My Barefoot Cowboy

I am back to my blogging duties. After two days in Kearney, NE at the sixth annual state brain injury conference, I am ready to settle down to life in the anything-but-normal place we call home.

As at Christmas, it was eye-opening to see the changes in my husband's dementia from one year to the next. My daughter was on hand though to keep him corralled as much as possible, while I depended on people to wheel me to the workshops and meetings with my injured foot.

I knew she had her job cut out for her when the two of them showed up a few hours into the conference with her dad fully dressed, including his cowboy hat, but with BARE feet! It seems he had somehow left his shoes and room key in the motel room after their visit to the hot tub and pool area. I'm also wondering what people were thinking the next morning when he sported a baseball cap under his cowboy hat in the motel's lobby. I guess that was the easiest way to get both items to the car as they were checking out of the motel room.

Kayla summed up her frustrations with him whenever she saw me during the conference and whispered in my ear, "Mother, you are a SAINT!"

Hmmm, Saint Teresa. Has a nice ring to it.

My Caregiver Daughter

Yesterday my daughter got one of the scariest calls of her life. Meals on Wheels called and said her daddy wasn't at home. She couldn't reach us by phone, home or cell. So she loaded up her kids and hightailed it over to our house. We had just come home from the doctor's about my foot. I had no idea our appointment would keep us so long and had forgotten about Meals on Wheels, while I was getting a CT-scan on my foot. Needless to say, she was relieved to find us both alive and well.

This incident did my heart good. I often think I'm the only caregiver Dean has. But there are other family members who help with his care, and would step up to the plate, if needed.

And especially there is a God who is caregiver for both of us. I'm amazed at all the ways He provides. All it takes is a phone call/prayer and God will be right over to make sure we're alright. What a relief to us.

Joy in the Morning

I went to the doctor about my swollen, bruised foot today, and sure enough it has not been healing very well. Besides that, the doctor was concerned that where I'm experiencing pain isn't where they are seeing a fracture on the X-ray. So he sent me for a CT-scan and tomorrow I will see a foot specialist. Besides he wants me to stop taking Ibuprofen and try Tylenol instead. All in all, it was a depressing day. And I am not looking forward to the night.

Psalms 30:5 says, "...weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." How true that is. The birds must know it. Since we've been having spring weather, I've been hearing birds singing very early, at the crack of dawn really. I too look forward to morning. Somehow things just look brighter in the sunshine.

Then there's the resurrection morning. Nothing will compare to the joy on that great morning. There's an event where all Creation will be singing! I want to be part of the chorus, don't you?

Don't Wait

I've done it again. I've waited so late that I know once I get started on this blog, I will be getting too sleepy to finish it.

So, I'll get right to the point. Don't procrastinate. Always do the hard, important stuff first. It's much easier to read others blogs and Facebook posts than to write my own, but it's also important for me to get a daily blog written. Tonight I made the mistake of doing it backwards.

That's the way some people live their whole lives. Instead of making a total surrender to God early, when God can really use them in His service longer, they wait till their life is almost over before they concentrate on their spiritual health. Unfortunately, we aren't always given the luxury of a long life, in order to make the commitments to God and have the relationship with Him that would help us survive this life and live it to the fullest.

Give your life to Him now, or you will have a hard time staying awake and getting it done later.

Which is why this blog is finished for the night. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

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.

My Ice Cream Lover

After visiting the doctor with Dean today, he was begging for some ice cream or a shake on the way home. So I stopped at a small grocery store and let him go in to buy some ice cream, since my foot still isn't very walkable. He had to use my debit card, so he wrote the four p.i.n. numbers down on a slip of paper before going in with the card. I was hoping for the best, the whole time he was gone.

The bag looked quite large that he brought back to the car. Not surprisingly, he also purchased a box of candy and a big bag of chips, along with the ice cream. They were reasonably priced, so I couldn't say much. But I was wishing that it was a loaf of bread instead, being so close to the end of the month.

Isn't this how we all are? We see one thing we like, and then can't resist some more of something else that catches our eye. It's called impulsive buying.

