The Incredible Value of a Single Human Life

Mom's beautiful bay window, just one of the many blessed features of the apartment that was built just for her. 

This summer I've been reading John Piper's, A Hunger for God. Through this book, the Holy Spirit is doing a work in my heart and mind. I'm being changed in the best possible way; through the sculpting influences of God's Word and God's Spirit.

In his chapter on abortion, Piper's clear teaching on the sanctity of human life has led me to this conclusion:  in order to be God's hands and heart as I provide care to my elderly mother, I must respect the value of her life to God.

There is a worldly view of human life that is gaining prevalence in our society; a view that would consider human beings to be just one life form that shares the planet with other, equally important creatures and plants. This is not the view of human life put forth in the Bible. Not only are human beings created in God's image, we are His beloved. It is the love of God for my mother that has time and again turned me from a worldly train of thought that, if followed to its logical end, would lead me to conclude that my mother's life is no longer of  value.

In the eyes of the world, my mother is utilizing resources while paying back nothing, but in God's eyes she is precious.  I believe He loves her scribbled praises and prayers, and that the sound of her warbling voice singing hymns gives Him joy.  

When I was new at the job of caregiving, the inequality of my labor versus Mom's life of relative leisure sometimes caused me distress.  The sacrificial service God was asking of me seemed beyond reason.  Furthermore, I could clearly see that my mother, although in possession of many honorable traits, was not and never had been perfect; and thus did not particularly deserve such an extravagant display of love.  The Lord was gracious to explain to me that I was seeing the fruit of His mercy and grace in my mother's life; she is incredibly precious to Him simply because she belongs to Him:

This was God’s love in action; the sacrificial love that allowed Jesus to die so that my mother could live the life of a beloved child of God. When I began to comprehend God’s grace toward Mom, I was helped toward greater trust in His grace and provision for me. From My Mom Has Alzheimer's: Inspiration and Help for Caregivers p.238

As human beings living in a fallen world we become so easily convinced that there should be a limit placed on the resources and sacrifice expended for the sake of one human life.  But in the economy of God's Kingdom, there are no limits; His love is beyond reason. He has withheld nothing from us, not even His only Son.  I've been reminded once again that we are precious in His sight. 

Scripture: This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers" (1 John 3:16). 

Beauty in Unexpected Places

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I decided to re-do a little upstairs bedroom in our old farmhouse.  OK, let's be honest here; I am the one who made the remodeling decision.  Poor Farmer John is so busy in the hayfield and so tired when he comes home at night that he would not have initiated such a project, although to his credit he helped me with every phase of the process.  At times (when texturing the ceiling, for example) he took over the work altogether.

Our house is nearly 100 years old, and has its idiosyncrasies.  For example, the door to the room we refurbished doesn't belong with the rest of the house.  Our theory is that the builders were one door short and so used a door from another building project, or perhaps from an older home that was being torn down.  This door has only four panels while the rest of our doors have five, and there is a plate beneath the doorknob that the other doors do not have.  The hinges and the doorplate had been painted over so many times that I took them off and applied paint thinner to remove multiple layers of color.  As I scraped away at the doorplate, this is what emerged:

The way I carried on you'd have thought I'd won the lottery. It was such an amazing feeling to see that beautiful pattern emerging from beneath the layers of sticky old paint.

I'm sure you can see it coming. I'm about to draw an analogy here! But that's the way the Lord speaks to me, so go with me on this...

I can't see beauty in my Mom's Alzheimer's disease. The disease itself is like those layers of sticky paint that hid the pattern beneath.  Alzheimer's is a travesty, an invader; a robber and a thief.  It takes so much from an individual and from a family.  It robs not only the memories of the patient, but also the memories of those who care for her.  It is hard now for me to remember who my mother was before Alzheimer's.  However, I have it on good authority that when my mother goes home to be with the Lord, that the effects of the disease will fade away much as those layers of paint dissolved.  And beneath will be not only my memories of the mother I once knew, but also the beauty of the pattern of God's perfect plan.  I can't see it now.  Someday I will.  Meantime I have faith that God has a plan, and that it is a good plan.  
 

