Chasing Away the Blues Jesus' Way (Part One)

So, here's one of those moments where I give you a peak at my life for the last year.

My mom has dementia, and has lived with us since 2015. As you can imagine, I repeat myself quite a bit; but it's not like a Sunday afternoon visit at the local nursing home, or Christmas with your grandparents. It's waaaay more than just, "Granny, you told me that story already." Mom has trouble understanding and articulating -- anything. So, my day is more like...

"Mom, comb your hair." "Huh?" "Comb your hair."

"Mom, put your shoes on." "Huh?" "Put your shoes on."

"Mom, put your coat on." "Huh?" "Put your coat on."

Now, I could just do those things for her and save myself a lot of trouble, but she feels useless enough some days. So there's that to combat; constantly look for things she can do so she continues to "be important." There are lights left on, and dirty clothes refolded amongst the clean, and multiple unnecessary toilet flushes throughout the day. There is the pacing and anxiety. But the thing that weighs most heavily on me, is the need. Not the need for me to do all those things she cannot; that's easy. It's the need for me to be.

Mom looks to me for cues. If I'm ordering the omelet, she should want the omelet. If I'm laughing, it must be funny. If I'm rising from my chair, she must be going somewhere as well. Those things are definitely annoying, but it is more -- the need for me to do those things, to give her those cues, to be ever-mindful she is watching in order for her to feel safe. If I am where she can see me, life is OK; but if I am not... I am constantly "on", smiling, reassuring her, "carrying" her, and for an introvert like me... Well, let's just say, it has led to some moments of deep despair and dysfunction.

This morning I was reading Luke 24. Jesus' followers have seen Him, resurrected, speaking, but they -- verse 41 -- "still did not believe for joy." They had experienced so much pain and grief, they refused to believe something joyous had happened. It wasn't simply a death-to-life thing that had them in disbelief -- they had seen the dead raised to life before -- it was that the One they loved, the One taken so brutally from them, had returned. Tragedy had become triumph. Loss was now life!

I recognize that kind of disbelief. I have searched for purpose in all of this: "Lord, what are You teaching me? How are You changing or preparing me? Why have You brought me to this place?" And when He doesn't reveal it to me, I sulk, slipping into feelings of loneliness and purposelessness. The kind of feelings that make me want to pull the covers over my head and stay in bed all day.

Jesus' followers felt that way also. In Luke 22:45, as Jesus prayed fervently in the garden, He returned to His disciples and "found them sleeping from sorrow." They were so hopeless, so grieved, they slept, sorrow pulling them into a sort of giving up.

Friend, with Jesus, that is never the end of the story -- not so long as we are willing to listen to what He has to say, and see what He is willing to do. In both of Luke's accounts, Jesus responds to His followers' humanity in a way only He can; and He responds to us today as well. Please join me tomorrow, and I will show you what He has shown me.