On Sunday, I had a dream. I was crying in the dream. When I woke up, I was still crying. The attractive sleep mask I wear to bed was damp with tears.
It was another sad reality. The Lord is the only one who can help us manage our sorrow and pain.
My waking hours have been anguished. Over a month has passed since we have seen my father-in-law. He has been diagnosed with moderate vascular dementia and Alzheimer’s. My brother-in-law lied to us about having Dad come visit him for a vacation and now he’s saying he wants to stay with him. Appallingly, he denies that anything is wrong with his father.
Now isolated by his oldest son from all the rest of the family, we are told he and his son want no further contact from us. After four years of welcoming him into our home and heart, it is a devastating blow to our family. How can Dad just walk away?
When we have attempted to call the available phone numbers, it is apparent the person on the other line abruptly hangs up the phone. This has been the case as each one of our children have also tried to speak to their grandpa. Can you even imagine?
“Why is she sharing this?” you wonder, understandably so.
(Btw, the Hubs has given me approval to share).
As bad as the situation is (and it’s bad), God is doing something.
Several years ago, I sliced my finger on a can of mushrooms. We were getting ready to eat dinner. The Hubs was outside grilling chicken when I screamed for his help.
The cut was so deep on my middle finger, it was obvious a little band-aid would not suffice. We rushed to the hospital and there was a concern that I had sliced through bone or a tendon. When I went to the emergency room, grasping my finger to control the bleed, at one point, the physician needed to see the cut. Reluctantly, fearfully, I opened my bent finger to let him look inside.
This is what is happening to me right now.
A wound is being torn open and examined. I am both nauseated and afraid at extent of my injury.
As my finger was stitched up, I knew it would mend.
In this case, the Great Physician looks tenderly at my wound. He sees the gushing blood and the pain. Frankly, I’m utterly woozy and dizzy from the rejection and suffering. Then I am reminded, His loving arms surround me/my husband/my tender-hearted olive shoots.
I’m someone who has had her fair share of “men” issues. This crisis reminds of the many other men who have rejected my affections. Some of them never deserved my affection in the first place.
Others, had a logical reason to love me…
I was related to them.
Yet there still was and is great disappointment in how that love wasn’t and isn’t manifested towards me. I imagine some of you might empathize.
I sometimes wonder, does this earthly father miss us? Does he ever think fondly of his other two sons, his five grandchildren and his adorable great-grandchild? Does he remember the meals I prepared for him, the holidays we shared, the care and kindness we extended to him? Is all of this happening because of two horrid degenerative terminal brain diseases or is there yet another evil force at work? In a lucid moment, is it possible that he feels a measure of regret for walking away from us? Does my brother-in-law, this urchin of a man, ever sense guilt and regret over his actions?
The answers to these questions are unknown. I can speculate and pray. Some of them might be revealed to me but it’s doubtful.
So I lean on this TRUTH.
2. God is my Hope. He is my lovebeam.
3. Our suffering is not in vain. Though it’s hard to imagine, the Lord will accomplish a purpose through this dark trial.
4. My Heavenly Father is the only man who has ever been 100% reliable, dependable and trustworthy.
5. The Hubs, my three olive shoots are currently tied for second place.
6. The Lord will not waste this hurt. His specialty is restoration. What was meant for evil, God will use for good.
7. There are blessings mixed in and I must be attentive to them.
This beautiful song sums it up. The tears keep falling. Thank you for praying for my family. ❤