I Won’t be Attending General Conference But . . . .

UM-General-Conference1920x485-1024x259I’m going to miss an important event in Methodist history–the called session of the General Conference in St. Louis, February 23-27.

A lot is at stake as delegates wrestle with ways to deal with the important matters of homosexuality and the interpretation of Scripture. The decisions made will chart the denomination’s future for decades.

Missing the conference makes me sad! I feel some guilt for my absence.  Although as a retired bishop I have no official duties,  I do feel responsible to be present in support of colleagues and delegates.

I know from previous General Conferences that significant things happen apart from the formal sessions. Old friendships are renewed and new ones formed. The vast diversity of the denomination is on full display.

Great music! Outstanding preaching! Challenging speeches! Profound worship!

I’ll miss all of that!

I must forego the experience. But, I’ll be pursuing my current primary vocational calling, care-partner for my wife of 57 years.

What I will be doing seems small and insignificant when compared to the history-making decisions. Nothing I will be doing will get publicity or make the history books.

I’ll be doing little things–holding Linda’s hand, combing her hair, feeding her, brushing her teeth, assuring her she isn’t alone, just sitting quietly as she sleeps.

There are important connections between what I’ll be doing and what’s happening in St. Louis.

We both will be doing sacred work!  Both will involve strong emotions, including grief and disappointment. God will be present with us!

Both have to do with what it means to love! Who to love! How to love! What it means to love faithfully, as Christ loves us!

Love isn’t an abstraction for me. She’s lying in the bed nearby, with her hand in mine. Love, in the final analysis, is an embodied practice rather than a pontifical pronouncement.

I hope love isn’t an abstraction in St. Louis. May it be embodied in

  • ears that listen attentively,
  • tongues that speak tenderly and truthfully,
  • hands that clasp and serve joyfully,
  • arms that embrace hospitably,
  • hearts that beat compassionately,
  • minds that exhibit the mind that was in Christ Jesus,
  • actions that manifest the breadth of God’s love and justice.

I won’t be trying to convince Linda that she is wrong, or less than, or inadequate, or sinful, or outside the norm.

Instead, I will be trying to empathetically enter her world, see the world as she is seeing it, assure her that she is valued amid her confusion, and loved unconditionally by God and by me.

I genuinely pray that what happens in St. Louis will be akin to what will be happening in our home, and in the countless homes across our world as people seek to love one another as Christ loves us, regardless of

  • race,
  • ethnicity,
  • political affiliations,
  • theological perspectives,
  • sexual orientation, or
  • physical and intellectual capacities.

I won’t be physically present in St. Louis, but I’ll be watching and praying. . . . and continuing to love!

 

 

 

“What do you fear most about growing old?”

“What do you fear most about growing old?” This was a question for breakout groups after a presentation on “Living with Purpose and Joy at Any Age.”

Among the most frequent answers to such a question are “losing my mind,” “not being able to do for myself,” “being a burden,” “running out of money,” “becoming frail and incompetent,” and “having to go to a nursing home.”

This response especially caught my attention: “I fear being taken care of by people who don’t love me.”

Being one of the elderly myself and having spent a lot of time in recent years among frail, infirm, and dependent people, I have an inkling from whence that fear arises. And, regrettably, the fear has legitimacy.

Care of the elderly has become a major commercial enterprise where efficiency, financial profitability, and getting past the next regulatory inspection are the operational priorities.

Most care facilities in the United States operate on a medical model in which people are treated for their physical and mental frailties. Residents (patients) are categorized by their symptoms and levels of incapacitation.

The frail elderly are treated as dependent recipients of medical care dispensed largely by over-worked, minimally trained, under paid, and seldom affirmed employees.

What if the paradigm for care of the elderly were shifted from dispensing medicine to sharing love and extending hospitality, countering the fear of “being cared for by people don’t love me”?

Such a shift would require honoring the dignity, worth, and uniqueness of each person as a beloved child of God, regardless of his/her capacities.

