Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. (Ephesians 5:1-3; NIV).
Another Veteran’s Day has come and
gone, another wreath was laid at the Tomb of the Unknowns, and we celebrated
the memories of those who have laid down their lives for their friends. I
proudly remembered the year of my father’s youth being spent offering himself
to the people of Korea. And, we recently were witness to the terroristic
atrocities in Paris and more hostile sacrifices.
Below, are excerpts from the book I
am writing, encouraging caregivers from a spiritual perspective; the working
title is “Regifted Grace: Authenticity of the Beatitudes.” These excerpts
relate to sacrifice, which occurs daily in the life of every caregiver of a
loved one with Alzheimer’s.
When I was young, I remember seeing
dad wearing his green Army fatigue cap and shirt, usually when he was painting
or puttering around the house. To me, they were just work clothes.
I have vivid memories of seeing his sparkling blue eyes poking out from
underneath the brim of his green hat, his bright smile bringing warmth to my
soul. I knew he had been in the Army; but, in those days, most of my
friends’ dads had served at some point in their lives and it just seemed, well,
“normal.” While I took notice of his smile, I didn’t take notice of the
significance of what he was wearing.
After dad passed away and we sifted
through his personal effects that were left behind, I took a deep interest in
reading through his discharge papers, as well as through program books from
Korean War reunions. Because dad served in two campaigns, he was given
the Korean Service Medal with two bronze service stars. He also received
his United Nations Service Medal. I dug deeper.
Over 5 million American troops led
the United Nations forces in Korea. It appears that dad’s battalion of
the 7th Infantry Division served as a backup position to the front line.
Dad was a light weapons infantryman and truck driver. In early 1952, the
front line got ambushed; from what I have read, dad’s line may have been called
to rescue the injured. Dad could not have been without fear; he was a
young man of 23 years, serving a nation that was half a world away from
everything he used to know. But, sacrifice and bravery won
out.
On one of the plaques at the
Arkansas Korean War Memorial in Little Rock, it states that “The beginning of
courage is fear. Every soldier feels it. Bravery is not the lack of
fear, but the ability to overcome it and do your duty.” Sacrifice is not
without fear; bravery is service to others.
My husband and I recently visited
the Korean War Memorial in Washington, D.C., which was dedicated in 1995, not
yet bearing the names of those who were wounded or who paid the ultimate
sacrifice. As we got closer to the outdoor memorial and I could begin to
see the 19 stainless steel statues in the cool October afternoon sun, I
couldn’t control my tears; I tried to hide my face from the other silent
strangers as my tears fell to the ground.
The statues depict an advance party
of soldiers from each of the four service branches, standing in Juniper bushes,
separated by granite strips symbolizing the rice paddies of Korea. Each
soldier is wearing a poncho to cover their weapons and equipment.[i]
Their faces held the exhaustive fear that leeched their souls.
A chill went through me as I could
literally see my father’s face in every one of those 19 statues. I could
feel his emotion as he trudged through the rice paddies, in the bitterness of
the winter, carrying his rifle and communications device. I could feel
his fear and how he had to dig deep to find bravery to overcome his fear.
I could understand why men like dad didn’t want to talk about a war where so
many died because of an enemy act of aggression. They saw thousands of
orphaned children and a lifetime of death.
I have an even deeper love for my
dad after having experienced this memorial. I could feel his presence
within me, and, for the first time, I truly understood his sacrifice in the
forgotten war. Dad offered himself as a living sacrifice so others could
be free. A huge, granite mural at the National Memorial reminds us that
“Freedom is Not Free.”
Over 15 years ago, Romans 12:1-2
became my “life verse,” which is a Bible verse believed to be representative of
a person’s life, much like a mission statement.[ii]
Therefore, I urge you, brothers and
sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,
holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform
to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing
and perfect will.[iii]
Another translation says “Don’t
become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even
thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside
out.”[iv]
These powerful verses have become
the procedure manual for my life, guiding me through so many circumstances of
my life.
They start by reminding me that, by
God’s mercy, Christ paid the ultimate sacrifice for my sins (past, present and
future) in order for me to be presented holy before God. Freedom is not
free; Christ paid a painful price to carry my sins on His shoulders at the
cross; it came at a high cost on a lonely cross. And, because of
His selfless act of courage, I can stand confident in the presence of God and
be changed “from the inside out.”
Sacrifice is defined as surrendering
something for the sake of something else.[v]
In my dad’s case, and millions of others, he surrendered his safety for freedom
of others that he would never meet.
