In Moments Like This

I was thinking the other day, after another week in virus isolation, how easy it’s been to take many of the simple things in life for granted. I miss the ease and freedom of running to the store, any store, on a whim, without having to wear a face mask and gloves. I miss baking without having to keep close track of my baking supplies and the amount I’m using; flour and yeast being hot commodities these days. I miss those moments when isolation was simply a treat for me; the place where I could refresh and regroup, and come out of ‘me-time’ ready to respond kindly and graciously to those who live in the same house.

I recently found a journal post from spring of 2018, and after reading what I had written in the post, I realized how I’ve taken for granted those who have been placed under my care. How much I needed a reminder about having a grateful heart for what I’ve been called to do and why I do it.

— Her name is Dorothy, and she sits outside on our backyard swing, soaking up the sun rays warming her aging body. Dorothy is my eighty-seven year old mama who came to live with us just recently.

I watch her from inside the house as she slowly swings, and wonder what her thoughts are about the newest and toughest physical move in her life. I wonder what she‘s feeling about her aging process. Does she wonder where time went, or how she got to this moment in her Life? Does she see this newest transition as some kind of a life interruption? Does she see having to live with her family as a death of her dreams?

As I continue to observe her from my kitchen window, her head drops slowly to her chest, and she catches a short nap after her long night of intermittent sleep. I smile to myself, thinking about how peaceful she seems to be at this moment, so glad she’s able to be outside where she can focus on something else besides the pain in her body that’s becoming another everyday life adjustment.

There have been moments where the caregiving aspect for my mom can feel interruptive for me, but in this particular moment I’m humbled. I’ve realized with being so focused on the how I’m doing, I’ve missed who my mom is, and always has been. Dorothy is a woman of quiet thoughtfulness, making others, whether family, friends or total strangers, more important than herself, and doing it with few words, in kind, unassuming, or uncomplicated ways.

At this moment, caregiving isn’t about life being interrupted for either one of us, but it’s so much more about it being a moment of a God-intervention. It’s been about God asking both of us to join with Him and His protection over my mom physically, due to her limited abilities to care for herself. It’s a God-intervention because God didn’t call me to manage her life, and all that comes with her aging process, but He did call me to come alongside her and to be a safe place to fall when it does begin to overwhelm, or when loneliness becomes too much for her. But most importantly, it’s a God-intervention for us both to become the persons we are meant to be in Him during this season in both our lives.

As my mom continues to swing in the spring sun, I say a simple prayer of thanks for the backyard we have for her to enjoy and feel safe in. I thank God for the simplicity her life represents, but so much more importantly, I begin to thank Him for His intervention in both our lives. And so today I finish what I’m doing and decide I will go out and join her. —-

The backyard swing sits empty this spring, my mom not quite as stable to make the journey across the lawn to use it. But in spite of the decline of her physical body, the simplicity her life represents still remains strong. She still is, in her quiet, unassuming way my greatest supporter, and still continues to cheer me on from the sideline.

I repeat the simple prayer I said two years ago, once again thanking God for His intervention during this virus isolation, but this time adding my gratefulness for His reminding me about what I’m called to do and who I do it for. And who knows, my mom and I still might just take a walk together out to the backyard swing.