Trust for a member of the Sandwich Generation

Most of us in the “Sandwich Generation” are between parents and children. My husband and I are sandwiched between two moms. Dorris has fallen nine times since January. My mother has fallen twice in that time; on the second occasion, she broke her arm. So far, this is the year of falling.

Dorris has learned to relinquish control. This was not easy for her as she was the directing force in Paul’s family. She organized, she prepared, she took care of details. Because of this, the family ran smoothly. She also used this gift in her many hours of community service. As she aged, and her dementia progressed, she had to learn how to give up control.  This relinquishment started with the car keys. It was not easy. It took a drive through the front door of a restaurant and several conversations with her children and her doctor, but eventually she relinquished control over that part of her life. Throughout the progression of her illness she has been a coping model for how to let go of control and accept trust.

My mother’s situation is very different. She is mentally ill and when under stress, her view of the world is twisted and torn. She is currently at a rehab facility to receive physical and occupational therapy. Earlier this week I arranged to take her out to lunch. When I came back the next day to pick her up I found a very different person. She had been told that she needed to stay a few days longer than she hoped. This caused her stress and anger which when mixed with her bipolar illness and break through the threshold of her medication.  She accused the facility of giving her a faulty bed, which did not allow her to sit properly. She was certain that she alone was mistreated and that everyone was working together to make her life miserable. She directed her anger at me when I asked questions for clarification because this meant that I was on “their” side. She was so angry that she would shake her head in her balled-up fists when she talked making it impossible to hear her. This from someone who, 24 hours earlier, had no complaints about her care.

I tried several techniques that I have learned from my life of living with her illness. I tried to calm her down with a soft, reassuring voice, to no avail. Simply listening and accepting her distorted view did not ease her anger. Even asking her if she still wanted to go to lunch sent her in a tizzy because I “should have known” her answer. A change of environment did not distract her and when I tried to talk about a different subject, she simply redirected her anger. At the point at which she started talking to herself, I knew our lunch was done. I returned her to the facility and let the nurse know I suspected she had moved into a manic state.

When I was a young child I used to accept blame for my mother’s anger outbursts – even if they didn’t make sense.  When I became a young adult, I was able to realize that most people have emotions that come as a result of action or events. For my mother, she has an emotion and then looks for a reason to attach it to. She sometimes wakes up angry and because she does not recognize her anger as part of her illness, she convinces herself that people are against her. She also is unable to see that her view of reality is wrong. Even physical evidence does not dissuade her.   

My sister and brother also came to this realization and it is what helps us to survive these incidences. Often we are left with no choice but to walk away. 

The most difficult thing about these episodes is that when my mother leaves the manic state, while her anger will have dissipated, her “explanations” will not.  By next week, she will no longer be angry with me, but she will still be convinced that I was working with the people at the facility to make her life miserable. Over the years, she has lost all trust in me and my siblings because of what she believes about us from her manic states.

This lack of trust makes it nearly impossible to help her. She is at risk of losing her home health services because she does not trust her doctor, her physical therapist, the nurse, the safety inspector checking her apartment, or her children desperately trying to create a safe place for her to return to. She does not like what we are doing and that is no surprise. It is difficult to give up that kind of control to allow others to keep you safe. But, in my mother’s case, when she looks at her world through the twisted view of her manic state, she is convinced that she must be right and, therefore, the only explanation is that everyone else is out to harm her. 

Dorris’ Alzheimers also distorts her sense of reality. She calls us several times a week certain she is at a zoo, at a restaurant, at a hotel, at a library, even a bowling alley. Her brain is certain it has figured out the situation and even when we point out the fact that her “hotel” room has her own furniture, she still does not quite believe us. 

But, she trusts us and that makes all the difference.

Because of trust, she will calm down. Because of trust, she will obey when I encourage her to grab her walker and walk down to the dining room for dinner. Because of trust, she is able to find ways to survive her always-new environment. She never argues with me when I assure her that there is no reason to travel to Blackburn Mo., as her parents are not waiting for her. Even though her brain tells her otherwise, she trusts, and moves on. 

Her life is better, her life is safer, her life makes better sense, because of trust. And because of this trust, it is possible for others to help her. 

Because of sin, my brain is in a constant state of distortion. The fruit from the tree in the Garden of Eden, removed my ability to rest in perfect trust. Because of that sin, I erroneously think I know better than God does. Because of that sin, I have to twist things around in order to explain why they happen. Because of that sin, I fool myself into thinking I know what is best, that I know what to ask for, or that the world needs me to make the “right” thing happen. 

I have replaced trust with manipulation, and that makes all the difference.

