Caregiver Chronicles: When a Community Cares

I'm still studying Ruth, as I mentioned in yesterday's post, and am fascinated by Naomi. When she and Ruth entered Bethlehem together for the first time, all the people crowded around to greet her. She was nothing but a sour bag of grumbling, and announced, "I'm a bitter woman." 

If I'd been in that community, I might have thought, "Welcome back, Miss Bitter Bag. I'm steering clear of you." We'll talk about how Bethlehem responded later, but the thing that's caught my attention today is how everything turned for Naomi in a single moment. 

They were in desperate straits, so Ruth went into the fields to glean the charity grain. Her first day out, she gleaned in Boaz' field. When she returned home with leftover lunch and an apron full of grain, something huge stirred in Naomi. Suddenly, she wasn't Mara, Miss Bitter Bags anymore.

"...May he be blessed of the Lord who has not withdrawn his kindness to the living and to the dead..." (Ruth 2:20)

Hope flooded in, and her praise returned.

Sam and I had that kind of day yesterday. 

The Sisters of Strength were scheduled to arrive at 8:30. They were coming to help me with a couple of pressing needs. 

When I went downstairs, Sam was still asleep. I prepped the food for breakfast with the Sisters while I waited for him to wake up. He kept sleeping. For a few moments, I worried that he'd gone into a coma, but it was just my overactive imagination. He was tired out from the day before. 

At 8:00 I woke him and we started the sometimes-long process of getting him ready for the day. Sam said, "Maybe you should put a sign up not to come in until I get my clothes on." 

I agreed, but a sign meant I had to find a piece of paper, a pen, and some tape. All that seemed like too big a task at the moment. Instead, I prayed, "Lord, please delay the Sisters until the right time, because I have my hands full here."

He did.

The very moment I finished getting Sam situated (except for shaving him, a job at which I'm absolutely terrible), someone knocked on the door. It was Jerry Iverson. He'd brought strawberry shortcake and whipped cream and come prepared to sing to Sam, pray over him, and shave him. 

Harold Patterson arrived a few minutes later with tomatoes and a watermelon and a heart full of song and Scripture. 

While I finished getting ready for the Sisters to come, the two men blessed Sam. The sound of their singing floated through my house and filled it with praise. 

The Sisters arrived in the midst of their visit. We had breakfast while Sam had a shave-with-serenade. It was wonderful.

Kandy Walker, one of the Sisters, arrived after the men left in her "Unicorn Princess" outfit, ready to clean my house. I was surprised. "You're cleaning my house?" 

She said, "You're doing what's important. I'm doing your floors." And she did. 

One of the things all the Sisters try to do is get Sam to smile. He's not a Bitter Bag, but he doesn't feel good much of the time, and smiles are few and far between. 

Kandy, in her "Unicorn Princess" outfit started a smiling fest. She flitted about the house with her tutu and tiara, wielding her Shark mop like a weapon. It was amazing. I don't think Sam ever stopped smiling. 

Sam's new nurse arrived in the middle of all the action. We were doing paperwork when Sam needed to potty, and I jumped up to help. "Oh, no. Let me. That's what I'm here for. To help you both," the new nurse said. I was shocked. She rushed over to Sam. As she helped him stand, she said, to the man who towered over her by a foot, "You're sure a long, tall drink of sweet tea, Mr. Sam." He grinned again.

She looked at the potty chair after she had him fixed and said, "I believe he's a lot taller than this chair. Let me adjust it right quick." And she did. 

She came with a servant heart filled with love and it was exactly what we needed.

Before our Unicorn Princess left, someone said, "What's the plan for Sam when you do the Prayer Retreat? Because I'm depending on that retreat. I need it bad." 

I said what I always say these days, "I have no idea. I'm asking God to send someone."

We decided that, since God hadn't sent anyone yet, we should ask together. Since we were asking for sitters, I suggested we ask for a sitter for Tuesday the 15th, too, as I had several appointments I didn't need to miss. We prayed and thanked God for what He would do.

I won't go in to what Tonya Henley, Casandra Weeks, and I did before this next, but, when we were about sweated out from our work, we loaded Sam up and went to his house to look for T-shirts. Sam wanted to sit in his house for a while, so he was pretty excited about this.

We hadn't been there for ten minutes before Chris Crump and his son stopped by. (That raised the total vehicle count outside to four.) Pretty soon his wife joined us, and that made five. 

The Blue Springs Police were driving past, saw a crowd, and stopped. Chief Brandon Clayton and Officer Norris Robbins climbed out of the patrol car. "We saw all the cars and were worried something had happened to Sam. Is he okay?"

That started a flurry of calls and texts. People in our town had seen the cars and they were worried. "We're praying for you and Sam. Are y'all okay?" That's the kind of texts I received, because that's the kind of town Blue Springs is. People continued to check on him for hours.

