Change...

Change... it is hard, it is exciting, it brings out the worst, it brings out the best, it is a test of faith, it is the gift of peace, it is a new ministry, it is the end of something, it is the beginning of something, it is saying goodbye, it is opening a new door... it is change.

The last two months for me and for my family can only be characterized by one word - change.

My father-in-law, George (aka Junior), moved in with us almost two months ago to the day. After a brief stay at the hospital, we brought Dad to our home as the family together sought the right next step for him. He is 80 years old living with diabetes and dementia and after his visit to the hospital we all knew he could not, and had not, been able to take care of himself living alone.

When he came home, to our home, he hallucinated often, his speech was slurred, he fell frequently, he slept almost all day and night, he never really recalled conversations - I'm not sure he really knew he was having them - there were so many issues that came along with his health, issues we were not really aware of. Looking back I realize the blessing of being able to understand his true condition so quickly.

While trying to figure out living arrangements, Jeb and I slept in our living room not really sleeping through the night as we listened as though we had a newborn baby in our home, listening for the slightest sound that would indicate something was not quite right. Between the fire station and home, Jeb was definitely not sleeping much at all.

We learned so much that first week as to the true condition of Dad's health. The first week he was home Jeb calmly came out into the living room to let me know he had just called 911 because something was not quite right - he was "crashing", diabetically. I have never seen a body, a mind, a spirit behave in that manner but I learned quickly as it happened two more times - physically and spiritually fighting for someone's life. By the grace of God, with the wisdom of a caring doctor and a whole lot of love and prayer, a healthy and steady diet and routine, we started seeing great changes in his health.

We had found an adult apartment right around the corner from our home and began preparations for him to live there. One day I was walking through the kitchen and saw Dad sitting out on the porch swing. For whatever reason I stopped and quickly realized he was sobbing. I have seen and experienced a lot of emotionaI situations but I have to say seeing this grown man sitting, just weeping brought forth a deep and sincere compassion - I sat down at the kitchen table and just watched him with the heaviest heart, the saddest heart - whatever he was mourning, my heart was mourning with him. I went out on the porch swing with him and just put my arm around him - I was at a loss for words.

I asked him what he was thinking and he just started pouring out his heart of the ache and longing of a different time, a different place, a different reality. Dad's doctor told him that due to his medical conditions he cannot drive, and because of what we know about his health, he cannot be by himself and all of this reality of change was setting in and hurting his heart. I cannot begin to express the absolute opposing emotions of feeling as though you are helping someone and yet hurting them at the same time.

After talking to Jeb, I asked Dad, knowing he cannot go back to his home in Caddo Mills, would he prefer to live with us in our home rather than in a senior living facility. I cannot say his response was overwhelmed with excitement but he preferred it to the alternative.

I would like to say that joy has been abounding in our home but Jeb and I are presented at least once a week with a tough conversation by his dad - a conversation fighting change.

I enjoy the glass half-full perspective. Not only was the glass half-empty, the glass was completely dry for Dad. Dad and I sit around a lot and talk and through one conversation I laughed (with him of course) and suggested we needed to get some drops of water in his parched glass. He laughed and agreed, but I know the battle going on in his mind is great. Even as I sit and type this, he is sitting on the porch swing contemplating... the battle rages on.

We talk a lot about God and when the conversation gets tough, Jeb asks him where he is with his relationship with Christ. That question usually is a show-stopper as Dad knows and has acknowledged he is not where he should be - he has the head knowledge, it just hasn't penetrated his heart filled with 80 years worth of circumstances and experiences.

Every morning I sit on my patio to have my time alone with Him and I pray, I pray, I pray that the longing Dad has for another time and place will be removed and replaced with Him. I also ask God to give me a fresh perspective for the day (my manna for the day) to be able to walk with Dad effortlessly extending love and grace to him as the battle rages on.

I know we are moving Dad through change because we love him, because we want him to be healthy and safe. Even through his frustration, Dad acknowledges the change and why our home is now his home, I know he feels the deep love we have for him but... change is hard - I personally know that and am filled with compassion towards Dad.

So far, today is a great day, regardless, the glass is half-full and today is another day, another opportunity to be thankful. I sit here knowing He will give me my manna for today.

Change - that is part of our journey of faith. He will never let us stay the way we are or where we are as He uses situations and circumstances to form us into the likeness of His precious Son. Change - let us embrace it with all of Him that is in us!

Father, thank you for the gift of change and the journey of faith that allows us to grow closer to you with new revelations of who you are day by day, moment by moment. Our journey of faith is a steady pace, not growing weary, not losing heart.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Hebrews 12:1-3