Perishable Items

Much to my dismay, I've discovered that nothing is safe for disposal in our trash. At least not when my hubby is around. My daughter, unbeknownst to me, threw a desktop calendar, the kind that covers your whole desk, in our outdoor trash bin the other day. Dean rescued it and now has it on our dining room table for doodling purposes. Sigh...

But this behavior doesn't surprise me. I've been "hiding" our trash for some time now. It started with our empty toilet paper rolls. Anything cardboard, if it's dry, is salvageable to him. Then it moved to plastic  containers (any size, shape will do). Including the containers that come every day with his "meal on wheels". These items are taking up the space of a whole cupboard now. And at times I hardly have room in my refrigerator, because of all his bottles which he fills up with water. Making them look useful, I guess.

I've found some devious ways to fight this, because reasoning with him about it always falls on "deaf ears". Gradually removing some of the items secretly, leaving some prominently displayed, so it looks like some of his treasures remain, is my best option. Otherwise I have learned to "bury" trash pretty well. I've even been known to dispose of items in the middle of the night, before the trash company picks it up on the curb.

As I think about Dean's tendency to save things these days, I'm reminded of God, who thankfully also has this problem. God evidently is passionate about saving people. It says in II Peter 3:9 that He is "...not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance." I'm sorry, Satan, you can't change this about God either. God consistently is in the business of pulling people out of the garbage so they won't perish. That's just who He is. He doesn't make disposable people.

"Unplug for a Day" Challenge

This has been the summer of the ice bucket challenge fundraiser for ALS. All month I've seen friends douse themselves with ice water to raise awareness of this neurodegenerative disease that eventually results in total paralysis. The ice water is apparently to remind them of the nerve-shocking effects of ALS. What a successful fundraiser this has been for their organization!

I wonder, what kind of fundraiser would be useful in making others more aware of symptoms of dementia and brain injury? Short term memory loss, in and of itself, doesn't sound too frightening, but I'm sure there must be something that would allow one to experience the life changing event that it is.

Perhaps the activity that would most closely simulate what it's like with dementia would be to "unplug" for a day. No electricity, no technology, for a whole day.

I will attempt to relate this to Dean's present life:

• Without proper lighting, our senses would change...Dean has this challenge with vision in only one eye and with little periphery vision in the other. He falls a lot, just like we might in the dark. His other senses suffer too. Limited hearing in just one ear and having no sense of smell are what he lives with every day.
• No electricity would make our daily tasks more challenging...Dean has difficulty with many chores we take for granted. Taking a shower, for instance, is a major undertaking.
• No technology means no cell phone or computer. For us, this would be very limiting, especially if all our contact info is on our phone...Dean misses every day the enhanced communication and socialization that these gadgets bring into our lives. But not having a cell phone or Blackberry for some might be like having part of their memories erased. Say hello to Dean's world.
• No television or entertainment...Dean's greatest desire is to interact socially with his friends, and this has become more and more difficult as dementia takes over his life. He misses this activity as much as people would miss their television programs.

Yes, Dean misses out on a lot in life: his senses, ability to perform simple tasks, being able to remember what he did just a short time ago, and just interacting normally with others. In a sense, he has become "unplugged".

But God has not left him powerless. Many times angels have kept him from falling. He has a faithful wife caregiver who is able to perform the work he can no longer do, and most of all, he has retained his desire and ability to worship God. Human relationships may have suffered, but his spiritual relationship with God has never been better.

If caregiving for Dean has taught me anything about life, it's the meaning and value of being "plugged" into God.

P.S. Remember to donate to www.biane.org

Pill Panic

Don't know when I've felt such panic. The other day when we came home from the drug store with some new pain medication for Dean, I asked where the pills were. We had only been home a few minutes, but he announced that he had hid them. My heart must have skipped several beats when I immediately began every persuasion known to man (and woman) to get him to reveal the hiding place of his new powerful drug.

My first instinct for the hiding place turned out to be correct, but I didn't let him know that I had already located them in the top drawer of his dresser. I needed his willing compliance if I was going to be the administrator of this medication, a very necessary measure due to his memory issues.

And the "memory loss" argument finally won him over. By the next day, when he went to his adult day program, I had convinced him that I would put the amount of pills in the pill bottle that he needed just for that day, and hold the rest aside in another location (undisclosed to him, of course).