Being cared for by people who love me means:

  • being present with and attentive to me
  • knowing my likes and dislikes, my longings and regretsClasping hands 2
  • listening to my stories, even if I tell them over and over
  • talking to me tenderly and sensitively
  • treating me as a beloved member of the family
  • letting me share my gifts as well as accept yours
  • being excited to see me when we’ve be apart
  • smiling as though you enjoy who I am
  • advocating for me when I can’t speak for myself
  • being patient with me when I can’t understand clearly or do quickly
  • getting inside and understanding my world
  • remembering that I was once younger like you and you one day will  be old like me
  • knowing that the best medicine you can give me is your love

While being cared for by people who love us may be especially urgent for the frail elderly, everyone of whatever age or station wants such treatment–children in schools, inmates in prisons, patients in hospitals, employees in businesses, students in universities,  members in congregations, families in homes.

I suspect that our fear of growing old and frail would be greatly diminished if we knew that we would be cared for by people who love us. After all, “There is no fear in love for perfect love casts out fear” (1John 4:18).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Will We Bear Witness to the Gospel or to Our Brokenness?

The nation is perilously divided along political, racial, economic, gender,  and cultural lines. Hatred, disrespect, and cruelty toward “the other” have become acceptable public behavior and a normalized political strategy.

Tribalism and ideological warfare threaten any sense of commonality and mock the ideal of “one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

Where is the church, particularly the denomination which has shaped my life–The United Methodist Church?

At the general church level, we are mirroring the divisions within the nation! Groups are quarreling over human sexuality and the interpretation of Scripture.

Local congregations and individual members are being pushed into ideological corners with secularly devised labels of “traditionalists” and “progressives.”

This isn’t the first time Methodists have mirrored national divisions. We divided over slavery and, thereby, the church became complicit in the violence of the Civil War.

Current arguments and rationalizations echo those advanced by preachers in 19th century. Once again the Bible is being used as a weapon of ideological warfare rather than as the authentic witness to God’s mighty acts of salvation, supremely in Jesus Christ.

Just at the time the nation and world need a model of unity amid differences, United Methodist leaders seek ways to separate; thereby,  countering our “oneness in Jesus Christ” and weakening our witness to the Christian gospel.

Whatever rationalizations we may use to convince ourselves that we are defending truth and upholding morality,  to the world a division will bear witness to our brokenness and hypocrisy.

Let us, instead, bear witness to the core gospel truth that God has already acted decisively in Jesus Christ to reconcile all things (Colossians 1:20). God has called the church to be instruments of reconciliation.

 “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation;  that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us” (2 Corinthians 5:18-19 NRSV).

Unity in Christ

This isn’t about unity for unity’s sake!  It’s unity as embodiment of witness to the gospel! God in Christ has already made us one! He has already broken down the dividing walls of hostility! That’s the gospel truth!

Failure to embody that good news in our life together as a denomination will mock the central message of the Christian Gospel: In Jesus Christ, God has broken down all dividing walls of hostility and claimed ALL as beloved sons and daughters!

The issue of homosexuality will not be resolved by legislation or denominational restructuring as proposed by any of the plans to be presented at the forthcoming called session of General Conference.

Resolution lies in living the oneness already existing in Jesus Christ by humbly struggling together to fully grasp God’s vision for the world and the church. “Traditionalists” and “progressives” need one another! A first step may be to do away with such simplistic labels and commit ourselves to God’s reign of compassion, justice, and hospitality.

It seems to me that the One Church Plan being proposed to the General Conference has the best chance of enabling United Methodists to pursue and live God’s vision for humanity expressed in Jesus’s prayer that “they might be one.”

Make no mistake about it: the world is watching! May our leaders bear witness to a unity that transcends uniformity, a unity God has already wrought in Jesus Christ.

Riding Dementia’s Roller Coaster

Anyone who lives with dementia must learn to ride emotional roller coasters. The rises and dips, twists and turns,  happen abruptly and without warning. Behaviors and moods of people with Alzheimer’s disease or other forms of dementia can dramatically change in a split second.

Caregivers know the experience well! A smile instantly turns to a scowl. Cooperation suddenly pivots to conflict. Calm explodes into rage. Affection gives way to rejection. Coherence suddenly gets shattered by confusion.

Sometimes the ride is exhilarating as an unexpected smile or moment of recognition appears. Other times the ride takes a plunge into the abyss of grief or turns sharply toward more confusion. Then, there are periods when the journey plateaus and moves ahead with relative calm and predictability.

But riding roller coasters is exhausting, even dangerous! I’m still learning and sometimes all I can do is hold on for dear life and brace myself for the final plunge downward. Yet, I’ve learned a few lessons.

