – her two favorite things.

This is Dorris’ definition of a delightful day. She is such a good role model for me. 

 

Of course, her memory loss is helping the situation a bit. She is able to relegate the recent past to the dust bin that is stuffed full of many other memories. Her memories of the day did not dictate her feelings at that moment as she spent a few minutes outside on a beautiful sunny day. 

I could learn from that.

She has also learned to set aside current anxiety. When the doctors and nurses give her directions she looks at me and says that I will need to be her memory. Then I have to remind the nurse or doctor to write it down, because I can’t seem to get them to remember that Dorris needs memory care and these directions need to go to the good people who care for her. 

Whenever Dorris needs to be taken to another eye appointment, I get geared up and stressed; pumping adrenalin and every other stress hormone I can muster. She just willingly comes along knowing that I will take care of things. She has way too much trust in me. 

I need to pray for some of this trust and forgetfulness. If Dorris can trust me, why can’t I put trust in a God who can actually deliver? Why do I let memories of previous experiences plague me with new worries? 

 

God knows the past, present and future. I can have Dorris’ best interests at heart, but God knows AND accomplishes my best interests. And He does this every day; all the time.

When I sit in a poorly run doctor’s office and wait, I merely fume and stew; Dorris just experiences and lives. A good friend, someone who walked her mother through the journey of Alzheimer’s, recently reminded me that one of the blessings of not being able to create memories is to simply live in the moment. That is a great definition of trust.

 

 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (Matthew 6: 25-34 ESV)

Birds of the air and lilies of the field do not make memories. They live in the moment; doing the work God puts before them. 

I understand that thinking about future needs and planning are important. This is part of good stewardship. I just need to let go of the worry and anxiety parts. 

Which brings me back to God and my favorite prayer:

“I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24b ESV)

Workers in the lemon field

Some people say that when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. However, the age-old adage does not tell you what to do when life squirts lemon juice in your eye.

I recently got some discouraging news; thankfully, not tragic news, but, discouraging none-the-less.  It is news that puts our family in a bit of a financial pinch and feels a bit like a slap in the face. 

I am guessing you have also received news like this in the past.  Let’s give ourselves a few minutes to enjoy a pity party.  No, those are not tears in my eye, just lemon juice.

Okay, it is time to put on our big girl panties and move on.

God will provide for my family.  And if it takes an extra semester to finish my degree, then I will work from the assumption that this is part of God’s plan.  The question for me is why does this event feel like betrayal? Why do I feel like I have been cast aside along with all of my hard work? Why do I feel that evidence of my past good work should have prevented this from happening?

Hmmm, I am thinking the odds are good that this comes down to a sinful flaw.  I am a sinner, after all.

I have been reading and thinking about the story from Matthew 20 about the workers in the field.  The owner of the field recruited workers five times over the course of the day.  Some workers labored all day in the hot sun, some worked about an hour, but they all received the same pay. Harder work, better work, longer work, or even a good report from the supervisor (or, perhaps in my case, good student evaluations); none of it made a difference. There was no reward; just pay for honest work.

I seemed to find myself caught up in the earthly idea of extrinsic motivation. If I work hard, life will give back. If I follow the rules and keep my nose to the grindstone, I will be rewarded and that will make me want to work all the harder.

Hmm, this extrinsic motivation stuff is not working for me.  Moreover, it does not leave much room for faith.

Here is another passage about laborers:

“The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. (Matthew 9:37-38, ESV)

It would be a mistake to read into this verse that God needs us to do His work.  God is God; He does not need anything.  In fact, when we come in as laborers, we just muck things up.  

God does not need us; we need Him. We need to be a part of God’s family and His ministry. We need His mercy and grace.  We need forgiveness and faith.  Even if we work all day, in the hot sun, and find there is no money at the end of the pay line, we still get what we need.

“For we are God’s fellow workers.  You are God’s field, God’s building.” (I Corinthians 3:9, ESV)

This is God’s message to me, today.  I am on His staff.  He graciously gives me work to do.  He blesses that work.  He cares for me. 

No earned reward, just perfect love and loyalty. 

Thank you, God!

Forget or forgive?

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven,
    whose sin is covered.
 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity,
    and in whose spirit there is no deceit.  Psalm 32:1-2 (ESV)

I did it, again.  We had a warm spell and I sent our cat outside for some fresh air.  Then, I promptly forgot her.  Several hours later I let her back in and she instantly forgave me.  She was so excited to be back in the house, to be warm, and to fed that she licked my face clean with appreciation.  She even followed me around, sat in my lap, and purred.  She rarely sits in my lap.  

Her reaction reminded me of a story from THE HOUSE AT POOH CORNER when Rabbit tries to predict a reaction from Tigger:

“Because he’ll be a Humble Tigger.  Because he’ll be a Sad Tigger a Melancholy Tigger, a Small and Sorry Tigger, an Oh-Rabbit-I-am-glad-to-see you Tigger.”  (A.A. Milne)

She forgot I was the one who let her out for so long.  She only knew she was glad to be let in.

We moved Paul’s mother Dorris into a memory care facility last week.  It took only half a day, but it was a busy day.  She and I sorted through her clothes to winnow things down to a more manageable- easier to pick something to wear- number.  We got her into her new room in time to eat lunch with new neighbors and left her hoping she would settle into a nap. 

 

By 7:00pm that evening, she called me over to her new residence.  She could not settle down because nothing seemed familiar.  She did not know anyone, and was convinced no one knew her.  When I got past the locked door and came into her view she came at me so fast I thought she would fall over from pure momentum.  She greeted me with:

 “I am so glad to see you!”   

She followed me around.  Then she gave me a hug; she rarely gives hugs.

We found an employee and discovered that this kind person did indeed know who Dorris was.  We walked to her room and I let her talk and wind down while one-by-one I turned out the lights.  It seemed vaguely familiar to the procedure for calming my daughter towards sleepiness when she was younger. 

I could not give Dorris what she wanted: her home, her memory, or even a familiar place.  I was one of four people who had created this misery by moving her for the third time in a little over a year.  Nothing made sense; not even my calm resolute responses to her complaints.

Yet, she was glad to see me. 

We have a Heavenly Father who never forgets.  He never forgets who or where we are.  He never forgets our needs.  He never forgets to bless us.  He never even forgets the number of hairs on our heads.

Yet, He willingly forgets our sin. 

We sin against Him, against our neighbor, and against our better interests and God forgives us and welcomes us with open arms.  He sets aside His omniscience, His perfect and complete knowledge of everything, in order to look at us with love and grace. 

We did not just accidentally leave God locked out of the house, or even move him to an unfamiliar place.  Instead, we killed His Son.

And because of the death and resurrection of His Son, God is glad to see us as His perfect children. 

He is glad to see us.  He is glad to see us, every day. 

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and all that is within me,
    bless his holy name!
 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits,
 who forgives all your iniquity,
    who heals all your diseases, Psalm 103:1-5 (ESV)

May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light.  He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son,  in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. Colossians 1: 11-14 (ESV)