Pastor Barney Cargile (of Barney’s Bullets) was a guest speaker at our church a few weeks ago and shared a poignant story about a deer caught in barbed wire. His wife, Linda, is an amazing woman of faith and has a way with animals. When the neighbor came for help, Linda went out with wire cutters to free the poor deer. Of course, the animal didn’t understand she had come to help free it, so, terrified, it struggled frantically, trying to escape its painful, life-threatening situation. The deer wounded itself even more with its efforts to be free before Linda could cut the wires that held it.
What a picture of the way we can be when we find ourselves caught in some self-made or other imposed situation and in pain. I think of the countless times I’ve tried to work things out for myself rather than “bother God”. You’d think I’d know better after walking with Jesus for forty plus years. But it’s so easy to fall back into the flesh, and then learn all over again that the problem just gets bigger, heavier, and more crushing to the body and spirit. Sometimes I send up a “shotgun” prayer. But is it really prayer if I’m not willing to submit? Am I really asking for help or merely complaining that I haven’t succeeded in solving the situation by using the old tried-and-failed habits of trying to monitor, manage, and administer everything.
Caregiving is brutal! It wreaks havoc with the heart, mind, body, and soul when you can only do what you can do and witness the slow progression of a fatal disease. Of course, life itself is fatal to the body. This earthly body, anyway. You’d think that would be enough to comfort a Christian. The truth is I hate seeing my husband Rick suffer. I hate that I can’t protect him from sudden, hard falls. I hate even more that he feels less a man because he can’t take care of me and do all the things he used to do, when, in fact, he shows more courage every day, dealing with adversity and physical pain, than anyone I know. I hate that the sin we humans brought into the world causes so much suffering!
There is a God, and I am not Him. I know that’s true. In my head. But then, there I am, the helicopter wife, hypervigilant until a professional caregiver comes in and I can “relax”. I know worry is one of my habitual sins, one with long generational roots that constantly need yanking out. Sometimes on a daily – hourly – basis.
Oh, how I know I am not alone in this journey. I know friends who have gone through it. I know friends going through it now. Maybe you are, too. Over the last couple of years, I have seen so many of our older saints travel the road home with loving spouses walking alongside them up to the door of heaven. And I wonder. How many couples wish they could go inside that door hand-in-hand rather than one at a time?
What do I know about the plans of God other than all things work together for good for those who love God and are called to His purpose. So, I cry, and then I remind myself every morning and evening out by the fence looking out at the oak trees and pastureland that this earthly life is not all there is, and I am thankful, so thankful that God is with me and Rick, and His promises are His bond. Rick’s life is secure in Him – as is mine.