One, don’t ride the rollercoaster by yourself! I need other people with me. . .to hold onto. . .to scream with me. . .to comfort me! We need others to steady us enduring the ups and downs, the twists and turns. And, it’s comforting to know that others are on the ride with you.

Two, scream when you feel like it! Screams are laments. Laments are not only therapeutic; they are the forerunners of hope. They are the weeping of the night in preparation for the joy that comes in the morning.

Three, relish each moment rather than fear the next twist or turn or dip. Learning to live in the present moment isn’t easy but it’s the only real time for those with dementia. Each moment contains potential life, love, and connection. Grab it before it’s gone!

Four, reach out and touch! A gentle touch or embrace of the one trapped in dementia’s turbulence brings solace to both. Touch communicates when words fail and thoughts flee.

Five, look up! The roller coaster isn’t the total reality. The sun and stars remain in their course. There is a world beyond the tumult of the present.

Six, sing! Music harmonizes, calms, inspires, touches deep places in the heart when the brain falters.

Seven, laugh! As the poet Robert Frost said, “If we couldn’t laugh, we would go insane!”

Eight, trust the permanence of love! “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end” (Lamentations 3:22). God’s love never ends. Neither does ours!

Love does more than survive roller coaster rides; love grows stronger through the ups and downs, the twists and turns. So, hold on tight to love!

 

 

 

“Not What Do You Believe, But What Do You DO?”

It was an unlikely place for a theological discussion! I was undergoing a medical test that required a lot of waiting and interaction with a technician.

Noting a book I was reading by Walter Brueggemann and having seen on my chart that I had taught at Duke, he asked, “Are you a liberal or conservative?”

“I don’t  really like labels. I’m liberal on some things and conservative on others,” I responded.

“Well, what do you believe?” he retorted.

“Believe about what?” I asked.

“About God, Jesus,  and the Bible,” he said.

“Wow, that’s a lot to cover. I have lots of beliefs about those topics, but I’m not sure that what I believe about them is the most important thing.”

“Oh? Then, what is most important about being religious?” he inquired with interest.

I replied, “I think a more important question is, What do you do? What do you practice? How do you behave, treat people?”

There followed several minutes of conversation about treating people with respect, dignity, compassion, justice, and hospitality.

“But beliefs are important, aren’t they?” he pushed.

I responded, “Definitely! They should motivate, form, and guide what we do. The validity of our beliefs is what kind of persons they produce. The test is what’s in our hearts more than what’s in our heads.”

Continuing, I added, “You asked me what I believe about God, Jesus, and the Bible. Here it is in a nutshell. I believe God is love and that love became flesh in Jesus who shows us what it means to love and empowers us to love one another as God loves us. The Bible is the story of the unfolding of that love.”

With calmness, he reflected, “So, you’re more concerned about what I do than what I believe? Right?”

I remarked: “I’m interested in both, but our actions reveal our true beliefs. Your kindness, respect, and compassion indicate to me that you know God as love, kindness, and justice. You may not even call that “God” but to practice love, generosity, hospitality, and justice is to “believe” in God as I understand the term.”

As the tests and wait continued, the conversation turned to our shared concern for loved ones living with dementia. He was no longer curious about whether I was “liberal” or “conservative,” and I still don’t know what his religious formulations are.

I do know that in that brief exchange two people treated one another with mutual respect, compassion, and dignity. In so doing, we pointed to what the Lord requires: “to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8 NRSV)

 

Linda’s Birthday

Birthdays are occasions to declare that people are stories rather than symptoms; and sharing love is the abiding theme of our stories. In the sharing of love, our stories intersect with God’s Story.
Thank you, Linda, for your remarkable story of love! Being part of that story is the greatest joy of my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

as Linda moves deeper into her dementia

An Unexpected Communion

It happened shortly after a visit last week from Karen, the hospice chaplain and friend who visits Linda regularly. We sat in the sunroom and listened to Linda as she mumbled  incoherently but keeping time with the music playing in the background.

As she always does, Karen ended her visit with a short prayer, calling Linda by name and asking Jesus to continue to be with her.

Shortly thereafter we returned Linda to her bed for her evening meal. As the caregiver, Arlene, slowly and gently placed the pureed food in Linda’s mouth, Linda slowly and clearly spoke these surprising words, “Have. . .  Communion. . . today.”

