Reflections from a Month of Caregiving

Just over a month ago my mom was to have a heart procedure to replace her tricuspid valve. She expected an overnight stay in the hospital, two nights at most. But things didn’t go according to plan. A device malfunction resulted in emergency open heart surgery, and Mom’s “overnight” stay was extended to seventeen days. It’s been another seventeen days since she was discharged. Mom and Dad have been staying here at the lake with Kyle and me for her recovery. Here are a few reflections from the experience so far. 

1—Prayer  

At first I could hardly pray. I didn’t know what to ask. I didn’t understand what God was doing. My prayers felt foggy. So I’d pray, “Holy Spirit, please intercede.” And it was enough. Each time I’d utter my simple request I’d have an overwhelming sense of being covered. Of being held. And then later I read these words from Tyler Staton’s book, The Familiar Stranger:

In the wake of an interruption so startlingly painful you don’t know what to say… you can only let out a groan. A loud, angry, pain-stricken groan. And somehow the Holy Spirit within you is so present and active that he translates that groan into the requests of what you really need. In your deepest pain he ushers you into the very presence of the Father, turning your wordless groaning into communion. 

2—Redemptive Suffering

Chapter 11 of Staton’s book is titled, “Redemptive Suffering” and I’ve read it three times this year. First with my husband. A second time with women at church. And the third with our “Lake Life” small group. The book is a rich description of “life empowered by the Holy Spirit” with chapters on things like Discernment, Prophecy, Healing, and Witness. At first the chapter on suffering felt a bit out of place. Last week when we discussed it with our small group, a couple of my friends admitted to “not resonating” with the content. Which is probably how I felt on my first couple of readings. But Tyler is a young dad and a pastor who’s battled cancer twice, and reading his words through the lens of Mom’s suffering (and my own) is like seeing it for the first time. 

Lament is the practice of groaning with the Spirit in the midst of suffering—my own suffering or the suffering of another. It is most frequently encompassed in the repeated biblical phrase, “How long, O Lord?” Essentially, this is a shorthand cry for full redemption… 

Lament is all over the Bible, making up about 40 percent of the psalms that serve as the prayer book for God’s people, but lament is mostly absent in the modern church. The unintended consequence is that many modern disciples do not know how to talk to God in the wake of suffering. 

3—Availability 

A couple of years ago I was having coffee with a college friend who made an interesting comment. She said, “God has given me the gift of availability.” I was struck by the unique nature of her perspective—so different from the typical, “Life is crazy busy.” 

Cindi’s words have come mind often this summer. I “happen” to be in a season with no job and few commitments—a time of transition and waiting. If you’d asked me a few weeks ago I might have mentioned a bit of low-key frustration. What am I supposed to be doing with my life? But now, here we are. Mom needing care and me having time, and there’s no doubt this was God’s plan and provision all along. 

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time for us to do (Ephesians 2:10). 

Yes. God has given me the gift of availability. 

4—Rollercoaster

Mom’s recovery has been rollercoaster. Blood too thick, then too thin. Home injections administered by “Dr. Kyle.” A scary night when the tiniest scab produced a whole lot of bleeding. Another sleepless night of excruciating gout caused by diuretic—every remedy off limits because of blood thinner. Several days of daily progress. Then another setback. Shortness of breath. Phone triage suggesting we take her to the local ER where they admit her for fluid buildup. More diuretic. And the gout is back. Every day its own adventure. And yet… 

5—Hope

I read this from a book my aunt sent in the mail last week. Matthew Kelly’s Holy Moments: 

What is hope? It is the belief that good things lay ahead. It is a combination of desire and expectation. It is the confidence that something wonderful is possible…

When we lose hope, we stop believing the future can be better, and start believing that there is nothing we can do about our situation. This victim mindset takes us deeper into the hopelessness, which makes us feel that even the smallest things are impossible. 

In spite of everything, I realize God’s greatest provision, each day, for each of us—Mom included. Is Hope. 

6—Caregiving 

Caring for my mom has reminded me of my days of parenting young children. Meeting the needs of “my people" comes rather naturally. It’s not weird or inconvenient or forced. It just is. At the same time I find myself tiptoeing around at bedtime and nap-time, hoping for a few minutes of downtime. And when other family members offer to take a shift I seize the moment.

7—Soul Care

A paddle-board on still water, eagles flying overhead, is currently my most holistically healthy activity. Good for body, mind and soul. 

8—Images

God has been anchoring me with three biblical images, and I find them on repeat in songs and in Scripture. 

First, the image of the heart. Mom’s heart dripping blood and beating in the hands of her surgeon. Beating in the hands of her Great Physician Father. A heart stitched whole by His Love. 

Second, blood. Transfused blood and the blood of Jesus. Last Sunday at church the worship leader was introducing a new song when Kyle leaned over and asked, “Is it Quoia’s?” As in—our grandson’s favorite song… the song guaranteed to stop his tears and always sooth him… and yes, it was. Quoia’s song!! 

Hallelujah, hallelujah

I know it was the blood

Could have only been the blood

Hallelujah, hallelujah

I know it was the blood

Could have only been the blood

And third—Breath. Ruach. Pneuma. Breath/wind/spirit. Holy Spirit breath in our lungs, and another song on repeat: 

You give life, You are love

You bring light to the darkness

You give hope, You restore every heart that is broken

And great are You, Lord

It's Your breath in our lungs

So we pour out our praise to You only…

9—Song in the Night 

And then there’s Scripture. The Bible read in snippets. A bit each morning between distractions, and I cling to whatever I can. Like Psalm 42:8—

The Lord will send his faithful love by day; his song will be with me in the night— a prayer to the God of my life.

And He’s faithful. He gives me a song. This same song, nearly every night. I wake briefly to receive it…

I've still got joy in chaos

I've got peace that makes no sense

And I won't be goin' under

I'm not held by my own strength

'Cause I've built my life on Jesus

He's never let me down

He's faithful through every season

So why would He fail now?

He won’t

This I do know. He is utterly faithful. He will never fail. He won't.

Songs in order:

The Blood, by Bethel Music

Great Are You Lord, by All Sons & Daughters

Joy In Chaos, by Holy Drill