I like the Sabbath because it causes us to slow down and reduces this impulsiveness. On the Sabbath we have a purpose and that sole purpose is to worship our Creator. Forget the trinkets of the world, all the junk foods, all the junk toys. It is God we are to remember. With Him you might not even crave ice cream. Wouldn't that be nice?

What Pain?

My foot is still so swollen and bruised that you would have a hard time believing me if I told you it didn't hurt. My nephew just came home from work, on the other hand, and revealed how bad his back was hurting from his job all day. But you wouldn't know he was in pain unless he told you. Pain can be pretty invisible, except for the person experiencing it.

There's one kind of pain that none of us will ever have to suffer though. And that is the pain that Jesus felt on the cross. Not the physical pain. Because martyrs down through the ages, and even in some parts of the world today, are called upon to endure unbelievable physical torment.

I'm talking about the emotional and mental pain. To carry the guilt of the entire world could only have been done by the Lord Himself. He died the death we all deserve since sin came to this planet. Imagine the most horrible crime and the guilt that must accompany it, multiplied by every person who has or ever will live. And the Bible says He was quiet about it, "...he opened not his mouth..." Isaiah 53:7. It was miraculous that He carried all that guilt and shame for us, but equally miraculous how He carried it.

I'm not saying that we should never share our suffering with others, to just be quiet about it, but let's remember that there are those around us who are suffering in silence. Let's be especially sensitive to their private pain when possible. And every time we alleviate suffering for anybody, it's as if we are doing it for Jesus, who not only bore our sins, but our pain too. Matthew 25:30.

The Battle of Sleep

Last night's blog was so difficult to write, as I kept falling asleep and just couldn't concentrate on the words. It led me to the conclusion that sleep isn't conducive to good, clear thinking. Fighting sleep is a losing battle, and one I'm not anxious to try again.

Today I've been thinking of sleep in the Bible. The seventh and final Laodicean church spoken of in Revelation, chapter three, was lukewarm, but it was no doubt asleep too. That's why they didn't know that they were wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked. The parable of the ten virgins found them all asleep, just before the bridegroom came. Then I thought of the disciples, who were asked by Jesus to stay awake and pray with Him. They just couldn't keep their eyes open. And right before their Lord would be leaving them for Calvary.

How vital it is that we stay awake in these closing hours of earth's history. We need all our mental faculties for the battle ahead. The Holy Spirit is the wakening agent that will pull us through whatever events await us. Pray for it every day and you can win the battle.

Slipping on Slippers

In the morning, I help my husband with his shoes and socks. Ever since he hurt his foot last summer, he needs this assistance, and I'm afraid I have the job for life. He just seems helpless when I try to get him to do it on his own. The shoes are slippers with Velcro. You'd think he could master them. But it's just easier to accommodate him and do it myself.

Later in the day, after he'd taken his slippers off, our daughter and granddaughters came over for awhile. In order to go outside and see them, I noticed that the slippers miraculously appeared on his feet, without my helping them get there. Without even thinking, he put them on all by himself.

Our obedience to God is somewhat like this. We obey each day, with God as our constant Helper. But someday, that obedience will become second nature to us, hopefully soon after baptism, and we will start obeying without even thinking about it. Our will will become so blended with God's will, that whatever we do, it will just be carrying out the will of our Father. Fortunately, we have our whole lifetime to work on this. But the possibility is there for everyone. God makes it possible. We do it for Him and by Him.

God's Garden

All in one day it seems, the peach tree in our backyard has budded and bloomed. Flowers are popping up in the front yard too, each taking turns showing off their bright colors. Crocuses, daffodils, and now jonquils. Before long it will be tulips, irises, lilacs, and roses. Funny how Mother Nature has a way of spreading out her beauty all through the summer and fall, with different blossoms in their different seasons, with none outshining the other.

That's the beauty of the church too. We each have our individual time table to rise and shine for God. None of us making it a one-man show. We're all there to glorify God when the time is right, in due season. If we are planted properly and given the right ingredients to grow, the field will become a glorious panorama of garden splendor and God will be pleased with His wonderful paradise.

