God says in Exodus 20:12 “”Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you.”
Number 5 is pretty clear.
Family is family, and you’re blessed if you still have them. No family is perfect, however my parents were very good to us growing up, even when my brothers and I were sneaky, disobedient, mouthy, hardheaded, reckless, foolish and less than honorable towards them. Now we’re all grown and the roles are reversed. In their youth mom and dad cared for and protected us. In their old age it’s now our turn to care for and protect them.
Gods is always good, faithful and perfect, even when we can’t grasp all the intricate details that led to where we are or see beyond this moment or the one to come.
His plan is greater than I am able to understand, but the reality is that He has shown Himself to be a good, good trustworthy father. So gracious and merciful. In the past few weeks we’ve gone through some family stuff and God has been actively present, miraculous even.
Daddy had lost his Medicaid over 6 months ago and we had no idea. We found out only 3 weeks ago. My brothers and I jumped on it. Within 12 working days it was reinstated and retroactive. If you’ve ever dealt with DSS you know that’s something only God can do, I don’t care who you know or who handles your affairs.
During this time we’ve also been helping mom transition from independent to assisted living.
After daddy got sick and it became clear to us that he would never be able to leave the nursing home, mom struggled to keep up with the family home. Eventually it sold and for the last two years she has been happily living independently in her cute little apartment, surrounded by loving and attentive friends with help from a caregiver 4 days a week.
This season of independence ends tomorrow. Thankfully mom came to the realization that she needed more help on her own. We were spared making that decision for her. The fact remains, we all knew the more time passed that this might be the next step.
I can only imagine how she must be feeling. Smaller place, new routines, someone else’s cooking. Things in different places, learning the layout of the facility. Making new friends …. Again. I worry that depression will set in. I worry that staff and other residents won’t be mindful of her severe visual impairment, an issue that also plays into moms overall mental health. Worry easily turns to sadness and grief over the future. My heart just hurts. I don’t know any other way to say it.
But for now I know what I have to do, and that’s ‘honor your father and mother’. Treasure every moment, make sure to the best of my ability that they are safe, comfortable and well cared for. Make every effort to be soft and patient, careful with word choices and tone of voice. I need to practice active listening. Seek Gods wisdom and guidance with every decision and trust Him completely with the outcome.