Scripture: "But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:57-58).

Like a Well-Watered Garden

 The  little kitchen garden just outside my back door, with its lush crop of two varieties of basil (and non edible petunias)!  Note the water hose in the upper right corner of the photo.  Frequent watering has kept this little garden green and growing during the triple digit temperatures we've experienced the past few days.  

My cousin Pam is a woman of God who has withstood many assaults on her heart and her faith.  She nursed her husband, Brad, through the cancer that took his life at age 51, and was holding his hand as his spirit left his body.  God's ways are not our own, and at the point at which a human administrator of life might have designated Pam's grief quota to be complete, she's had other sorrows to bear.  And yet over the years her faith has deepened while her sense of peace and well-being in the Lord has increased. 

Isaiah 58, sometimes called the fasting chapter, tells us that when we give to the Lord that we will become like a well-watered garden, bearing fruit even in times of drought.  Pam is a generous person, giving unreservedly to her children and to her Lord.  Recently she said to me, "I need to be cautious, because sometimes I give without praying." 

In one of those Spirit driven flashes of insight into my own sin I replied, "I think I tend to pray without giving."  

If we had to chose one sin or the other, I think it would be better to err by over-giving than on the side of ignoring God's nudges to meet the needs of those who are in need.  If Pam's life is any indication, the fruits of a giving heart are well worth pursuing.  

When we are identified with the Lord,  His concerns become ours, and then our giving is sanctified by His own heart.  I'm thanking God today for the presence in my life of my generous cousin, friend, and sister-in-Christ, Pam. 

When you have time, stop by Pam's blog.  I especially like her reading about flexibility in one's quiet time.  Here is the link for the home page of her blog, which is called  "Somewhere in Time."  And if you would, say a prayer for Pam today. 

Scripture: "The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail" (Isaiah 58:11, NIV).

Fear of My Mother's Dying

Last weekend my husband and I attended his mother's family reunion, a huge affair complete with a sign-in book, name tags, an amazing variety and quantity of food, and about 250 people we were supposed to know. There are so many members of this family and they are so prolific that, apart from this biennial reunion, they would completely lose track of one another. Even so, it was common to hear whispered queries of "Who is that?" The children were particularly hard to track. They moved too fast for us to focus upon their name tags, and they tended not to stay with their immediate families!

The M.C. for the program portion of this event was Max, the family's version of David Letterman; complete with sly humor, engaging grin, and witty repartee. This year, however, Max's comments were tinged with sorrow. His father passed away earlier this year, and Max was with him when he died.

As he stood before the crowd, Max shared, "My dad fought death. And even after he was gone, his body continued to fight. I tell you, it's not just an easy 'lights out' like they show you in the movies."

I shuddered. I thought of my own father's death. My husband was with Dad when he died, I was not. John won't answer my questions about the particulars of Dad's passing and I wonder if this is why? Perhaps there was a death struggle. Perhaps it was horrifying for John.

And then I thought of my dread of my own mother's passing. I will probably be by her side. I felt fear, and no small annoyance with Max. "What I did not need here today," I thought, "Was a description of a not-so-peaceful passing followed by rigormortis."

The morning after the reunion I was especially tired. I'd painted the ceiling in one of the little upstairs bedrooms the evening before, and my middle aged muscles were aching. As I lay in bed, I stretched my tired muscles; one of those full length, luxurious, to the tips of your fingers and toes type of stretches ending in one last shuddering, tightening of every single limb and muscle; and then I collapsed into a state of complete relaxation. It was pleasant, there was nothing awful about it; it was just my physical body's response to being overworked the day before.

As I lay there the Lord touched my heart and I saw the correlation you've probably already made. Rigormortis is simply a part of the physical body's release of the spirit. It is not awful. It is not horrifying. It is a tension and release similar to my stretching followed by relaxation.