Lord, make me a part of that church picture. Help me contribute to the overall effect, in whatever way you show me. Not a lonely blossom, but a part of the garden.

Mountain of Dishes

I made a breakthrough discovery today, which should lessen the dish washing time for my resident nephew who's been good enough to tackle the dishes every night, even after a hard day at work. This morning when I hopped (yes, still doing the bunny hop) into the kitchen, there was a mountain of dishes and pans, waiting to be washed.

So I pulled a chair over to the sink, bent my knee and used the chair to balance myself, so I could at least make a little headway on the cleanup task. It was awkward, but not painful, and I was very proud of myself for improvising a way to help with such an ugly chore. My nephew seemed very appreciative of my effort.

A lot of times we could be doing more for others, but we see the mountain of need out there, and don't think we are capable of making a difference. With a little thoughtful prayer about it though, we might be able to devise a way to help. It may be awkward, not very effective, and a little unconventional, but it might very well be just the amount of encouragement someone else needs to come in and finish up the work.

After all, isn't this how the various ministries of the church are supposed to work? The church family working together can accomplish much.

Holding On

Winter is over, with its icy streets and sidewalks. A real threat to some individuals prone to the worst effects of a fall. How odd that my fall recently had nothing to do with slippery snow and ice; and numerous friends lately have succumbed to the same embarrassing, ungraceful stumbles and tumbles, resulting in various injuries and complaints.

We go all winter without incident, then spring awakens the plant world with temperatures soaring, and next thing we know our feet go soaring. Right out from under us.

Sin has a way of catching us off guard too. Just when we think we are out of the danger of falling, of partaking of some harmful indulgence we have tried to put behind us, we find ourselves flat on our face again. Looking up into the face of God and asking Him "Why me, Lord?"

Most of us have learned that one way to prevent falls in the winter is to wear shoes with some tread and to hold onto something or someone when possible. Can we not prevent some of our spiritual falls by fortifying our minds with some Bible and prayer "tread" and hanging onto Jesus and our good Christian friends like our lives depended on it? And I suppose, as a matter of fact, they do.

A Breathtaking Experience

Having a fractured foot, in addition to a restrictive lung condition (like having an elephant on my chest most of the time), has been a breathtaking experience to say the least. But I have noticed that when I can bear a little weight on the walker boot, I am not so winded when I go places. When I am literally hopping without the boot, I'm huffing and puffing so bad you'd think my lungs were going to explode.

I was thinking about the difference in my breathing effort and wondered if that's how it is with Jesus. Even leaning on Him a little bit brings relief, but imagine how well we can walk through life if we allow Him to carry us entirely. No need to huff and puff and expend all that effort. Jesus has promised to carry our burdens, if we "take His yoke". That means plodding alongside our Lord, every step of the way. He pulls the cargo, we just have to stay in step. I can breathe easier and walk better just thinking about it.

My Walker

Today I drove for the first time since hurting my foot over a week ago. My nephew needed a ride to work this morning, and then later I took Dean with me to the medical supply place to see what was wrong with my bi-pap machine (mini-ventilator that helps me breathe at night). Both trips didn't require any walking on my part. I was able to use the boot enough to get out to the car and back. It still is rather painful to put much weight on it, so I continue to use the walker.

That walker has become my friend. It is parked near me everywhere I am in the house. I store things I might need in the pockets it has on the front. Things like the portable phone, a calender, Kleenexes, a hand towel, and the jug of water when it needs filled. Even my purse is draped on the side.

Jesus is just that kind of friend to me. Someone I want near me, to catch me when I fall, or just be there to lean on. Someone who will adapt to my needs and carry my burdens. Thank you, Jesus, for helping me on my Christian walk.

Strength to Serve

This week has been crazy. I've been "laid up" with a bum foot, and although I've felt pretty helpless, having to ask for things as simple as a glass of water, I've also found that I'm still able to do the really important things I enjoy doing. I've visited with someone in the hospital via telephone. I've had online conversations with friends who have cancer and who have lost loved ones. Also proofread some articles for the church newsletter. Tomorrow I'll be "attending" a board meeting via speaker phone. Thank goodness for technology.