Arlene called to me to come from the kitchen where I was preparing Linda a dish of her favorite dessert, ice cream. She told me what Linda had just said. I asked if she wanted to have Communion. But, by this time, her thinking had moved on and her speech returned to scrambled words.

I ran to get grape juice and wafer which I keep on hand. By the time I returned, Linda was sound asleep.

Early the following morning before the caregiver arrived, I gave Linda her morning medication. She seemed especially alert, looking intently at me as I smiled and said, “I love you!”

I asked, “Linda, would you like Communion?” No visible response, only calm silence. I retrieved the chalice with grape juice and wafers.

Standing beside her bed, I sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “Amazing Grace.” Then I recited Psalm 23 and parts of Romans 8. She remained in uncharacteristic silence, even reverence. I prayed the Words of Institution from memory.

“We are remembering Jesus. He loves us and is with us now,” I said as I dipped the wafer in the cup and placed it on her tongue.

A slight smile and a glimmer of peace appeared on her face. “Thank you, Jesus, for loving us and being with us,” I prayed as I peered through my tear-stained eyes. She quickly drifted into a serene sleep.

It was a holy, transcendent moment of keep connection with God, one another, and “the great cloud of witnesses.”

The experience confirms the mystery of the Sacrament as well as the puzzle of the human mind. I don’t know for sure what triggered Linda’s comment, “have Communion today,” but I suspect it was Karen’s presence and prayer.

I really don’t know if she understood any of my words as I recited Scripture and sang familiar hymns. I can’t comprehend what was happening in her world as I placed on her tongue the signs of Jesus’ self-emptying love.

This I do know: There was more going on than can be intellectually understood by either Linda or me.

Furthermore, the most important ministry is PRESENCE! The chaplain’s attentive presence likely kindled an embedded memory and a connection that cannot be broken by brain disease!

 

 

Homily for Alzheimer’s Remembrance Service

 

Alzheimer's Awareness


[Below is the homily I delivered at an Awareness of Alzheimer’s Service held in the chapel of the retirement community where we live in recognition of Alzheimer’s Awareness.]

 

On a cold, rainy November day in 2009, Linda and I sat in the doctor’s office at Duke Medical Center awaiting the results of a series of neurological tests. The look on the faces of the doctor, nurse, and social worker foretold the somberness of the news.

With pathos in his voice and moisture in his eyes, the doctor said, “All the tests indicate that you, Mrs. Carder, have Frontotemperal Dementia.” There was that dreaded but suspected word “Dementia.”

Life hasn’t been the same since! Every aspect of our lives was altered—location, vocation, relationships, finances, and even how we understand ourselves, others, and God. The journey of “the long goodbye” confronts those on the journey with demanding challenges and perilous threats.

Little wonder that “dementia” has surpassed cancer as our most dreaded disease. It erases our past, transforms even family members into strangers, threatens our identity and sense of worth, and robs us of our capacities to think coherently and act decisively; and it cuts us off from community, thereby marginalizing and relegating us to a kind of exile.

Our family has lived with dementia for ten years. We know its devastation firsthand and experience it every moment of every day. I would not minimize the anguish involved, nor deny the relentless grief it entails.

But the awareness of Alzheimer’s and other dementias has deepened my awareness of two core affirmations of our faith. Let’s be aware of these affirmations as we remember those who live with these dreaded diseases called “dementia.”

One, our identity and worth and dignity do not lie in our individual memory, our intellect, or our capacities. We live in a hyper-rational, intellectual society that places primary value on productivity. Our sense of worth is derived from what we know, what we can produce.

We have bought into the Cartesian notion, “I think therefore I am.” Dementia relentlessly confounds our thinking and strips away our capacity to produce. But, it does not diminish our identity, our in worth, our dignity.

Our identity, worth, and dignity lie in the One to whom we belong, the one who breathed into us the divine spirit, nephish, stamped the divine image upon us, and redeemed us in Jesus Christ.

A Hebrew prophet of the Exile, declared “But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you: I have called you by name, you are mine“ (Isaiah 43:1).

We may forget who we are, but God does not forget us. We may forget God, but God has engravened us on the palm of His hands!

The author of First John states it clearly: “See what love the Father has for us that we should be called children of God. Beloved, that’s who we are! We are God’s children now! It does not yet appear what we shall be, but when he appears, we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is” (1 John 3:1-2).