But then, I noticed that he was getting easily overdosed with the two pills he was allowed, resulting in slurred speech and being uneasy on his feet. So, I came up with an idea. A deceptive one, but necessary for his health and safety. I switched the few pills in the bottle to Tylenol. And if I felt he should have the "real stuff", I could give him one (just one) along with his daily pills in his pill organizer. (There's so many in there already he surely wouldn't notice one more.)

At one point I was wondering if my little "scheme" would be undetected. Because the Tylenol pills look totally different than the "real" pain pills. Different shape, different size. Would he trust me enough to accept the change without questioning the different-looking pills? Fortunately, I don't think he has so far even remembered that they are different. So, the crisis has been averted for this round.

Isn't it nice that our great God-Caregiver has the power and knows us well enough to give us substitutes when we need them? I pray that I can trust God enough to look out for my welfare, especially when my ability to make wise choices is seriously impaired. God has the situation under control, but we do need to reveal our "hiding places" and willingly allow Him to administer His will.

our trusty pill organizer, where one more pill won't be noticed

Phone Misuse

I've been having issues with Dean's phone use lately. First of all, a presenter at the Alzheimer's meeting that I attend now and then told us about all the scam artists that prey on seniors, many of them via phone calls. It's made me nervous about Dean answering the phone on his own. He's pretty vulnerable to that sort of thing, as we all are. Even though he doesn't have a credit card number to give out, he still knows his social security number, and on good days other personal information that shouldn't normally be given to strangers.

The other issue is when I get personal phone calls. I've caught him listening quietly on the other line--in other words, eavesdropping. He's lonely, so I understand his need to listen, but it's been very hard for me not to be impatient with him about this. I've admitted to listening to some of his calls (see first paragraph), but told him I would try to make sure he knew I was listening. And he should let me know the same. It's not polite to listen on the sly.

But what about our conversations with God? Isn't it wonderful that the Holy Spirit is there to make sure all our prayers are only heard by God Himself? No scam artist can reach us on that privileged prayer line. And no one can eavesdrop without our permission. Our personal prayers are always just that, very personal. I'm assured that one area of my life, my relationship with God, will always remain private.

 

Toddler Behavior

This morning Dean was a bit of a "behavior problem child" (my new term for it, after observing the actions of my just-turned-three granddaughter). He flared up, just like a toddler would, when at one point he didn't get his way about something, and then resorted to pushing my buttons repeatedly in childish retaliation.

In my earlier days of parenthood, I probably wouldn't have been so patient. But I guess I'm just more mature now and have had LOTS of patience practice, so I was able to just ignore his silly antics. (Just in case you're wondering, he kept rolling his window all the way down while we were on the interstate, hoping I'd complain about all the hot air blowing on us.)

He apologized for it later in the day, for which I am fortunate. Not all caregivers are blessed with someone still capable of heartfelt remorse. It's nice to have his spoken requests for forgiveness, along with his often-expressed words of love. It makes caregiving so much more bearable.

I can understand God's patience a little better through this. He keeps His merciful forgiveness available to all who simply ask for it. And besides, He's had eons of patience practice under His belt. It pleasures Him to receive our repentance, but I'm sure it also pains Him immensely when we fail to reciprocate His love by neglecting to express our love and praise to Him for all He's done.

I still made him a special Fourth of July meal. Feeding him is my number one way to keep him happy and well-behaved!

The Gift of Hope

Yesterday I went to a great support group for Alzheimer's and dementia. I knew the facilitator of the group and she asked me to talk about caregiving. We did discuss many aspects of caregiving, such as how it has changed over the last generation or two, what some of our common problems are, what feelings all caregivers share, and how to recognize signs of burnout and prevent it.

I was a bit more nervous about presenting to this group of seasoned caregivers. It was quite unlike the group of mixed, women caregivers at the women's retreat last fall. I pressed for more discussion this time, instead of waiting for questions at the end. So they actually carried the show and it went very well. Everyone had something to contribute--ideas and examples that spoke for themselves.

One thing I did notice though was how easy it was to veer off the topic of caregivers and start talking about our care recipients. They just were welded into the equation and you couldn't really separate the two. We exist because of them. The feelings and burdens we have are directly tied in to the persons we care for.

And there's nothing wrong with that. As a matter of fact, that's what makes family caregivers such good ones. We already have a bond with these individuals, which makes our loads easier to bear.

I'm sure God's sacrifice for us was made easier because of the tremendous love He has for His created beings. There was a close bond between us from the moment He breathed into Adam the breath of life. We should not wonder at the lengths God, the Father, would go through to not only save us, but to care for us from day to day.

