Consider it all joy, my brethren,
when you encounter various trials,
knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.
And let endurance have its perfect result,
so that you may be perfect and complete,
lacking in nothing.
James 1: 2-3
Have you ever just wanted to crawl into bed and stay there permanently? My body is fatigued, my muscles ache, and I can’t seem to muster any strength. I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. The smallest act of kindness brings tears to my eyes. My husband brought me a cup of coffee the other morning and I felt so loved – it was ridiculous.
I feel totally overwhelmed from having to care for others right now because of the high level of care we’re giving to my 90-year-old father with Parkinson’s. Is it any surprise? We’ve been taking care of Grandpa for over a a year now and there is no relief in sight, although I am hopeful some things that need to change will be happening in the next few months. Grandpa has lost a little more mobility over the last month (as if that was possible) and it’s hard to watch him regress.
I’m not writing to elicit pity for my situation. I write to record a dialog between God and myself, to bring clarity and healing to a tough situation. In exchanging words – His and mine – I hope to see victories large and small in this new season of life. I would enjoy your companionship along the way, too. After all, we are fellow sojourners along with a crowd of unseen witnesses, the saints who have faithfully traveled the well-worn path of suffering before us. We are in good company.
I’m sure you have your own battles to fight, your own set of unique circumstances and obstacles to to overcome. And if you don’t at this particular moment in time, you most likely will in the future. Trials are God’s way of giving us an opportunity to become totally dependent upon Him, to draw us close to his heart. Through times of severe trial and testing, He is especially near, wanting to reveal His character to us, His lovingkindness and faithfulness to all generations. And most importantly, through trials He begins to remove all the props – the things we rely on and put our trust in other than Him.
Is this journey one of comfort and ease? No. But as Christ’s followers, we learn to take up our cross daily and trod the path specifically designed for each of us to travel – one in which we may humbly follow in His steps, call upon Him for assistance, and die to our own will in the process. But we won’t be able to stay the course unless we are willing to quiet ourselves and listen for His words of love and direction.
We have to allow God a window, an entrance into our soul – a quiet place where He can open our eyes to see the sin which so easily besets us and trips us up on our long passage to the other side. What is God’s purpose for each of us at the end of any trial? That we would be more fully-fashioned into the likeness of His Son. But to be victorious, we must be willing to undergo the journey with endurance.
What is endurance? The Greek word for endurance is Hupomone: patience, endurance as to things or circumstances, longsuffering, endurance toward people. It is associated with hope and refers to the quality that does not surrender to circumstances or succumb under trial.
So I must ask myself a hard question and one I hope you will ask yourself today. How am I handling the trial I am walking through right now? Am I letting endurance have it’s perfect result? I know I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but “knowing” is not enough. Am I willing to surrender my will to His? Am I obediently doing all He has required of me? Have I accepted this new season of life with joy?
In a time of quietude this morning, when the window to heaven was open, God showed me that I once again have been fighting His latest assignment with every fiber of my being – so much so that tears of exhaustion well up and spill over at the least provocation, exposing emotions raw and worn-thin like a glove with a hole in the thumb. I wish there was a quick fix, but I can’t just slap a patch over the frayed threads and expect the mend to hold. I have to take the time to sew the edges down tightly, slowly pulling the thread in and out the patch and glove to prevent the hole from becoming larger and unraveling altogether. It’s no secret that mending takes time and patience. So it is with the mending of our souls. Letting endurance have it’s perfect result takes time and patience.
Lately, it seems as if I couldn’t find a needle and thread if my life depended on it. Due to sheer exhaustion, my whole life seems to be unraveling. That is until I stopped again to open the window to heaven. It was then that God in His mercy reached out and showed me the true condition of my heart and what needs to change to run this race with endurance.
We can’t deliver ourselves, so why even try, right? Well, not exactly. We cannot deliver ourselves, but we can place ourselves in the right position to receive deliverance.
The hymn writer expresses this spiritual paradox this way:
Born to wander Lord I feel it,
Born to leave the God I love,
Here’s my heart now take and seal it,
Seal it for they courts above.
We can throw open the window to heaven wide and invite the Lord to minister to our heart and soul in times of trial or we can board it up and refuse Him access, making the journey even longer and harder than it was before. The choice is ours.
