The other day, I was getting Chris up for the day. Part of our morning processes includes getting him cleaned up a little. You know, washing his face, changing the tube padding, putting on deodorant. But it also includes cleaning his hands and inside his elbows. These can be real trouble spots for those who lack a normal range of motion or mobility.  As I was washing and drying his shriveled right hand, I leaned over and kissed it. I don't think I've ever done that in the almost 17-year journey. But I kissed his hand and I said, I love you, Bubba.  I realized that even though the Chris I knew and watched grow into a young man is gone, I still love him. I love him even though he is broken. That made me think about how God sees me. My soul must be as crippled as Chris's hand. Sometimes, I can't move emotionally. I'm sure I have some “spiritual” or emotional contractures in my soul. I often wonder if God looks at me and sees how broken I've become during my caregiv...

 I know we've all heard it said that you can't get very far if you keep looking in the rearview mirror. I get that. But that doesn't mean there is absolutely no benefit to looking back or being aware of what's behind you. If you are actively driving, you use your mirrors to stay aware of what might be coming up, right? Of course, we don't stare into the mirror as we navigate forward. But in life, the rearview mirror can really be helpful. As caregivers, our memories can help us or haunt us, depending on our unique specifics and situations. We may think back to when our loved ones were whole and seemed like an entirely different person. Sometimes, I miss my life back then  and the freedoms I had, but didn't even realize.  But memories can be a good thing, too. Lately, I've been able to enjoy some of the memories I made with my kids long before Chris' wreck. I'm glad I have them to go back to. In faith, a rearview mirror can be a powerful tool that hel...

 Have you ever been chased by a swarm of bees? I haven't yet! But there was this one time when my kids were young teens. We went out to the lake to hang out for the evening. I reached down to touch a little flower. I guess I startled a little bee. It looked like a bumblebee, but it was a LOT smaller. But it started flying toward me. I yelled, "Run!" And we all three took off running with the little bee hanging in behind us. I remember thinking that all I had to do was run faster than one kid! (Mom of the year material right there! Lol) Well, it turned out that I started laughing so hard I couldn't run. We didn't get stung, and the bee eventually stopped chasing us. Sure is a great memory of us running and looking back to see if it was still behind us. That memory came up as I read verse 12 in Psalm 118. The psalmist felt like his enemies had surrounded him like bees. Aside from my funny story, that's a scary thought. But as caregivers, it's a reality. Not ...

  I'm so glad no one has ever invented a thought-o-meter. But if they did, it would certainly be entertaining! My thoughts go a thousand miles an hour, and they can be all over the place. But you know what? God has enough grace for that. I've said before that I don't like to brag, but I can go from totally elated to completely bottomed out in less than a millisecond!  That's kind of what I saw as I read through Psalm 118 this weekend. I don't know who wrote this particular psalm, but they just about covered it all! :-) He started out good, just like caregivers try to do every morning. The psalmist talks about how God's mercies are forever; they won't run out! But if you glance down through the psalm, you may notice some raw emotions. Expressing our raw emotions does not negate the brand-new mercies God gave us this morning!  Here are a few of the words the psalmist used that stood out to me. Why? Because I feel them in my bones most days! Distress (v5) Fear ...

 Peter hopped out of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus. He had asked, "If it's really You, ask me to come, and I'm on my way!" Jesus told him to come on! Peter hops out and starts walking on the water, but he took his eyes off of Jesus and shifted his focus to the storm that was blowing and a'goin' all around him. He began to sink. We've used this as a life lesson a lot, and it sure pertains to caregivers. We all do much better, no matter what is going on all around us, as long as we keep our eyes on Him. The storms of life can rock our boat, toss us to and fro, and have us scared out of our wits. Keeping our eyes on Him, may not stop the boat from rocking or the storm from blowing, but it sure can keep peace in our souls.  We usually commend Peter for jumping out in faith, right? And we should! But as I read through this familiar story once again this morning, I thought of a couple of other things. It's stormy. It's dark. Peter did get...

  How many times a day do you have to hit the “restart” button? Too many to count? Lol. Just life, outside of caregiving, can put a demand on us to restart a lot, right? But for caregivers, every day can be a series of restarts. We never know when something is going to throw a wrench in our plan. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hesitant to plan too many things since I never know if I'll be able to follow through or not. Just this week, we had a quick run to the ER. Our days can get mixed up and unruly so fast that it's a constant struggle to keep our hearts, faith, and hope intact. So here we are day after day restarting our faith journey. Or is that just me? It really doesn't even take too sharp of a turn for me to be questioning if God really sees all “this.” I can't tell you how many times I've looked up to heaven with tear-stained cheeks and asked, Are you still looking, God? Do you see what's happening here? Usually, I turn to Psalm 13 for my...