Sure, God can't make everything smooth and happy for us all the time now--just as we can't make everything pleasant for the loved ones we care for. But God has made promises for our future--a future so bright, it's beyond our imagination. And isn't that the best gift we can give and have as caregivers? The gift of hope.

Energy for the Walk

Dean had a gloriously wonderful time last Friday on the Senior One-Mile Walk. We got to our designated meeting place with Pastor Andy, but I neglected to remember how close it was to the bakery. I turned my head briefly and Dean was in the shop, ordering himself a pastry. He offered to share with me, and I readily agreed, mostly to lighten the damage for him.

Isn't that what God is all about? He shares our fate, by allowing His Son's cruel death on the cross. Anything to lighten our burden. Thank you, God, for being the Ultimate Caregiver.

I watch our calories. Dean consumes them.

Walking a Mile in His Shoes

I should have known last week, when Dean insisted on buying himself a pair of tennis shoes, that he was serious about the annual one-mile Walk for Seniors that he signed up for. I've known for awhile that his chore provider, who told us about the walk, and who has been encouraging him to walk and exercise in preparation for it, would not be able to accompany him next Friday, the day of the Walk. And I also knew that our daughter babysits on Friday and would not be able to be his "walking buddy".

Since I'm his "buddy" for so much of life already, I just assumed that it would fall on me to be with him that day. For weeks, I've pictured myself walking by his side, looking for obstacles that he might trip on, making sure he didn't get confused about where he was or how many laps he'd taken, and being there to calm him down if he got frustrated about anything.

All of that I'm pretty good at. But then it dawned on me that the one thing I'm not good at is WALKING A MILE! Even though we'd be going at a snail's pace, I'd be out of breath after the first 30 seconds of walking. I shudder to think how winded I'd be at the end, even with my portable oxygen tank. It would look like I'd just run a 25-mi. marathon without stopping.

So, I broke down a few days ago and asked for help, something we caregivers are most reluctant to do. One of our pastors readily agreed to accompany Dean on the Walk. It's such a relief to know that Dean will be in able hands that day. I can kick back and enjoy the morning. I have to admit I was not looking forward to the dreaded task of walking with him.

Someone else has promised me much needed rest too, a time to kick back. Jesus said, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." He says to take His yoke. Of course, I can't do that without putting my own yokes and burdens down first. Lord, help me not hesitate to take you up on this offer for help. I need to quit thinking it all depends on me, when actually none of it does. It's your yoke I want to wear. Mine is much too heavy. I get out of breath just thinking about it!

Too Late

I thought I was leaving in plenty of time yesterday to make it to the governor's signing of the proclamation for March being Brain Injury Awareness Month at the Nebraska State Capitol Building. There were forces working against me though.

With last month's snowstorm and the cancellation of the proclamation signings that were scheduled then, there were organizations, causes, and consequently people attending for both months. Therefore, I ended up having to park over three blocks away, but thankfully it was on a residential street, so didn't have to worry about feeding a meter.

After a grueling, long walk in the freezing weather, I was approaching the south entrance of the building and I couldn't remember if it was one that had public access. I had always gone in from another direction. As cold as it was and as short of breath as I was, I was dreading having to walk another block just to go in another door.

The thought struck me when I didn't see many people entering or exiting on this side that maybe I wouldn't be able to get in for security reasons. I wondered wildly if it would be this difficult getting in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.

We've been told there will only be one narrow gate to that magnificent structure though. And none will enter who God deems unsafe to be there. Heaven must be free from sin. Talk about a security system we can trust. As we trust God, He can trust us. What a beautiful relationship we can have with Him. And how glorious it will be to see Him signing proclamations throughout eternity.

By the way, I was too late for the signing at our state capitol. Quite disappointed. But was there for a board meeting, so the day wasn't lost.

Where the signing took place

takes up a whole city block!

The Long and the Short of It

This evening Dean asked what we were doing tomorrow. Which is a frequent question of his all during the day, wanting to know what's next on our "busy" agenda. There's usually not much to report, outside doctor's appointments, weekly trips to the library, and home health visits a few times a week.

Tonight though I went beyond my typical answer of "nothing", and changed it to this: "Oh, I take that back, honey. I'm opening curtains, turning off lights, uncovering the bird cage, changing the 'day of the week' display, letting the dog out (multiple times), filling a pill box, taking a shower, doing dishes (possibly twice), washing and folding two loads of clothes, stirring Willy-Nilly (my starter for breadbaking), making some phone calls, paying some bills, giving the dog a bath, putting your shoes and socks on, taking you to the library, cooking supper, taking out some trash, working on a blog, and riding my recumbent bike. And what do you think you'll be doing, dear?"