Tonight was the ultimate activity by proxy though. It was the night for our monthly brain injury support group meeting. I was supposed to facilitate the meeting, but that was impossible because of all the stairs to climb to get to the meeting room. Instead I asked the presenter to facilitate the meeting and she said that was no problem. Then, as I normally do, I called those on my list to remind them of the meeting. It was our month to bring refreshments, so I sent my daughter to buy them. Then my husband took them, along with the name tags, the sign-in sheet, and the group guidelines we read out loud at the beginning of the meeting. It honestly felt like I was right there, even though I had to stay home.

I am so grateful to the Lord for allowing me to serve Him, even in my not-to-be-desired feeble condition. It reminds me of the verse in Joel 3:10 "...let the weak say, I am strong." Tomorrow I will complain less of my weakness and know that it can and does lead to strength.

Beautiful Feet

"These boots are NOT made for walking" is the new song title I'm singing today. The nurse told me the fracture on my foot was confirmed. I'm to use the "boot" and get X-rays again in four weeks. Sounds simple, but she had no idea what she was asking. I tried to put some weight on the foot with the boot and it HURTS. So I'm back to hopping with the walker for awhile, I guess. The foot is still swollen and bruised and it's been over a week. What's a body to do? What if my foot never heals correctly?

This reminds me of the consequences of sin. Just like falling on my foot, we often stumble into sin, injure ourselves, and require lots of healing time. God doesn't always provide an instant healing, and we can't count on being relieved of the consequences of our bad choices overnight. All we can do is be patient and wait for the Lord to work things out. It's hard for us humans to do that sometimes.

Think of the angels. They've been waiting for thousands of years for our earth to be made whole again. They must trust that God will make it all right in the end. I guess I'll have to do the same with my foot. God has a plan for me. And I'm sure it requires me to have two working feet. As ugly as one of them is right now, I remember the verse that says "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings..." Somewhere there is beauty in this ugly, swollen foot.

The Doorknob

What good is a door without a doorknob? Especially if the hole is left there for one. The main purpose for having a door is to provide privacy. But without the doorknob, you can not only see through the room, but the door doesn't close very well either. We discovered this for the last couple of days after putting a new door on one of our bedrooms. It seemed pretty vital to purchase that knob and complete the project. So tonight my nephew and son-in-law "got 'er done".

We've all seen the picture of Jesus knocking at the door, symbolizing His need for an invitation to enter our life. The door is important, but so is the doorknob. It reminds us that some action, like turning the knob, is required for the Lord to come into our heart. Only after we have unlocked the door, turned the knob, opened the door, and asked the Lord to come in can the process be complete. So our salvation requires steps of conviction, repentance, faith, and acceptance.

Make sure your doorknob is in working order, and then just listen for the knock.

Group Hug

Today we had two phone calls from our sister-in-law, who recently lost her husband, Dean's brother, in a tragic semi accident. She was just checking to confirm our addresses (Dean's sister too) to be able to send us some items from Dale--the obituary, the DVD of his memorial service, etc.

At the end of both calls, I could tell she was getting choked up and emotional. I'm sure talking to her husband's siblings must be very difficult at this time. I'd like to reach out and help her more, but I know there are others closer by who are able to comfort her as well. It's just hard to give a hug over phone lines. I could reassure her of our love and willingness to talk any time, but sometimes you need that physical embrace to convey the deepest sympathies.

I'm sure this is why God sent His Son to this dying world. He couldn't reach out to us with the hug He was longing to give, so He allowed Jesus to come down here and give it for Him. What love, what comfort, what hope He wanted to convey to His suffering children. Jesus came to hug us all.

Give Me the Boot

How could something that big and ugly bring healing to a foot? I wondered as they put a walker boot on today after taking X-rays again. It's supposed to stabilize and protect the foot evidently and I do need that. I'm still not supposed to do actual walking on it though for awhile, and should try to keep any weight off it until they hear back from the radiologist.