The Lord has spoken to me about this before. Here is a quote from My Mom Has Alzheimer's: Inspiration and Help for Caregivers:  

I saw my body as a fragile shell housing a precious treasure. Our physical bodies are like the alabaster vase that held the nard Mary poured upon the feet of Jesus. The vase was broken to release the perfume. Each of us is headed toward an appointment with physical brokenness because no one escapes physical death. Sometimes the process of death is painful and for just a little while, we are preoccupied with the breaking of the container, but then the fragrance of Christ flows forth as the spirit is released.


Death is not lovely, but though we must walk through the valley of its shadow, there is no need to fear. In just a little while we will see Jesus and no one will take away our joy. Until that day we have the Holy Spirit in our hearts as a deposit; a guarantee of what is to come. We have a promise that will not be broken; grief will turn to joy.

I have been so afraid of what I may have to see and experience as my mother goes through the process of dying. I am beginning to rest in trust in the Lord. If He allows my heart to break, He is able to mend it together again.  God is with me.  I will not be afraid.

Scripture: “You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy” (John 16:20b-22).

God Has a Reason

My mother has lived with us for six years. She is completely dependent on us for all of her basic needs, but is quite content to spend much of each day alone, reading the books we provide and listening to the music we choose for her. Caregiving duties are sometimes oppressive, but what if I change the way I think about these responsibilities? Perhaps my mother has somehow chosen to stay with me for this extended period of time because of her love and concern for me.  What if I choose to focus on the blessings of this time we are spending together?  

I do know that my mom's illness is blessing me with the time I need to adjust to the fact of her leavetaking. 

St. Paul said that it would be far better for him to depart this mortal life and to be at home with the Lord, "...But for your sakes, it is better that I continue to live (Philippians 1:23-24, NLT)." On days when I feel so stressed over wondering when and how my mother will finally leave me, it is a comfort to recognize the ways the Lord is blessing me through her extended time with us.  In so many ways it has been better for me that she has stayed. 

This morning I talked with a friend whose brother has just passed away.  She said, "I believe everything happens for a reason.  I'm having trouble figuring out the reason for this, but I know there is one."  This more positive way of looking at Mom's Alzheimer's disease leads me to a train of thought in which I begin to make conjectures about the Lord's reasons for allowing these circumstances, but the conclusions I draw may be inaccurate.  God has His reasons.  I won't always be able to understand, in fact, I know that as Hannah Whitall Smith says, my part is to trust, while God's part is to act. 

However, today I've been comforted by imagining a conversation between my mom and the Lord that might have gone something like this:  

Lord:  You know, Anna Ruth, Linda is going to have a terrible time letting you go.  

Mom: (With a tear in her eye) Yes, Lord, I know.  What can I do?  

Lord:  Well, there is a solution that will ease her pain and help her to make the transition to life without you, but you may not want to consider it.  

Mom:  Anything Lord, what is your plan?

Lord:  Alzheimer's disease.  

Mom: (Scarcely hesitating)  If it will help my girl and honor you, well of course, Lord.  Let's do it.  I know you'll be with me in it, and I've found your yoke easy and your burden light.  

Lord:  (Smiling)  I will be with you.  
***************
Thinking about my mom's illness in this way helps me accept the slow loss of the mother I knew and to cope with the behavioral changes that hurt my heart.  God is with us.  

A Woman of God...Sometimes

This morning my daughter, Melinda, told me of a comment from a friend of hers who is reading my book. Melinda's friend is not new to the concept of caregiving, having nursed her own mother through a lingering illness until her mom passed away. Of this time in her life she said, "I just loved taking care of my mother."

This brought me up short. I love my mother. But I do not love taking care of her. The precious young woman who uttered these words is 25 years my junior, and her day (and night) job consists of taking care of her five month old twins who were born prematurely and have special needs.

I often experience an uncomfortable suspicion that I am not as good or Godly a person as I ought to be, and when I encounter such Holy Spirit fed sweetness as exhibited by Melinda's friend, I become certain of it.

This same young woman went on to say, ""I love your mom already and I haven't even met her. She has such a great way of expressing what she has to say."