"Well," he thought ponderously, "I'll be getting in my morning nap most of the morning. Eating. And then I'll be harassing you the rest of the day." He seemed content with his brief, but accurate, list.

And I'm sure God is content with our lists too. The long and the short ones. If we are doing all we can do, God doesn't complain. And neither should I.

Doing "his thing" in the morning

Peace and Quiet

Don't know why I've been in such a dark mood. Yesterday's stop at a rehab center with Dean, which included visiting someone we know in the dementia unit, was rather unnerving to me. That was probably part of it. Just couldn't explain why I was feeling so out-of-sorts lately.

Today Dean had to go get more blood drawn to check his platelets, which were low the last time. And then on to visit his podiatrist for a regular nail clipping. I asked Dean to go into the doctor's office by himself, so I could brood for awhile by myself in the car. I even told him that's what I was going to do.

Just those few moments alone helped. All I did was sit in the peace and quiet. When I felt somewhat recharged I went in to the waiting room till he was done with the doctor. I'm not sure it totally did the trick, but it did feel good to be alone for just a bit. A caregiver has to get respite anyway she can.

I thank God for opportunities of refreshment and renewal. God knows we all need them. I'm sure that's why He gave us the Sabbath. You don't have to be a caregiver to experience Sabbath Rest. It's built right into our week. And it's ours for the taking.

About to Scream

This has to be almost the first time I have titled my post before writing it, but I just had to get "about to scream" off my chest. The feeling is overwhelmingly accurate, but I'm sure it will pass here soon.

I was just called into the living room for the second time this morning. The first time it was Dean announcing that he had spilled a whole plate of scrambled eggs on the floor next to his brand new lift recliner. I reminded him once again as I cleaned it up that is why I ask him to sit at the table to eat. (Keep in mind that he spilled a cup of root beer INTO the chair just yesterday.)

I turn my back and he goes into the kitchen and scrambles another egg, and I find him once again in the recliner to eat it. This on the back of his refusal to go to his adult day program again, even though he is awake and dressed and could conceivably go this time.

Maybe I should have titled this post "Once Again". How frustrating it must be for God to have His children disobey Him repeatedly. I have to consider the patience of God with all of us, or I would not have an ounce of patience myself to handle these events.

But I also consider the problems my brothers and sisters all over the world are struggling with. They make mine seem like nothing. So, as I put all this in perspective, I guess I don't have it so bad. What's a little scrambled egg on your carpet? Who's more important, my carpet or my husband? I told you the feeling would pass.

A Way of Escape

A few years back one of Dean's annoying behaviors was his taking that little sticker that comes on fruit and putting it on the toaster, microwave, or other place around the kitchen when I wasn't looking. By the time I noticed where it was, it usually required scraping to get the offending sticker off. I repeatedly asked him not to do it, but to no avail.

Then one day it hit me that all I had to do was remove and trash the stickers myself, while I was unloading groceries and putting them away. It was so simple. For years, I have been practicing changing Dean's environment, rather than changing Dean himself. This is one of the first lessons for family members of people with brain injury or dementia, but I had failed to apply it in this simplest of problems.

Lately, another problem has presented itself. Dean loves to feed the dog at the table, dropping her choice bits of the food off his own plate. She has put on a few pounds now and I know it's not good for her teeth, but I just can't convince him not to do it. Then I got smart and lately I've been putting the dog in a bedroom by herself while Dean's eating at the table. That will cut down on most of his "sharing" at least.

Both of these examples illustrate good strategies for resisting temptation of any kind. Removing yourself from the temptation or removing the temptation from you would work in most cases, but we fail to think of it in time. That's where prayer comes in. Ask God how to extricate yourself from the tempting situation. He says He will provide a way of escape. And that's exactly how it's done. Simple stuff and effective. But often we go years without thinking of a way to practice it.

No Respite Needed

Life has slowed down immensely in our household. Dean is requiring more of my presence, which has meant more time at home for both of us.

I've often wondered about other caregivers who seem to be glued to their loved ones and can't seem to relinquish them to the care of others so they can have some respite, needed time for themselves to rejuvenate away from home. But now I am coming to see how this protectiveness could easily happen, especially where dementia is involved.

