Give Me Oil

I was taking a stroll down memory lane today, going through a box of photos that we were given after Dean's father passed away last year. It was so special to see these glimpses into Dean's past, because I had never seen most of them. They were buried in his parents' house somewhere. I had little idea what Dean looked like as a child, let alone as a baby.

My purpose in this activity was to have some of the photos on display when he has his birthday celebration this weekend. But the outcome for me was a melancholy feeling, as I was forced to acknowledge the changes that both Dean and I have been through over the years.

The most striking change was after his accident. Instantly, it seemed, I was married to a man far beyond his chronological years. And I, in turn, have aged much too quickly, due to the stresses of caregiving, and my own oxygen issues.

But there is some happiness in my heart when I remember that we are still the carefree little boy and girl, the shy teenagers, and the purposeful young adults that we once were. They're still inside us somewhere.

Why, just the other day Dean totally surprised me when he found himself under the hood of our car. Granted, it was just to check the oil and add a quart, before we made a short trip out of town. But to me it was noteworthy enough to get out of the car and take his picture doing it. It was so typical of him to do these kind of tasks for us before his accident.

Thank you, Lord, for these little reminders that our bodies may be failing, but You never fail us. You have given us what it takes to survive this aging planet of ours. Help us to be filled with the oil of your Spirit, so we will be ready, no matter what the exit from this world looks like for us.

Can't put on his socks, but can still add oil to a car!

Chore or Ritual

Our topic for discussion tonight at our brain injury support group was sleep. It seems that we all have different sleep habits and strategies for getting a good night's sleep. Sleeping well has a positive impact on our overall physical and mental health, and is especially needed for brain injury survivors and their caregivers. Put simply, it just makes you feel good.

One thing we talked about was what you do just prior to sleeping. My bedtime chore, since I've been on oxygen, consists of setting up my Bi-PAP machine. Filling the humidifier with distilled water, attaching the hose and oxygen tubing, turning on the oxygen concentrator, putting on the face mask, and finally turning the machine on. All that activity was not conducive to sleep, believe me. And I hated it.

But then last year, a nurse introduced me to a new face mask with a design that allowed me to wear my glasses, rather clumsily, so I could read myself to sleep with the mask and machine already on. For five years, I had missed falling asleep reading a book. Now I don't mind the Bi-PAP setup nearly as much. Instead of a chore, it's just my regular bedtime ritual or routine, a positive strategy to getting a good night's sleep.

It's amazing how the same activity can be perceived in a totally different way, simply by my attitude about it. God is the same way. Some think that anything to do with religion and God is not to be desired. That serving God, attending church, witnessing to our friends and neighbors, or having a personal devotional life are hated chores. But when seen through the lens of love for God, the same things are beloved activities that we cherish and adore.

Knowing and loving God is just like a good night's sleep. It just makes you feel good. Your attitude is what counts. Cultivate a loving one.

Ants in the Kitchen

 

No one likes to see ants in the kitchen. For some reason, they have infiltrated mine this past week. First I saw one or two, then three or four, and I don't even like to think how many are at this very minute marching on the wall behind my sink and faucet.

At first I sprayed from a can of ant killer that I had from a few years back. Then my nephew sprayed them with a bigger sprayer we got recently for indoor and outdoor bugs. But we are still seeing them. These are little and persistent little pests. They may be small, but are mighty in numbers. And that's what I worry about most--the fact that soon there will be a vast army of the little critters.

We are tiny creatures too, when you think of the whole, big universe out there. Our real strength is in our numbers. God created us to populate the whole earth. He made us the social creatures we are. But Satan has launched an attack on the human race. He's the great exterminator, and only with God's power can we withstand his assaults.

You've got to admire the tenacity of those tiny ants. So far, they have survived us. Will we survive Satan?