A Plan

I'm getting excited thinking about getting a bathroom makeover. Thanks to Dean's Medicaid waiver we qualify for more accessible facilities. Our current bathtub requires a 20-inch leg lift from the floor just to step into it. The shower chair and grab bars just aren't enough these days for safe bathing.

Plus they are going to give us a wider door and entryway for the bathroom that will accommodate a wheelchair should one be necessary at some point in the future. This may sound like an expensive project, but it really beats the cost of a nursing home; so I'm sure it will save in the long run, even if it only means one of us can stay home one or two months longer than we would without it.

Taking care of our needs both now and in the future reminds me of how God takes care of us. He looks out for us in the here and now, which is where we stay focused most of the time. But He also has our care mapped out for us in the future. I'm trying very hard to trust in His time schedule, because I know there's no way I could improve on it. God's clockwork is impeccable. The longer I live, the clearer it is to me that God is as powerful and omniscient as we've been told.

Pen Passion

Dean was at the height of his "caregiven" glory today when his bath aide, nurse, and chore provider all happened to have him on their schedules for the same time. Four pretty women in the room all at once, he said. Smart of him to include his wife in the count.

Most of the home health people know by now that Dean has a passion for ink pens. Every time they get him to sign something, which is at the end of each visit, he makes an effort to beg, borrow, or steal their pen. He has a thousand persuasion strategies, and he uses them regularly and systematically.

First, he tries to inadvertently lay their pen on top of his own ample stack after the signing, hoping they won't notice. Then he appeals to their pride by admiring their pen's qualities, but quickly shifts over to a pity plea by mentioning how much he needs it in his collection. Next, he lays a guilt trip on them by referring to the other nurses and doctors who have been generous in parting with their pens. Keep in mind there has been laughter, a strategy in itself, between each of his ploys, so by now many a nurse just throws in the towel and either sacrifices her own pen or promises to bring him one the next time she visits.

Isn't this how persistent I should be in wanting the Holy Spirit in my life? How many strategies should I be using in order to win the victories and peace that only the Spirit can offer? I believe my prayer tonight will not be over until I have gotten either the prize or the promise from God, the Comforter, my Holy Caregiver. Where's the passion?

One of his many boxes of pens..look carefully--one might be yours!

Pushing Pills

I have come to see how really freeing it has been to have home health nurses visit our house every week. Our regular nurse, who usually fills Dean's pill organizer, wasn't scheduled to come last week and I forgot to ask the other nurse till it was too late. So Sunday morning I was up bright and early, sorting and filling the pill box. It felt odd doing it myself again. I had mixed feelings.

I had some guilt feelings about having the nurse do it in the first place a few months ago. It's not much work really. Plus at first I was worried she would make mistakes. It was hard to turn over the responsibility to someone else. I had so much ownership in it.

I slowly enjoyed not having to "push" the pills into that little box though. And then the feeling suddenly hit me this week that maybe I deserved to be free of the task. After all, I had done it religiously for over ten years. It's about time to turn it over to someone who will get paid for it.

The bath aides who help him shower three times a week have also been a blessing. They not only relieve my mind about him falling in the shower, but I don't have to argue with him about whether to shampoo. They keep track of it in their reports. How many years I have struggled with these issues on my own. It's nice to have reinforcements there to lighten the load even a little.

All I can say is that God knew when the time was right for the nurses to come on the scene. It wouldn't have happened if Dean hadn't fractured his foot last summer. Of all his falls over the years, this was the first one resulting in a fracture. Also, our case manager was temporarily changed, and she was experienced enough to know that we needed help around here, so she arranged for the home health agency to offer care.

All was ripe for this intervention and I have no doubt that God, our primary Case Manager, was overlooking the whole operation. And will continue to do so...

Sin Smells

Our little dog Minnie got out of the house unexpectedly today when we weren't looking. I was about to praise her for coming back on her own, until I smelled an unusual odor coming from her direction. You guessed it. She had found a lovely, dead something and felt the need to immerse herself in the foul carcass. This usually happens close on the heels of a bath. For some reason, she must have missed having a scent all her own, so she had to go create a new one. She somehow sensed another bath was in the offing, so we had to trick her into the bathroom for a repeat bathing treatment.

Isn't this like the human sin experience? We repeatedly go out and get ourselves tainted with the foul odors of sin, then submit to the cleansing of the Holy Spirit once again. But fortunately, we have a Father God, who overlooks our frailties and loves us anyway. Just like we still love our Minnie, even when she smells like a dead mouse.

Fur Types

Today I gave our little dog a bath. She is such a tiny thing, only about five pounds, so bathing is fast and easy. Her fur is so thin and fine, compared to the Sheltie we once had. I can't help but notice the difference in bathing, based on fur type alone. It took forever to just get the Sheltie's fur wet, and after soap was applied, rinsing was equally time-consuming. With Minnie, it's just get her in the tub, zip, and we're through. Even drying is a shorter process.

What does all this have to do with you and me? I think we all have different personalities and needs, just like fur type. Consequently, some of us require more maintenance to keep our relational and emotional forces working properly. Do we recognize which of our friends and loved ones are those requiring more maintenance? Or do we even care?

This holiday season I should take a closer look at my card list, address book, Facebook page, and all my methods for keeping track of friends. It won't hurt to make a phone call, write a little longer letter or email, or even visit in person those who need a little more maintenance. It will mean as much to me as it will to them. I'll enjoy richer and closer friendships, and it will be as nice as having a clean-smelling dog around the house.