It feels similar to when a child has recurrent nightmares. As a parent, you feel most qualified to calm the child's fears and make them feel safe again. As Dean's caregiver, I feel the same kind of urgency to be that person he looks to, as he faces some of the altered thoughts and vivid dreams he has experienced lately.

I'm sure my heavenly Father is just as protective of me. He is always standing by, ready to calm my fears, help me feel oriented, stable, and secure. Thank you, Jesus, for always being on the watch. For loving me and keeping me safe. No respite needed for God, our faithful and devoted Caregiver.

Minnie, our faithful and devoted dog, helps keep watch

Caregiving Etiquette

Finally Dean got to use his Burger King gift card he got for Christmas. We went there for supper today and ate in the BK dining room. Not just drive-thru for this fast-food special occasion. It was a good time to be there, just before the supper rush, and it appeared we were the only customers for awhile at least.

We made our food choices, and Dean was trying to count out the exact change from a handful of coins in his hand. He was starting to get a bit frustrated with the effort it was taking. So I appealed to him to let me get the coins for the cashier, since there were now people behind us waiting in line. He relented and we then proceeded to find a table with our food.

Dean, of course, had his usual large Coke under control, I thought, until he set it down by the tray of food on the table and then knocked it over with his hand, spilling most of the contents, on the table, on the chair, on the floor, and on himself.

With a bit of embarrassment I informed the cashier that we had a rather major mishap, involving Coke spillage at our table. He was so polite and understanding about taking care of it. I hoped it wasn't just an outward showing of customer service etiquette he was forced to adhere to, but that it was evidence of a sincere compassion on two senior citizens, who were just doing the best they could.

I hope I can exemplify this in my life as well. I pray that my patient and loving behavior doesn't become just an outward showing of caregiving etiquette that I'm forced to adhere to, but that it stems from an overflow of loving patience that my heavenly Father has exhibited toward me, and continues to show each and every day of my life.

Sleeping the Day Away

I want so much to report on Dean's health condition and say that the puzzle has been solved, but I'm afraid that might be a bit premature. He's still sleeping an enormous portion of his days away, but is awake several hours during the night. There is just nothing I can do to make him stay awake during the day or to make him go back to bed at night.

We went to the doctor's Thursday, and after urine and blood tests, we still don't have a clue as to what's going on with Dean and why he's showing such magnified symptoms. The symptoms aren't new, but they certainly are increased in just the last couple of weeks. We're adjusting the dosage of a couple of medicines that might help.

I stayed home from church because I don't feel comfortable leaving him for even a little while any more. He is so disoriented and confused when he is awake. Especially when he first gets up.

Another picture puzzle is being worked out on my dining room table. But the biggest puzzle of all is once again napping his day away in his recliner. Our daughter and the two granddaughters came over, but even they could not keep him awake more than a few minutes.

I'm sure God must be puzzled over a lot of His beloved children too. He tries for years to wake them up from their spiritual lethargy. We Christians sleep our way into spiritual lukewarmness. I pray God will not only wake me up, but that I can stay awake as long as time allows me on this earth and that I can serve Him to the fullest right up to my dying breath.

One of the few times he's been awake!

Our Most Holy Brain

Two days ago after Dean's bath aide and nurse left the house, he questioned his memory by asking me if that was his nurse Carol who just left. I gently corrected him with Carla's name. He has had Carla come to the house every week for over a year now and still has trouble remembering her name before, during, and after her visits.

Imagine my surprise and shock when Dean left the doctor's office yesterday by shaking hands and saying "Good-bye, Cori" to the young man who was shadowing his doctor. They had just been introduced once at the beginning of our session. Was it a "white-coat" syndrome? Or just a fluke? I had to smile.

With Dean's array of symptoms lately, mostly involving sleep, appetite, and memory, he's proving to be quite the medical challenge for his doctors. As a matter of fact, the psychiatrist yesterday said he wants to research the medicines out there for what would be best for Dean.

The doctor did ask if it was possible to manage his diet better. I almost laughed. My full-time occupation is managing his diet. We mostly try to have regular, healthy meals, but Dean is just hungry all the time. I mean literally all the time. And with his memory getting worse, he asks for another meal, almost as soon as he's up from the table. I have been welcoming the end of the month when our cupboards are almost bare. At least then I can honestly say, there's nothing to eat.

