6 Comfort the Sick
How might we comfort the sick, especially now that we must maintain our distance?
- Send flowers or fruit or candy.
- Write the ailing person a letter. Send a card.
- Bring soup, or a meal for the rest of the family.
- Donate for research to the Cancer Society or a similar foundation.
- Phone someone who is sick. Try FaceTime on a smart phone so they can see you, too.
- Or, when it is allowed, sit with them and offer comfort and encouragement.
Night Shift
Martha was a bit confused. Feeling muddled struck more and more often lately, but it certainly seemed that her favorite statue of Mary had climbed down off its shelf and was now sitting with her on her bed.
“What are you looking at?” Asked Miriam, pointing to papers in Martha’s hands.
“Results from a memory test I took,” Martha answered. “My children arranged it. They are arranging a lot of things lately.”
“They love you and worry about you. What do the results say?”
“Moderate dementia.” Martha shrugged. “I suppose it’s true. Lately I show up for things either at the wrong time or on the wrong day. I can’t remember all my grandchildren’s names, let alone the great-grandchildren. My son says I have four great-great grandchildren, but that can’t be true. I’m not that old.”
“What a Godsend to see your family grow!” Miriam said to the elderly woman. “One of the blessings in the Bible is to see your children’s children. Very few get to live long enough to see as many generations as you.”
“But now it seems I am outliving my mind. Losing important memories. And I suppose it will only get worse.” Martha set down the papers and removed her reading glasses. “Who am I, if not a collection of the memories of my life? Who will remember my story when I can’t?”
“The diseases of this life that slowly take away a person’s memories are certainly a sorrow. But you know the Father can turn even this to good.”
“What good can it possibly be to slowly stop knowing all I worked so many years to learn? What worth is there in the remainder of a life like that?”
“Martha,” Miriam said softly, “isn’t a newborn’s life a precious treasure, even though he or she holds no memories?”
Martha scowled, suspecting where this line of thought was going, so Miriam continued. “That little bundle of joy and demands can teach a parent to discover what it is to love unconditionally, even though the newborn gives nothing in return, not even a smile until it is older.”
The statue-now-woman looked intently into Martha’s eyes. “We don’t understand all God’s ways, or how He works all things for good, even devastating things like this, but perhaps He is giving your family and friends and caretakers a gift by allowing them to serve you.”
“I don’t want to be a burden to anyone! I want to continue to be useful, to help people!” Martha would have stomped her foot if she hadn’t been sitting on her bed where her feet didn’t reach the floor.
“And bless you for that desire. But believe me, as difficult as the time ahead may be for everyone, eventually your family will look back and count your final days with them as a blessing. Yes, they will be sad if you reach a point when you don’t know who they are anymore, but they will know you! They will carry the memories of you as precious gifts. And have faith; you will rise whole and healthy again in the next life. This suffering is temporary, and your reward will be immeasurable and permanent!”
Martha sighed. “Aging seems to be a tiresome series of letting go, one thing after another. I miss my own home, and yes, I’m grateful, of course, that my son has taken me into his home, but I miss my healthy, flexible body. I miss being able to eat whatever I wanted before I had to start watching my salt intake, my cholesterol levels, or my blood sugar. I miss driving! Must I really let go of my memories, too?”
“Only God knows what lies ahead, but I promise you, He is good: all loving, all merciful, all wise. He will be with you.”
Martha nodded. Yes, there was comfort in that, knowing He would be with her, even if she no longer knew Him. She bowed her head—and her will—and did what she had done many times before. She placed herself in His hands and her life at His disposal. With that came peace.
When she looked up again, she laughed to see her Mary statue back on the shelf, with the same serene face she always wore. Had her statue truly climbed down and joined her on her bed? Maybe it didn’t matter. Her future might not always allow her to tell what was real and what wasn’t, but Martha knew that tonight’s message touched her heart with profound truth.
(Excerpt from my Miriam’s Joy!)
May God bless your week and protect your health.