In the Bible, in the second letter to the Corinthians, Paul talks about how being weak is a good thing in God’s economy. To summarize, if we feel pride and can brag about our accomplishments, we are delusional about ourselves, but if we realize our weaknesses, we can brag about those because it is in those that God is most glorified. His strength is made perfect when we are weak. He shows his grace to be enough for us, in any situation.
In the past few weeks I have watched my grandfather’s general wellbeing decline, to the point that he was no longer able to walk. He would get dizzy and imbalanced and weak whenever he walked with his walker, even a few steps. So I took him to the doctor on Friday, and the doc was very worried and sent him to the hospital.
Mike was home Friday so I was able to spend all day in the ER with him. Stanley will tell you that getting old stinks. He has had to give up control over his own life and even his own body. He doesn’t boast in his weakness.
My first reaction is not to admit weakness either. I get anxious and start planning everything, trying to think through and control every detail. Care for my grandmother with dementia becomes paramount. I’ve known they really needed higher level care for awhile but I feared moving them again. I was traumatized the last time I moved them last summer.
Making decisions is necessary, but hard. Worrying about doing the exact best thing is unecessary. No matter what I do, it’s all in His hands anyway.
Mike had to go out of town for a project Saturday and still isn’t back. I’ve dragged my kids around town, to the hospital and running errands for my grandmother, to tour various facilities, etc. I’ve been totally on my own in this, and at times I feel incredibly weak.
Kills me to even say that. You can thank Brene Brown for that confession.
So I pray. I read 2nd Corinthians and the Psalms and lots of other scriptures. I admit my inability to control everything and admit my fear and anxiety. In return God places a few people in my path at just the right time. Helpful nurses, my grandparents’ pastor, smart friends with opinions of care places. Pieces start to fall together. I have hope of a good outcome from this crisis.
In the next few days my grandfather will move to a rehab place nearby and my grandmother will move to a Memory Care center nearby. I hope he can join her in a few weeks.
He wants and needs to meet his newest great-grandaughter, Rose.