We cannot know the real picture. The only way we can survive the world we have fashioned – a world of sinners and sin – is to trust in the Creator instead of the ones who created the mess.

Yet, we are certain that we know better:

If I could do this . . .

If only he would . . . 

When I finish . . .

Yes, but. . .

No, way will I . . .

I’ll give her a piece of my mind . . . 

Why doesn’t God . . . ?

In our efforts to be good stewards, to follow God’s Law, to share His love, we still think we can direct the world. Sin makes us think we need control. Our sin makes perfect trust impossible. 

When cleaning my mother’s apartment, my brother and my son moved a dresser. Underneath I found a card and when I picked it up I realized it was written in German.  I soon realized that it was my mother’s baptismal certificate.  A beautiful reminder from my Heavenly Father that God loves my mother, not because of her actions, but because He is her Father and she is His child.

God loves us no matter what. 

He loves us even when we complain and try to take control:

And the whole congregation of the people of Israel grumbled against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness, and the people of Israel said to them, “Would that we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.” (Exodus 16: 2-3, ESV)

He loves us even when we think we know better:

“Woe to him who strives with him who formed him, a pot among earthen pots! Does the clay say to him who forms it, ‘What are you making?’  or ‘Your work has no handles’? (Isaiah 45: 9, ESV)

He loves us even before we come to Him:

Blessed be the Lord! For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him. (Psalm 28: 6-7, ESV)

He loves us when we are finally ready to relinquish some control:

But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my persecutors! Make your face shine on your servant; save me in your steadfast love! (Psalm 31: 14-16, ESV)

He reminds us that our best example of trust comes from children without the knowledge and experience to think they know better:

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. (Psalm 131, ESV)

He loves us, no matter what. He loves us with a perfect love. We trust Him with an imperfect trust.

At this point I must make my confession. Circumstances in my life have greatly interfered with my imperfect trust. I need God's forgiveness and your prayers to remind me that God has a plan for me to navigate responsibilities and requirements. I need to relinquish control, to humble myself, to obey. 

Thank you for your care and for your prayers. And praise be to God for the blessing of unconditional love.

 Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (I Peter 5: 6-7, ESV)

Herding marbles

Have you ever had an experience best described as herding marbles?

Dorris called, yesterday. When she wanders up to the nurses’ station and asks confusing questions, they ask her if she would like to call family. 

Dorris: Do you have an extra key to my car?

Me: You do not drive anymore.

Dorris: Then how can I get home?

Me: You are home. You have a room with your clothes, a t.v., and your own bathroom. You don’t have a kitchen because people cook for you.

Dorris: I don’t have a kitchen? Then how do I feed these young men living with me?

Pause.

Me: Um, if you are talking about your sons, they are both married. I take care of Paul.

Dorris: Well, of course you do, I was talking about the next generation.

In Dorris’ current world, there are two realities: what she sees in the present, and what she sees in her memories. When she thinks of Paul and Karl, they are about elementary age. When she sees Paul in person, she has to remind herself that this is her son. It is as if she lives in the past and the present simultaneously, and the two do not match. 

It must be a bit like herding marbles on a constantly moving table. She just corrals one group of memories and then the realities of the present go careening off the edge. Grab those marbles and others drift away. You just never seem to get anywhere.

Dorris usually finishes her conversations by telling me she trusts me because I have never steered her wrong before. In the end, in a world where she gingerly steps through the present while the past dances around her, that is all she can do – trust.

My church home is going through strategic planning. We are blessed with some dedicated and visionary members who are leading this process. Today, I participated in a well-run focus group to outline a future direction for our church. It felt so good to be with the people in my group; long-time members with a genuine interest in the church and the spreading of God’s word to the world.

Much like Dorris, we gingerly stepped through the meeting while ideas for what needs to be done danced around the room. Some members want to build the sanctuary, others to clear off the debt, and another person suggested the calling of staff member to work with youth.

Here’s the thing: I understand why churches do strategic planning. I understand why churches need to create budgets and deal with debt. I even understand why we need church councils.

Although, truth be told, I will never quite understand voter’s meetings. 

The problem is, I don’t quite remember any amazing thing that ever came from any of these events.  I can think of many amazing things I have seen and heard at church, but none of them can be traced back to plans, or budgets, or meetings, or committees.

The amazing things simply trace back to God.

I get that strategic planning is all part of serving God, knowing your core values, and being good stewards, but, something doesn’t feel quite right.