And then there's his sleep habits lately. I would have thought that going to his day program yesterday and staying awake all day would have meant a good night's sleep and getting back to a healthy day and night pattern of sleep. But here he is sleeping the day away again. Barely staying awake long enough to eat his meals. One day I tried three times when his Meal on Wheels arrived to get him up to eat at noon. If he's maintaining his weight, we can thank his new sleep habits. Except he's missing out on exercise through inactivity too, so muscle weakness is also a concern.

I'm not sure what the doctors can do, if anything, to fix these medical problems for Dean. Our bodies, as we age, are deteriorating. There's no stopping the natural process of life and death.

But Dean illustrates to me just how important our brain is to our overall health. If our bodies are considered the temple of God, then surely the brain must be the Most Holy Place in that temple. We communicate to God through our thoughts, our brains. He resides there as surely as His glory shone above the ark of the covenant. Today and each day, I must be careful not to defile it.

Our Old Man

What a nice Christmas Eve dinner we had with family last night. I actually added two leafs and brought the dining room table into the living room, so we could all sit at the table to eat for a change. Was worried that the encroachment on Dean's living space might upset him, but since it came with the hope of some good eating, he was fine with it.

Then the star family members were two hours late in getting here. Another worry that Dean might not be able to handle the frustration that brought. But once again, I fed him tidbits and promised much more just as soon as they arrived, so he stayed remarkably cool about the delay.

In setting the table, I made sure that no bowls that people needed help dishing up were in front of Dean. I was going to give him a fork like the rest of us from the set, but then thought I better ask him and sure enough he required his own special fork, which I hastily switched out for him. I set him on the end of the table with ample room to maneuver around his chair. Then I made sure that salt and butter were placed at both ends of the table, right near Dean's place setting, to forestall any discord about passing them.

Surprisingly, he asked for black pepper though, which we hastily got from the kitchen for him. When he was done seasoning, his plate resembled one big deviled egg. He choked on the first bite of "black" mashed potatoes, but to our amazement managed to devour all the food on his plate.

Opening gifts later was a cinch. There were just enough chocolates and candy gifts for Dean to open to keep him happily satisfied. We all tried to oblige him when he offered us chocolate covered cherries, as stuffed as we were. Just to prevent him from eating the whole box himself. At least we prevented a few of the pieces from getting to their victim.

From the sounds of my report, this whole event revolved around one old man. But maybe there's something instructive and symbolic about our family's involvement in taking care of this old man of ours. Christmas is about a Baby, but it's also about the Man we call our God. Shouldn't all our activities focus on Him too?

The Gift Card

Last year we received a gift card for $100, and I held on to it until a really valid need came up. As a matter of fact, it's been so long since we got it, I have even forgotten who gave it to us. I finally decided that new eyeglasses would be my Christmas gift this year and went in to pick out the frames today. My old glasses have been held together with electrical tape for months now.

The price of each tri-focal lens was fifty dollars, so that helped me decide that the gift card was destined to be used for this purchase. That and the expiration date on the card being 2020.

God's gift card of salvation waits around til we choose to use it too. The expiration date on His offer is our own expiration date though. Maybe we shouldn't wait around too long!

Flip-flops in December

It was with great pleasure that I turned Dean over to our daughter's care today for a few hours, in return for my watching the granddaughters last night, while their parents did some grocery shopping. It would give me a chance to get some shopping done as well.

I noticed when I took some trash out earlier that the weather was warm enough for my preferred footwear of flip-flops and the absence of coat, jacket, or sweater. Being the carefree soul that I am, I chose to wear the flip-flops while on my errands.What a great feeling to be so lightly attired, and in December, no less. I even left my hair down, just giving it a few strokes rather than twisting it up in my usual bun.

So I went dressed for the sixties, weather-wise. But didn't realize that the background music that played in the store while I shopped would be your classic oldie-goldies sixties variety also, with all the tunes I listened to as a teenager. I soon found myself mouthing the words, tapping and almost dancing to the music over the intercom, while I shopped for the items on my list.

Keep in mind that I was in no way a surfer girl or a hippie in my youth. But like most young people, I listened to the music of the times, and with such repetition that here I was, almost half a century later, remembering the words verbatim and enjoying the beat and rhythm of the tunes. They are embedded in my memory forever, even though I stopped listening to popular hits when I became a Christian in the seventies. What a scary thought that these songs are still with me.

With this in mind, I must be honest with myself. The only music worth listening to is the music that praises God and draws me closer to Him. Lord, help me avoid Satan's trap of worldly music whenever possible. Let me save my memory for you, Lord. For music that uplifts You and is fit for the ears of angelic choir members.