In response to this kind comment I wrote the following message to my daughter via an email:

I appreciate your friend's kind words. Thank you for passing them along. I am, of course, more likable via a medium (my writing) in which one doesn't have to live with me from day-to-day. But there truly is a lot of me in the book, and because it was written with a daily prayer that it be for God's glory,  the portion of me that is apparent through my writing is the part that will remain when God's refining fire gets done with me. So, your dear friend will recognize me right away when she meets me in Heaven, but stands a good chance of being unpleasantly surprised if she meets me before then! Meantime, it is sweet that she loves the person I will someday be. I love her back."

All of this brought to mind a truth the Lord has been speaking to me for some time; whenever we place our confidence in fellow human beings, we will eventually be disappointed. As a woman of God (sometimes) and a Christian author, I have more than once had the sad experience of seeing disillusionment in the eyes of someone who had admired me or looked to me as a role model. This can happen when I am overheard snapping at my husband, or being flippant, or responding with angry or hurtful words in response to some small hurt; but sometimes it happens through no sin of mine at all, merely as a reaction to the revelation that I am human. We don't like to see our role models fall from their pedestals.

A few years ago I learned that a pastor I overheard speaking harshly to his wife on a Saturday afternoon nevertheless had some Holy Spirit fueled instruction for me from the pulpit on the following Sunday morning. This is undoubtedly due to the fact that the pool of perfect people from which God has to choose contains no members. Once we become legitimate members of the family of God through the forgiveness that is ours in Christ, God begins to use us for His Holy purposes even while He is in the process of burning away the dross. And so it becomes necessary for us to recognize that God can use imperfect people to instruct or to help us, and that He can use us--while we are yet sinners--to help others. We don't have to wait to be perfect to be of use to God, and we don't have to wait for our authority figures and role models to be perfect in order to learn from them. As Christians we are not perfect, we are only in the process of being perfected.

Scripture: "Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you" (Ephesians 4:32 NIV).

"Far better to take refuge in God than to trust in people" (Psalm 118:9, The Message).

The God of Little and Big

It is a seeming contradiction that while Lord places a great urgency in our hearts to spread the Gospel, He is simultaneously willing to take all the time necessary to bring about His perfect will in our lives. Sometimes that entails a period of rest; but rather than restful I've felt restless during these slower-paced summer days when I am supposed to be abiding in the Lord. This summer I've chastised myself for spending time with such inconsequential pursuits as shopping for home decorations, but an incident that occurred earlier this week helped me to think differently about this and other activities that do not seem to be directly related to spreading God's Word.

I am always surprised when the Lord reveals His intimate involvement in the seemingly mundane moments of my seemingly unimportant little life.  For example, last week I noticed Queen Anne's lace has burst into bloom along our roadside ditches and in the pastures.  I picked a single blossom and placed it in a bud vase on my kitchen table. Intrigued by the intricacy of the stems and the many tiny blooms that make up a single flower, I photographed the blossom from the underside (above).

On Wednesday evening I took a half price off coupon and headed to a little shop near my home that offers items of surprising variety and beauty for a small town store.  I found the print pictured below and was delighted to bring it home.  I  hung it over the mantle in my living room.

I stood back and admired it and then felt a twinge of guilt.  I wondered whether the Lord approved of me spending money on such a frivolous object.  I was still staring at the picture as these thoughts ran through my mind and suddenly I noticed that the white flowers depicted in the print could very well be Queen Anne's Lace, and that the blossom at the top center is depicted from the underneath side, in a similar way to the photograph I'd taken a few days earlier.  I went in to have another look at the blossom that was still gracing my kitchen table, and found that it had opened further, increasing its resemblance to the flowers in the picture I'd just hung. 

I think we underestimate the degree to which God's love and involvement extend to every facet of our lives.  I am not, so far as I know, accomplishing great things for the Kingdom of God this summer, but rather I am immersed in the ordinary duties of my ordinary days.  I am humbled and thankful to be shown that the Lord is present with me whether I'm picking a wildflower by the roadside or am involved in activities that I would judge as being more important. 

Scripture:  "...God is with you in everything you do."  (Genesis 21:22)