The Escape Artist (Number 17 in a series)

“The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.” II Peter 3:9 (KJV)

My mother has become something of an escape artist, in spite of our best efforts. She has fallen several times while trying to get out of bed during the night. My sister and I have tried any number of ways to keep her safe.

We have resorted to a baby monitor in her room so that she can call for assistance if she needs to get up during the night. We got a hospital bed with side rails to try to keep her from getting up and wandering around without someone to help her stay upright.

She evades the monitor by not saying anything as she sneaks out of the bed. She takes advantage of the foot-long gap between the end of the rail and the foot of the bed to slither, snakelike, out into the room. On occasion, she tries to slip out under the rail, resulting in being caught like a fox in a trap – unable to get out or go back into the bed.

Some mornings, I come into the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling as though she were sitting at a desk. One morning, I found her on her knees, with her shoulders wedged between the rail and the frame. And some heart-stopping mornings I find her on the floor. She has made good her escape from the bed, only to find her strength spent.

God has blessed us. Mama seems to sink to the floor, rather than fall, on most occasions. She has suffered no broken bones, only some minor abrasions and bruising. But we fear the time of a solid fall or a piece of furniture in the way. So we continue trying to protect her and she continues trying to escape.

I can’t help but be reminded of God and His love for us. We keep trying to escape His love. He keeps opening His arms to bring us back to His protection. We have His promise to keep making the offer of eternal life to us, because He is faithful and unwilling to let any of us go to eternal death.

Mama has the underlying cause of dementia to spur her attempts to “escape;” what reason can any of us use to justify trying to escape God? Yet we do, more often than we would probably admit. Each time we do what we find expedient rather than what He has told us is right, we are trying to escape.

Father, please forgive me when I fight Your will and try to do things my own way. Remind me of Your constant love and care. Help me to rest in the knowledge of Your goodness. And thank you so much for watching over Mama!

© 2009 Mary Beth Magee