When Sam had finished sitting in his house, Brandon and Norris offered to help get Sam back to my house, and I accepted. We made it just before the rain started.

After everyone left, I sat by Sam as we talked about the day. He was tired but still smiling. "It sure was nice that so many people checked on me." 

"Yep, Sam," I told him. "People love you." 

He didn't say much, but just nodded. After a few minutes, he said, "You know, Blue Springs has always been a nice town." And he was right.

It had been a huge day and Sam was worn out. He ate a very quick supper and turned in, then instructed me to do the same. 

"Are you trying to get rid of me, Sam?" 

He nodded and grinned. "Don't be making any noise and waking me up," he warned. I headed upstairs, leaving Sam to savor the love that had been lavished on him all day long.

It had been a turning point kind of day, but God wasn't through. I had just crawled into bed when I received a text from my friend, Diane Becraft. She was in town from Texas, visiting family for a week, and offered to sit with Sam one day. For exactly the amount of time I needed someone to sit. On Tuesday. 

Answered prayer.

I had just thanked her when June Winstead messaged me and offered to stay with Sam during the prayer retreat. 

Answered prayer again.

Sam and I both savored the community that cared. We thanked God for a day that was so filled with the love and provision of God that hope rushed in and praise poured out. 

It was a beautiful day and we're so grateful to all those who, in helping us, helped make it so wonderful. 

What about us? Are we a Bitter Bag or a Community that Cares? Which attitude do we have? In case you've wondered, being a Bitter Bag is nothing like Jesus. 

If we're in need of an attitude change, let's ask God to help us. Someone said yesterday that when they felt down and discouraged, they found someone to help and it always made the day better. Whether we're down and discouraged or not, why not find someone to help. We can make our day, and theirs, lots better by being part of a community that ares. 

In fact, we might just be the one on whom "the day when hope rushes in and praises pours out" depends. 

Be that one.

Serve Jesus by serving others. 

"The King will reply, 'Truly, I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for Me." Matthew 25:40 niv

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In case you missed it, here's the link to yesterday's post: Caregiver Chronicles: When Times are Hard and You Can't Recognize Your Blessings

If this is your first time to read about the Sam adventures and the Caregiver Chronicles, you might want to read this post to see how it started: When the Time to Move Finally Comes

If you feel led to partner with this ministry (US, Middle East, the digital world), here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

Or you can mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line

#sistersofstrength #bodyofChrist 

Doing Life Together: The Beauty of Multi-Generational Community

A while back, the Sisters of Strength invited me to "do life" with them. They're a crazy-in-love-with-Jesus bunch of women who are completely serious about living a deep faith. I didn't know all of them personally at the time, but I could see the lives they live, and I readily joined in. Well, I'm really "in" from a distance, but they've loved me and prayed for me through every bit of ministry I've done these last eight months.

I couldn't do a thing without the Sisters and people like them who pray me through.

Last night, I finally attended a meeting. I took our Global intern, Anna Grace, along. It was a rowdy time, filled with laughter and sharing and food and a few tears. 

As we were driving home, Anna Grace said, "I wish I had that."

"Wish you had what?"

"What those ladies have."

"What those ladies have was hard won, Anna Grace. Every one of those ladies has been through tough times. They know they've been forgiven much, so they love much." 

"Yeah. I can see that. But they've got multi-generational community, too, and I want that. I was as welcome around the table as anyone else."

Anna Grace was right. The Sisters of Strength made a decision a good while back to commit to community and that's the key. They "do life together," and they're serious about it. They meet every week (mostly) for prayer, Bible study, and a meal together.

Along the way, they've shared good times and bad and helped each other through everything they've faced. They've held each other accountable. They call each other out when they speak wrongly. They forgive quick and love hard.

They're a formidable force for Christ because they work together. 

Remember the personal care packs for homeless people I wrote about a few days ago? The Sisters of Strength were doing them long before me. "How many did we do that last time?" someone asked. "Oh, about 365, I think," someone responded. 

They accomplish a LOT because they work together to get it done. 

Last week, a group of young women in my church approached me. "Miss Leanna, the Bible says the younger women are supposed to learn from the older women."

"Yes, it does. I know that verse." 

"We realized at small group that we need to learn to pray better, and you know how. Will you teach us?"

Of course I will. One of the young women had a need, so we all met at the altar Sunday morning to pray. I'll meet with them at their weekly meeting in a few days. 

Those young ladies are doing what the Sisters are doing. They've made a decision to do what the Bible says, and they're sticking to it. They study together, pray for each other, bear each other's burdens, hold each other accountable. 

It requires dedication and commitment, but it's worth it.

They've invited me to be a little part of their group for a time, and just like that, they've accomplished multi-generational community.

We were never meant to live life in isolation. We were created for community. Join in or stand back. The choice is ours to make.

