My father-in-law is approaching his 92nd birthday. The once gruff, opinionated man who intimidated me, has become more childlike as Alzheimer’s has robbed him of his words, his ability to handle tools, and nearly all his mobility. The gaze of his clear, blue eyes is as piercing as ever, but tempered now by astonishment when something strikes him funny, which is fairly often. Three years ago, my husband and I moved into his parents’ home, in part as downsizing empty-nesters, but more with the intention of being onsite to help care for them and thus enable them to remain in their home for as long as possible. Aid has been given in a variety of ways and with an eye for respecting their autonomy. We have watched the sad, steady decline of his father and the brave, hopeful attitude of his mother.
While viewing this suffering and sadness, and praying that it will mercifully end, as surely as it must, I struggle with the fear of what those final moments and loss will feel like. Will I be able to cope? With the exception of my grandparents who died long ago, I have never been close to anyone as they “pass over.” I have never witnessed firsthand the heart-rending grief of someone I love so deeply, as I do my mother-in-law, when a beloved dies. In short, I am afraid of the intensity of the emotion that I anticipate will come.
This is not the only situation where I feel completely in new emotional territory. Both sets of parents are now in their more vulnerable years--increasingly so as time marches on. A critically ill sibling also preoccupies my thoughts and sets up a “worry station” in my mind, interfering with my sleep on occasion. I work with the elderly at a day program and have lost many elders over the past several years. My faith in God has helped steady me, yet there are those worries and “parasitical anxieties” that seem never to be too far off the horizon, until yesterday.
God answered my deepest cries for help and assurance with a rehearsal -- something with which I have a lot of experience! It reminds me of how Jesus used metaphor and real-life objects that were familiar to those whom he was teaching. And He met me, right where I was, in a way that connected deeply with me: through song and imagery. It added up to what I can only call a profound visit of the Lord.
It occurred during worship yesterday as I was helping lead the praise songs. The Communion table was set with its white cloth upon which the silver plated cup trays with its domed lid were stacked. White cloth napkins embraced large pieces of bread, and the two tall white candles were lit in their heavy, gold-colored candlesticks. The church was two-thirds full and I was moved to see the faces of some deeply hurting people, newly returned to our congregation. We had already sung, “Come Thou, Almighty King,” and “Great is the Lord!” My heart was filled with the knowledge of God’s holiness and faithfulness. We moved into “I’m Forgiven” and my gaze took in the Communion table as I pondered God’s amazing love and Jesus’ death for me. Finally, as we transitioned from that beautiful chorus to our final one, “Lord You Have My Heart,” I looked around to my right where I expected to see my husband picking up his violin to play the intro. He wasn’t there. Where could he be? I shifted my gaze to the back of the sanctuary where he often helps in the sound booth; not there either. And as I continued to sing, “Lord you have my heart, and I will worship you, Jesus take my hand and lead me on…” I felt certain that my husband was speeding home, after receiving a call from his brother that their father had died. It was not the case; however, God met me in that thought and before my heart could clutch and the tears form behind my eyelids, His Presence held me fast. Deep calm flooded me, and the Communion table, where God’s great love is demonstrated in the blood of my Savior, held my gaze like a magnet. I knew at that point that when the time really comes, I will be all right – more than all right; not because I wish it so, or prepared myself by reading about what to expect at “end-of-life”, but because God Himself, the God of Love, will be with me. “And lo, I am with you until the end of the age.” Hallelujah!
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