Jill, I’m so glad that I finally followed this link from my friend Patricia at Pollywog Creek.
I’m a 42 year old mom of 9 kids – my youngest being 4 weeks old.
This Spring, in May, my husband fell very ill and almost died from a staph infection that got into his hip joint and then into his bloodstream. Along with this, I was newly expecting and also taking care of my elderly parents. It felt like my whole world fell apart at the same time. Both of my parents had joint replacement surgeries, and they didn’t go well. Mom couldn’t take hardly any pain medication because it made her sick to her stomach and it also made her mind go whacky. Her pain has lasted twice as long as they say it should. My dad’s hip broke when they put the replacement in – so instead of 3 days recovery til walking (new anterior cut type of surgery with unbelievable heal time, generally) he has had 8 weeks.
So, in the course of six months I’ve had loved ones with joint surgeries and a new baby. (And of course, the washing machine died, and the car died and we’ve had all sorts of sickness and I was called for jury duty…the stuff of life didn’t slow down.) I am so sick of seeing ivs and walkers and shower seats and potties with arms… (grin.)
It all happened so suddenly – everyone in my adult world needed me at once! The kids had to handle so much at home, it was unreal. (Your Eric and my oldest son Jacob have been friends for years on facebook, btw.) And when it appeared that my mother was losing her mind it really panicked me. (Her mother had Alzheimers…)
My siblings live 8 hours away, and for the most part, they have indicated that they think care of our parents is all my job…that was a “special pain,” I guess…to deal with yet more emotional distress.
Ah…but we have had a little relief recently.
Last month when I had the baby, I had driven my parents to doctor’s appointments – five hours total driving….helped Dad down the (long) stairs with a broken hip, pushed his wheel chair, carried a bag, and carried his walker too, went to two doctor’s appointments, stopped at four stores and the bank and pharmacy and got all of their supplies, took them home, unloaded everything in reverse, picked their remaining garden, picked up their pecans from the ground, burned trash, checked laundry, made soup for supper, then drove home and made supper for my 8 kiddos…went to bed, and was awakened by my water breaking and then the baby was here. I had a couple of days in the hospital and I JUST WANTED to love on the baby and SLEEP! It was actually a very restful, God-blessed time.
Since then – while it has been difficult to continue handling my parent’s needs – i must say that we are all better off than we were a month ago! My parents are healing. Dad can finally try putting weight on his leg. Mother is still forgetful…but she is able to manage at least for now, and within her own small world, and she too is healing from the surgery. I feel so much physically better, and my husband is continually getting stronger. Thank you, God! 🙂
Looking back, I’m not sure how we kept it all together, and how I did not lose my mind. I find that when you care for elderly, people just don’t generally want to hear about it. You become as forgotten as they are. People definitely don’t want to hear you complain…even though you might not be complaining in reality – you are just about to break! God gave us strength, He held us together.
Long term? Like you, I see no relief in sight. I don’t have any idea how this will work out or how we will manage – but I do believe that God will be with us.
This was very long, and I’m so sorry for pouring out my story and my soul…guess I just saw someone that I knew would understand the emotional/physical part of this journey. It’s kind of a beautiful burden to walk thru these years with my parents. I hate watching their decline and their suffering, and while I often want relief I know that this is my role right now. (Side note: My parents are incredibly legalistic people and very, very difficult to please. They love me, and are grateful…but they have no idea how hard this is. They are generally unable to tolerate the little children – they appreciate the help that the big kids give, but the young ones alternately please them and annoy them. I struggle immensely with the balance between mothering my children and taking care of my parents. To be devoted deeply to one set seems to mean that the other is short-changed.)
I am looking forward to reading back over your blog, and perhaps, I should start a blog/journal of my own for the same purposes.
God bless you, Jill, as you care for your father. (My father is 86.)
Dear Holly,
Thank you for sharing your trials with me. I agree. I don’t think people are generally interested in our struggles with elderly parents, but the funny thing is it’s going to happen to our generation. Most of us will likely have to take care of an elderly parent one way or another, whether we like it or not. Do share your daily struggles as you can. It will be an encouragement to me and those who are walking through similar situations, too.
Blessings,
Jill