We can surround ourselves with people who look, dress, and live just like us, but that group isn't likely to challenge us to change. 

Look at the disciples. They were a disparate band of irregulars, with wealthy tax collectors living and working alongside fishermen. Some were old. Some were young. It was multi-generational community at its best.

We need the enthusiasm of youth. We need the wisdom of age. We need the bond of commitment and the accountability of consistent contact with people who challenge us to grow and learn and become more than we are. More like Jesus. 

What about you? Do you have multi-generational community? I'm not talking about the people on the pews at church on Sunday morning. I'm referring to the people who hold you accountable for your words and actions. The ones who laugh with you, cry with you, pray with you. If not, why not? What's holding you back?

Let's reach outside our comfort zone to include a few people who will help us become more like Jesus than we are on our own. 

"Bear one another's burdens, and thus fulfill the law of Christ." Gal 6:2 nasb

"But if, however, you are fulfilling the royal law, according to the Scripture, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself,' you are doing well." James 2:8 nasb

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ps - I said I was going to write about millennials in the church today, but I'm saving that for another day. I'll get to it. 

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In case you missed it, here's the link to yesterday's post: What is Our Heart Cry?

If you feel led to partner with this ministry (US, Jordan, the digital world), here's the link to give your tax-deductible donations: Global Outreach Acct 4841 

Or you can mail your check or money order to: Global Outreach/ PO Box 1, Tupelo MS 38802. Be sure to put Account 4841 in the "for" line.
#Jesus

Living after

Tuesday afternoon, not quite 24 hours after Jamie took her last breath in this world, the minister finished his beautiful, love-filled sermon, said a prayer, and pronounced us "dismissed". We were free to go. 

Of course, we didn't go. We milled around, chatting, hugging Sam, and whispering behind his back. Every whisper was some variation of "Is he going to be alright?" I wanted to say, "Of course, he's going to be alright. I'll take care of him. I won't let him be anything but alright." I know that's a ridiculous answer.

It may sound like pride talking, but it's not. It's fear. 

I fear the living after, for sometimes spouses who remain find that the living after is too hard. They can't muster the will to press on and, before you know it, the one left behind gives up and dies, as well. 

I fear Sam will be one of those too-quickly-gone surviving spouses.

In the midst of my occasionally messy life, I've learned a little about loss. It's always hard, and losing someone we love is especially hard. It hurts a long time. When you least expect it, the pain of loss will jab you in the heart and nearly knock you off your feet. A few times, that sneaky pain-jab has not just knocked me off my feet. It laid me flat on my face, and it was a good thing. 

Face to the floor, I poured the pain in my broken heart before God and He took it. He adjusted it. He made something new. He brought me through.

I cannot bear, not even for one second, the thought that Sam might give up and die. That he might not find the will to press through his loss is unthinkable. I know it happens, so don't tell me. I don't want to consider it, not even for a minute. 

The truth, though, is that we will all die, including Sam. One day, the loss I'm grieving will be the man I love the most. Sam's been my daddy, my granddaddy, my dearest friend, my wisest counselor. He has taught me truth I didn't know I needed. He's gently molded me into the woman I have become. 

He's filled some mighty big shoes, and he's done it with more grace than I deserve. 

I love this good man and, as I escorted him into the home that has been filled with so much love, the home that now seems like an empty shell, I choked back tears. Other than Ryan, I love Sam more than anyone else on this earth. His joys are my joys. His sorrows are my sorrows, and this week, his sorrow is overwhelming. 

Most of the people at the funeral knew that I was leaving town the next day. Most people asked, "How can I help?" To every person who asked, I said the same thing. "Go check on him." 

When we are grieving, the thing we need the most is not platitudes. The thing we need the most is for those we love to surround us. To be quiet with us. To weep with us. To be present with us. To help us find our way from grief to life again. 

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4

Comfort. That's what Sam will need, and I left town knowing that I can trust those who also love him. The good people of Blue Springs will stop by his house, spend a few minutes at the store talking with him, take him some supper. They will comfort him with their presence and surround him with their love.

The blessing of community is invaluable, but there is even greater help available. I'm counting on the God who has sustained Sam through every other loss he's endured to carry him through this loss, as well. 

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3

There is no wound we have that God cannot heal, no sorrow He cannot comfort. Sam knows the truth of that promise and so do I. We're counting on it to carry him through. 

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Here are the links to previous posts in this series:  The eternal destination, The Vigil, A Little Help from My Friends, Keeping My Word, Deathbed Priorities, Deathbed Priorities, part 2, Death is Not The End., and Shifting Our Sorrow. 

#grief #griefrecovery #comfortthosewhomourn #Jesus #community

Thanks for traveling this journey with us. There's more to come, and tomorrow, we'll have something other than sorrow to celebrate. I don't know what yet, but I'm sure we will. See you then.