I know in my personal life, the more I plan, the less I trust. When I pull back on trust, then anxiety rears its ugly head and that only works to crowd out my faith. When this happens, I spend my time herding the marbles of my fears. Just when I think I have something under control, another part of my plan goes careening off the edge.

How can I know God when I am so busy planning, budgeting, worrying, and working? I am too busy looking at my calendar to see Him. I am too busy making plans for my life to trust His plan for me. I am too busy worrying how I will accomplish what I have started to remember that God gave me faith in Him, in His plan, in His will.

My new theme word is OBEY.  God leads me to do the work He sets before me, and trust in His vision of my past, present and future.

It is not my plan to obey so that God will reward me. I know that I cannot obey without the work of the Spirit. This does not leave much for God to reward.

I obey because it keeps me too busy to groan and complain when things don’t go my way.

I obey because it turns my focus from marble herding and toward God. 

I obey because it gives me something to do while I watch His plan unfold.

I obey because I want to hold fast to Him. I want room for the faith He has given me.

I obey because I am God’s child.

I expect amazing things; traced back to God.

You shall walk after the Lord your God and fear him and keep his commandments and obey his voice, and you shall serve him and hold fast to him. (Deuteronomy 13:4, ESV) 

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. (Hebrews 11:8-9, ESV)

Everyone who believes that Jesus is the Christ has been born of God, and everyone who loves the Father loves whoever has been born of him. By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God and obey his commandments. For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome. (I John 5: 1-3, ESV)

My plans vs. God's plans

My children’s message for church got hijacked by a bowling disaster.

 

It was my intention to talk about marbles, salt, and confessing our sins to each other. I know, that sounds strange, but there was a plan. 

I had the verse:

Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. (James 5:16, ESV)

I had my jar with marbles buried in salt. I even practiced pounding the jar on the floor to make the marbles rise to the top. I was ready to explain that when salt does what salt is designed to do it slips around the marbles and into air pockets and this causes the marbles to rise to the top.

I was ready to explain how we are good at breaking things, like friendships and promises, but we are not so good at fixing things. But, when we do what God designed us to do, when we confess our sins and pray, God brings healing. 

The message was short and sweet and I was ready for anything except the delightfully wandering minds of three-year-olds.

An absolutely adorable child leaned toward me and said “Teacher, guess what?” 

I took the bait and the first story about bowling commenced, followed quickly by five or six more, all spoken simultaneously. 

The effect was suggestive of a preschool class speaking in tongues. There was lots of noise and hand waving. Then someone left to use the restroom. It was a five minute children’s message and I completely lost control.

Although, when you are sitting in front of church with a group of a couple dozen pre-schoolers, “control” is not usually the word that comes to mind.

  

I am pretty sure I could hear the pastors stifling a snicker from behind the lectern.

  

I scrambled to find a way to connect bowling with repentance, prayer, and forgiveness. I scrambled to no avail. And yet, somehow, God brought a message for His little ones out of our bowling disaster.  And, again, I had to remind myself that even when I am doing the talking, the children are probably still thinking about bowling and the Spirit still does His work in spite of us.

God just asks us to do what He designed us to do: repent, pray, praise, love, trust, obey . . .

I thought I had this dissertation thing planned.  I quit my assistantship at the University so I would have more time to write.

Then I lost a teaching contract and had to recruit more work.

I got a chance to teach for the University and set about setting up a schedule for writing.

Then I broke my arm.

I got the cast off, did my exercises, and started writing, again.

Now, my doctor thinks I may need more surgery to release pressure on the nerve.

I planned, by this point, to be done with my proposal and to be busy collecting data, but my plans have been hijacked by life, by my clumsiness, by my trust in my own ability to make plans happen. So, here I am with an arm that types for a limited amount of time each day, with dictation software that doesn’t yet understand psychology vocabulary (that makes two of us) and a huge project waiting to be finished. I have my own sweet version of a children’s message bowling disaster. 

So what do I do? I believe it is simple; I do what God designed me to do. I repent, pray, praise, love, trust, obey . . . 

God’s love and His will for me and my project will slip into the pockets of my disaster and lift me up to Him. He knows the plan. He knows how it will be accomplished, and even why it should be accomplished.

Lord, help me do what you designed me to do.

We have all become like one who is unclean,
    and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.
We all fade like a leaf,
    and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.
There is no one who calls upon your name,
    who rouses himself to take hold of you;
for you have hidden your face from us,
    and have made us melt in the hand of our iniquities.

But now, O Lord, you are our Father;
    we are the clay, and you are our potter;
    we are all the work of your hand. (Isaiah 64:6-8 ESV)

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:1-2 ESV)

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. (Jeremiah 29:11-13 ESV)