Our worth, identity, dignity and destiny are derived from this: We are created by God out of love, we bear the divine image, and we have been redeemed in Jesus Christ!

When Alzheimer’s or other dementia causes us to forget who we are, it is our responsibility as community and family to hold one another’s identity. We do so by treating those with dementia with the utmost respect, compassion, attentiveness, accepting their gifts, knowing their stories, loving them for who they are now and not simply for who they have been.

That’s the second affirmation I’ve had reinforced by living with dementia for a decade: The purpose of human existence is to share in the Triune God’s dance of love. After all we were created out of love and sustained by love.

Love really is the only thing that endures. In the Apostle Paul’s hymn to love, he reminds us that knowledge passes away, tongues (language) ceases, but love never ends. He further declares in Romans that nothing in all creation, and that includes dementia, can separate us from God’s love.

Linda has lost all recollection of our 57 years of marriage and she only occasionally recognizes me.

I often wonder if she knows that I love her. I assure her throughout the day with caresses of her face, brushing her teeth, combing her hair, feeding her, seeing that she is cared for respectfully and with dignity. I operate with this manta: When in doubt, love!

I know this for certain: Linda has expanded my capacity to love without expectations or reciprocity. Still, there are those moments of deep connection when her love breaks through her confusion and incoherent speech. Sometimes it’s a squeeze of the hand, a momentary twinkle in the eye, a fleeting smile.

And, occasionally there comes, seemingly out of nowhere, a verbal response. Yesterday morning as I was feeding her, I looked into her eyes and said, “Linda, I love you!” With unexpected clarity, she responded, “That’s so good!” That’ll do me for several days!

One of the nurses  who has cared for Linda the last four years remarked during a recent visit, “Linda has been loved to life!”

We all have been loved to life! It is our great privilege and divine calling to love one another to life! After all we are persistently loved to life by God!

As we love the most frail and vulnerable, those with Alzheimer’s and other forms of dementia, we are fulfilling the commandment Jesus gave his disciples: “Love one another as I have loved you!”

And, we are bearing witness to the Transcendent Love in which we live and move and have our being

Gleanings from Responses to “Why I Changed My Mind about Homosexuality and the Church”

Dad headshot

 

Much to my astonishment, more than 60,000 people have read the blog entitled, “Why I Changed My Mind about Homosexuality and the Church.” (here)

The shear numbers speak volumes about the feelings associated with the topic. People want to discuss the issue in a common desire to discern a faithful way forward.

This is a teaching moment and many people are listening and eager to share. The church must be a compassionate participant in the conversation.

Another surprise: Less than 2% of the 60,000 expressed explicit disagreement with my position of full inclusion of LGBTQ people in the life and ministry of the church. That says to me that people are more open and accepting than we often assume.

With few exceptions, those disagreeing have been respectful and civil in their opposition. Less than a dozen were mean-spirited, which suggests that we can have a civil conversation while disagreeing!

The most poignant revelation in the responses is the extensive pain and deep hurt people are carrying. The stories of rejection, cruelty, ostracism, and struggle are heart-wrenching.  Some contacted me personally to share wounds they are afraid to expose publicly.

While there are those who say that the language currently in The Book of Discipline (here) is compassionate, thousands of people are hearing and experiencing rejection, hatred and exclusion.  Regrettably and sadly, the language is being used as justification for bullying, demeaning, and ostracizing God’s beloved and faithful people.

Tragically, the hurtful message is coming from the institution that exists to bear witness to God’s boundless love and radical hospitality!

I’m even more convinced that the current official language violates two of three United Methodist General Rules:  “Do no harm” and “Do all the good you can.”  Our pronouncements are inflicting terrible suffering on individuals and families; and we are denying the church of the witness and leadership of many gifted persons whom God has called into ministry.

We must get inside the pain within ourselves and those most affected by our pronouncements and policies; otherwise, we will continue to inflict wounds rather than contribute to reconciliation and healing.

An additional gleaning from the responses:  Considerable confusion exists as to the meaning of “authority of Scripture” and the role of the Bible in Christian formation and living.

I grew up in fundamentalism. Taking the Bible seriously is indelibly etched into my heart and soul. I challenge anyone who concludes that I fail to take the Bible seriously or reject its authority. It’s because I take Scripture seriously and authoritatively that I can’t take it literally.

