As I was visiting with my son's nurse this morning we looked at some pictures of my mom and aunt. These were taken at our family Christmas get together and it's likely the last time they will see each other on this side of eternity. I smile when I think of how they will reunite in their new bodies on the other side. But then I sadden to think we must lose them both here first.
My thoughts were along these lines and my own humanness and frailty this morning as well as all I am dealing with as a multi-generational caregiver. Then, I thought of a verse in Psalm 103. Verse 14 says, For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust. Somehow I drew a bit of comfort from thinking about how He knows we are just a frail human frame made of dust. Life is passing us all by and we never know what a day may bring. No one knows that better than a caregiver.
But in verse 17, the psalmist passes by the fleeting wind of humanness and says these encouraging words: But the lovingkindness of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him...I thought for a few minutes on that. We are flesh - all we know passes away. But no matter what we have, don't have, face, or don't face in a day - His lovingkindness remains steadfast. He is our sure tower - we can run to Him with every emotion, fear, victory, question, and caregiving situation. And He already knows.
Today, I will rejoice in the truth that He knows (and understands) the frailty of my flesh. He understands my tiredness but the persistence caregivers have to keep pushing forward one step at a time. I'll meditate on how He understands when this flesh gets too weak to cry out to Him and He meets us there. Today, I will wait for Him not knowing what to pray or say. And I'll be content in knowing - that He knows. Will you join me?