Daily surrendering our lives and our
will (our living sacrifice) to God is contrary to the world’s view of living
for self. Rather, living sacrificially for Christ keeps our focus on Him
so that we can be transformed to HIS image, not that of the world. In
other words, we can be changed from the inside out, presenting ourselves to God
as holy, pure and pleasing. You’re blessed when you get your
inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside
world.[vi]
As we love and provide care for
those with Alzheimer’s, we offer our lives as a living sacrifice. We are
giving up our own needs, time, money, jobs, health and freedom to help someone
else who might not even be able to thank us. God sees every struggle and
every sacrifice; how we walk through this difficult journey is our spiritual
act of worship and it is transforming us from the inside out.
I will admit that I was fearful of
the journey upon which we were embarking. Fearful of the changes, fearful
of the sacrifices, fearful of the day that mom won’t remember who I am.
Being fearful is not a sign of weakness; it is merely beginning of courage and
bravery. Caregivers are courageous soldiers, overcoming fears and
challenges to serve others.
When dad was living with
Alzheimer’s, mom was fearful, too. She often struggled with the emotional
pain she felt when he no longer knew her, didn’t know their anniversary, and
couldn’t converse anymore. But, she was a courageous soldier for
dad. Nearly every day, she drove the 20 miles to the nursing home; her
car rims showing the scarring from scuffing the curbs on the Ozark roads.
She wept silently as she began her journey back into depression. Recent
studies report that spouses of loved ones with Alzheimer’s have a six-fold
greater chance of developing Alzheimer’s from the stress.[vii]
Mom, the soldier, is now one of the casualties.
Feeling stuck or
"challenged" because this journey hurts? I cry often for the
things that are lost because this disease took my dad and is now taking my
mom. But, rather than mourning the losses, I rejoice in the gains.
My faith has grown. My life is being further transformed by the renewing
of my mind and soul. I am able to spend the last years of mom's life
helping to care for her. I get to see her smile, make her laugh, and make
her use soap in the shower. Through caring for my parents, God is
teaching me how to not count the losses, but to count the gains, and unleash
the chains that hold me captive.
Every day that we love and/or care
for someone with Alzheimer’s, new fires manifest themselves, and we are
challenged to exhibit a sacrificial, pure faith. We are surrounded by
battles on all sides from medical issues, family issues, relationship issues,
memory issues, agitation, legal issues, safety issues, housing issues, job
issues, and financial issues. We are putting up with unimaginable
aggravation and sadness. In the process, we are being refined by the
fires of life, and the purity of our hearts and our faith can be proven
genuine, holy and pleasing to God. Before God, it’s not WHAT we do, but
it’s all about HOW we do it. In other words, we can do a lot of good
things (the “what”), but, if our heart or motives are in the wrong place (the
“how”), our faith will not be proven genuine and will not be pleasing to God.
Traveling the difficult
road of Alzheimer’s with someone we love has plenty of detours.
Many days are “vacuum cleaner” days where the life is sucked right out of
us. It’s easy to complain because life hurts. No one would blame us
for having a bad day. But, if our bad days turn into a “bad” life, this
will impact our loved ones and our “spiritual act of worship.”
Again, what’s truly on display for others to witness is not what we do,
but how we do it.
We caregivers wear a lot of
hats. We are life managers, servants, stewards, God-seekers, prayer
warriors, first responders, grace regifters and strength coaches. We are
moms, dads, daughters, sons, siblings, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews
and friends. If we are willing to offer our service as a living
sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, as our spiritual act of worship, we can
transform the lives of those who receive our care and compassion. If we
seek God with a pure heart, we will find Him (our vertical relationship).
When we find Him, we can regift His grace with goodness.
I love you. Thank you for your sacrifice.
[i]
See www.koreanwarvetsmemorial.org
for more information.
[ii]
Tim Stewart (2015), www.dictionaryofchristianese.com/life-verse
[iii]
Romans 12:1-2 (NIV)
[iv]
Romans 12:1-2, in part (Message)
[v]
Merriam-Webster online.
[vi]
Matthew 5:8 (MSG)
[vii]
Norton et al., “Greater Risk of Dementia When Spouse Has Dementia? The Cache
County Study,” Journal of the American Geriatrics Society, April 2010
©2015 Regifted Grace Ministry LLC
Photo taken at the Korean War Memorial, Washington, D.C. (2015)