Getting into the world and transformative authority of the Bible is arduous work, requiring that we

  • struggle with its original contexts and languages,
  • locate ourselves in the stories and let them read and transform us,
  • wrestle with its deepest questions and probing ambiguities,
  • listen attentively for God’s divine Word within the human words,
  • read each specific passage in the context of the whole narrative of God’s revelation from Creation to God’s supreme revelation in Jesus Christ,
  • strive mightily to embody and live its core message of love for God and neighbor.

It is through that struggle along with the engagement of our tradition, reason, and experience that I have come to believe that the exclusionary language in the Book of Discipline should be removed. Removing the language, in my opinion, is an act of faithfulness to Scripture.

I accept that others who take the Bible with equal seriousness differ from my perspective and conclusion. I claim no infallibility or superiority in understanding. We all read Scripture within our own personal and cultural context and experience, which limits our understanding.

Scripture, therefore,  is to be read and interpreted in community. We need one another to challenge, question, and expand our finite perceptions, but always with respect, humility, and mutual longing to be faithful disciples of Jesus Christ.

The responses to the blog post also confirm my conviction that legislation will not resolve the issues or silence the conversations.  Legislation results from a coercive exercise of political power by a small minority representation of the whole, operating within a strict time frame and emotionally charged environment.

Regrettably, open conversations are only beginning in many local congregations. From my experience, local churches are much better able to deal with the issue of human sexuality than is a legislative body.

In our local congregations,  the issues are personal, not abstractions; and with appropriate encouragement and assistance, congregations can deal with volatile issues with civility, compassion, and humility. I’ve witnessed it, as recently as last Sunday!

Many of the responses to my reflections have come from members of the LGBTQ+ community. They clearly exhibit the fruits of the Spirit–“love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control” (Galatians 5:22). The whole church needs their presence, leadership, and witness!

Finally, I have been confronted again with my own need for repentance for my blindness, silence, and complicity in the church’s discrimination against LGBTQ+ brothers and sisters. I voted for the exclusionary language in 1984 and 1988 and I have been publicly silent too long.

My prayer is that God will forgive and empower me to bring forth fruits worthy of repentance, and that the church will fully embody the reconciliation and hospitality entrusted to it by the Triune God.

 

 

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“She’s Been Loved to Life”

Clasping hands 2Linda entered Bethany, the memory care facility, in May 2015. It was a painful decision for us.  The subsequent eighteen months were the most excruciating I have experienced as she declined cognitively and physically.

By April 2016, she had lost 20 pounds and was becoming increasingly frail. After extensive medical evaluation, Linda was approved for hospice care.

She remained in Bethany for another six months. Confusion, fear, disorientation increased. She was gradually forgetting how to eat and walk. Her weight loss continued.

She was unable to perform minimal personal care, which made her ineligible for “assisted living.” She had to either be transferred to skilled nursing or taken home with full-time care.

I wanted her home! I asked the nurse practitioner for a prognosis of time remaining. Understandably, she was reluctant to project a time. But she said, “Perhaps six months to a year.”

It is now October 2018, thirty months since Linda was admitted to hospice care.  Although she can no longer walk and is confined to the bed and dependent for her personal care, she is more peaceful and less fearful.

“I would never have thought that she would still be with us!”  The nurse practitioner said with amazement during a recent visit.

As I stroked Linda’s hair and caressed her forehead, a pleasant smile and twinkle in the eyes appeared.

The usually stoic nurse said with evident emotion, “She’s been loved to life!”

Tearfully I responded. “We are determined to provide three things for her–physical and emotional safety, appropriate comfort, and the assurance that she is loved just as she is.”

“It’s obvious that she has all three. I just wish everybody could have what Linda has,” remarked the experienced and compassionate nurse.

I feel enormously blessed that Linda and I are both surrounded by love, and it is love that gives us life.

We are blessed with two daughters who love their mother with the unselfish love they received from her; and their families, including our grandchildren, share that love.

We have the help of caregivers to whom caring for Linda is a sacred vocation.

A couple from church bring a meal each Thursday, simply because they care.

A neighbor couple drop in almost every day to lend support.

I, too, wish everyone could have what we experience! Is that not what God desires for the human family–safety from unnecessary danger, comfort amid loss, and unconditional love and care?

We all need to be “loved to life!” Isn’t that why the church exists?