I feel like I'm caught in a time tunnel and zapped back six months ago. For three months I put an identical boot on my husband every day. And doctors were telling my husband the very same things in order for his foot to heal faster than it did. We were all so disappointed when he didn't comply with the doctor's instructions and used his foot as he pleased, instead of staying off it. After a few hours, I was dying to take the boot off. Then it dawned on me how it felt for Dean to want to take the boot off as often as he did.

Now I know why Jesus had to come down to this earth to taste the life that we humans have. It's only when you actually have the same experience that you can really know what someone else has gone through. Isaiah 53:11 says, "...by his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many...". I've often wondered what knowledge this was, but now I understand. It was knowledge of us. He tasted it all, for His friends.

Hopping for Love

Today I have a huge desire to bear weight on my injured foot, against the advice of my doctor and radiologist. I really think I could do it without much pain. The foot's still swollen and bruised, but if there's even a tiny fracture, it wouldn't be wise to walk on it, according to the medical authorities. It would just lengthen the healing time. My husband's foot has taken months to heal from his fall last summer. He never would listen to the doctors and stay off his foot entirely.

I've tried thinking of the reasons why I don't just go ahead and walk on my foot. Is it just because of what someone has told me? Doctors don't know everything. They don't know my body and how hard it is to hop around with a walker with shortness of breath. Actually, the motivation I have for continuing to hop around is that, as a caregiver, I can't afford to be laid up too long. So, I'm basically doing it out of love, I guess.

And isn't that why we keep the commandments of God? We don't always understand the reason for obeying, so it has to be out of love.

Tomorrow I will continue hopping out of love.

Teddy or Grizzly

I can't decide if he's a Teddy or a grizzly...bear, that is. Thankfully, it's mostly the former. The grizzly side only comes out when he gets his fur ruffled. Most of you may have already guessed I'm referring to my precious spouse. I have grown rather fond of his grizzly issues though. They are so short-lived. So fleeting. If you blink, you would be asking yourself, was that a grizzly that just passed by our living room? We see it in children all the time. With most adults, anger is so much more complicated.

I'm not sure where I'm going with this. Just thinking of my Teddy tonight. We both are going through some wild health problems here recently. He doesn't seem to lose any faith over it though. Part of dementia is developing childlike qualities. Jesus said once that we need to be like children to be first in His kingdom.

So, I'm wondering about other mentally challenged adults. That would include those with Down's syndrome and other developmental challenges too. Are they indeed closer to God than we are? I'm sure God has a special place for them in His heart.

Yet they are the very ones our society rejects, bullies, and ignores. Maybe all we're seeing is the grizzly bear and forgetting that Teddy is not far away.

My Own Kind of Dementia

Today was a waiting game. Waiting to hear from the radiologist about my foot injury. I hope tomorrow is the day I get some news on how bad the injury is and how they will treat it. I'm guessing a boot or cast for my foot is in my future, but time will tell how bad the fracture is.

Dean's caregiving for me is coming along fine. He loses his patience alot, but that is nothing new for him. It's harder for me though to keep mine, because my expectations are that he will care for me with no complaint. But I know deep down that just is not going to happen. I try not to take it personal.

His frustrations are mostly with himself. He can't hear me from another room (well, I'm sorry, but I can't leave the room I'm in). He forgets what I've asked him to do or the task seems too complicated for him to follow. Just simple things like not finding something in the refrigerator will set him off. But, hey, I'm used to it after twelve years. Just keep telling myself, it's not me. He's mad at himself because of his own limitations with brain injury and dementia.

I hope I'm not that way with God. I get frustrated when I mess up with Him too. We can be mighty hard on God, without even realizing it. Have you ever thought, "God, I can't hear you. You aren't speaking loud enough for me to get it." Or "God, why are your commandments so hard to follow?" Or "God, I can't find what it is you want me to do."

Please, God, don't take it personal. It's obviously me who just doesn't "get it"--I'm like an old lady with dementia, taking it out on her caregiver.

Pollyanna or Pity Party

What a lot of work it's been to go nowhere all day today. My muscles ache, not from lying in bed so much, but from hopping with a walker on the few short trips around the house that I've had to make. By the time I get there my lungs make me sound like I've just completed the Hawaii triathlon and come in last. I would get more sympathy from that with family members, except they are used to me sounding like that every day. One day on the stairs at church, I noticed my 3-year-old granddaughter marching right behind me, huffing and puffing all the way. Oh, well, it's part of my legacy.

Now here's a Pollyanna point though. If I had to hurt a foot, praise God it's my left one and shouldn't affect my driving. That would be a real hardship since I do all the driving. I think that will be my assignment tonight. To count my Pollyanna blessings. It's either that or have a pity party all by myself, and I like a crowd when I entertain.

Tomorrow's assignment: Think of a way to instruct Dean when he does things for me, without him taking offense. Today he threw his standard toddler-temper tantrum by announcing, "Quit treating me like a child." Well, there you have it.

Caregiving for the Caregiver

Being laid up with what I'm assuming is a fractured ankle/foot has given me a whole new appreciation of mobility. Hobbling on one foot wouldn't be so bad for some people, except my circumstances are a little sacrificed to begin with. My scoliosis isn't making this any easier. I'm worried for one thing about pneumonia with my restrictive lungs, since I'm only on my second week with a cold. Plus my back is starting to feel some pain when I use the walker. This is putting alot of stress on a back that had a total spinal fusion 48 years ago.

Dean has been a sweetheart though with all his seeking and fetching activities. He realizes how I waited on him so long after his foot injuries last summer. Well, actually I've made it a point to remind him on occasion; but he knows. Reminding is our middle name around here with his memory problems. I soon learned not to give him a list of things to do for me. He has to get the instructions one at a time. He will come back and forth with his fetching anyway just to ask what else I wanted. So, we're just keeping it simple.

Others are helping out too. There are some things I have to get my in-house nephew to do. Things that would be too much of a challenge for Dean, like lowering Dean's walker to fit my short stature. Plus my daughter and son-in-law have been called in for shopping duties and to get Dean out of the house for a spell. I am really blessed to have my loved ones around.

God didn't intend for his creatures to live alone. He knew all along that we would need each other at each stage of life. But mostly He created us to need Him. The biggest handicap in life for me would be not to realize that plain and simple fact: we NEED Him. But out of love, it's still a choice--to do life on our own or with His help. With His help, I'm given hope that all this is part of a glorious plan. The final outcome is what counts. Even my loving family can't give that priceless commodity. Hope.

Unplugged

Yesterday the worst caregiver nightmare happened. Not only am I battling a cold and had just been to the doctor for it, but as I was leaving a grocery store, I tripped and fell. My foot was hurting so bad, I was sure it might be broken or at least severely sprained. After another trip to the doctor and X-rays, I was told to stay off the foot till Monday after the radiologist sees the X-rays.

You know you're a caregiver when your daughter's first reaction was "Who's gonna' take care of Dad?" I couldn't really blame her, it was my first thought too.

Then last night the worst oxygen user nightmare happened. My bi-pap machine quit working. I looked in the manual and it said to notify the service provider. After determining which one and paging two different people in the middle of the night, the solution ended up being simple. Just unplugging and plugging it back in the wall. Voila. Everything was reset on the right track.

Sometimes we just have to get unplugged and plugged back in to get on track. I can picture God saying to me yesterday, "OK, I'm going to unplug you for just a split second, and then plug you back in. And you'll be as good as new." I can bear a short unplugging, knowing that my Main Service Provider is also the source of all power. I just needed to get back on the trust track.

Automatic Deposit

Social Security checks should be in tonight at midnight. I love automatic deposit. Especially when it's to MY checking account. I feel like a rags-to-riches story character. Just a backwards Cinderella. At midnight, I change from a dirt-poor housemaid to a ravishing princess. Only difference to a fairy tale ending is I'm only going to live happily for about half a month, till I start looking forward to the next deposit to my treasure chest. None of that "happily ever after" business in this family yet.

But someday the clock will strike the right hour and the real King of all Kings, not just a prince, will appear in the clouds of heaven. He will come to take all His faithful and loyal subjects home with Him. I pray to be in that crowd who meet Him with open arms and say "Lo, this is our God, we have waited for him, and he will save us." Isaiah 25:9

It's gonna' happen someday soon. You can bank on it.