“But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee.” Luke 10: 33-35 (KJV)
When I arrived in California to help care for my mother, I envisioned hours spent in writing as I sat near her, ready to meet any need she may have. My sister had reported that Mama did little more than sleep between her feedings (through a percutaneous endoscopic gastrostomy - or PEG - tube).
Reality is somewhat different than my imaginings. Mama only sleeps intermittently (even at night!). She talks in her sleep, often crying out as though in distress or pain. She requires help ambulating to and from her bedside commode chair. Sometimes we can convince her to walk a little more, into the living room or perhaps into her bathroom for a quick “spit bath” in the sink.
Occasionally, Mama develops pain in her legs or feet. We use lavender oil or a chamomile based cream to massage the ailing part. Sometimes she just craves the human touch of someone holding her hand.
She imagines strange people in the room, requiring me to order them out or check on what they are doing. There are “accidents” requiring her bed to be changed, sometimes numerous times a day. The resultant loads of laundry must be washed, dried, folded and put away.
Another problem is the blockage in her esophagus, the reason the PEG tube was installed. The tube takes care of getting her nutrition, but it cannot help her feeling of needing to burp. So we have any number of antics to try to dislodge reluctant air bubbles. We try walking, getting up and down, patting her on the back and anything else we can think of to try to clear the bubble.
These interruptions can come at any moment. My concentration gets broken; whatever I’m working on gets set aside. Most of the writing I planned to get done is still waiting for me.
I wonder if the Samaritan had plans that day, on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho? Whatever they were, he put them aside to care for the man who had fallen among thieves. In putting his own plans on hold, he kept the appointment God had for him. The compassion he demonstrated has come to mean someone who cares above and beyond expectations – the Good Samaritan. Each time my plans get rearranged, I try to remember the Good Samaritan and open my heart to God’s plans.
Father, thank you for having the Master Plan. Please forgive me those times when I consider my own plans to be the most important things in the world. Help me to look to You for the right “next step” and not my own thoughts.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Showing posts with label night. Show all posts
Showing posts with label night. Show all posts
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Sunday, December 21, 2008
He Knows My Name (Number 15 in a series)
“…the sheep hear his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice.” John 10: 3b-4 (KJV)
Awake or asleep, Mama calls. If I’m not in the room with her, I hear her on the monitor calling out. Not my name, always. Right now she thinks I’m my late Aunt Louise.
Other times, she calls me Dolores, Katie or Lena, Mutzie or Carrie (other aunts). Occasionally she calls me “Mama.” Sometimes, it’s a name I don’t recognize as family, such as Erma. And sometimes, she calls me by my own name and is quite proud of remembering who I am.
Whatever name she uses, I respond. Occasionally I will tease her with “Louise isn’t here. Will I do?” The main thing is her voice is calling out. My mother. I recognize her voice and that’s what gets me moving toward her in response
When I reread Jesus’ parable of the sheep, I understood afresh the importance of recognizing the voice doing the calling. I wouldn’t respond so quickly to just any voice in the night. And I am so grateful to know that even though Mama doesn’t always call me by the right name, He always knows who I am. I am His and He will lead me through whatever is to come.
Do you know the Good Shepherd? He knows you, and would love to count you in His flock. Call on the name of Jesus – He already knows your name!
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to know my name and call me your own. Please give me wisdom to always recognize your voice.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Awake or asleep, Mama calls. If I’m not in the room with her, I hear her on the monitor calling out. Not my name, always. Right now she thinks I’m my late Aunt Louise.
Other times, she calls me Dolores, Katie or Lena, Mutzie or Carrie (other aunts). Occasionally she calls me “Mama.” Sometimes, it’s a name I don’t recognize as family, such as Erma. And sometimes, she calls me by my own name and is quite proud of remembering who I am.
Whatever name she uses, I respond. Occasionally I will tease her with “Louise isn’t here. Will I do?” The main thing is her voice is calling out. My mother. I recognize her voice and that’s what gets me moving toward her in response
When I reread Jesus’ parable of the sheep, I understood afresh the importance of recognizing the voice doing the calling. I wouldn’t respond so quickly to just any voice in the night. And I am so grateful to know that even though Mama doesn’t always call me by the right name, He always knows who I am. I am His and He will lead me through whatever is to come.
Do you know the Good Shepherd? He knows you, and would love to count you in His flock. Call on the name of Jesus – He already knows your name!
Thank you, Lord, for loving me enough to know my name and call me your own. Please give me wisdom to always recognize your voice.
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Morning is Coming (Number 14 in a series)
“And the LORD smelled a sweet savour; and the LORD said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground any more for man's sake; for the imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth; neither will I again smite any more every thing living, as I have done. While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.” Genesis 8: 21-22 (KJV)
2:45 a.m. – My mother is calling again. As I stumble from my bed in the adjoining room, I can look out across the shadowed valley through the uncurtained window. How very dark it is without the street lights of suburbia! I can see stars gleaming in the velvet sky and occasionally, the lights of a plane approaching distant Sacramento Airport.
But I can’t stop to look for long – Mama needs help. I put aside my sleepiness and shuffle into her room.
When I’m helping her ambulate to her bedside commode chair (or changing her linens because I didn’t get there in time), it’s easy to give in to exhaustion or frustration. Some of the times, I get there and she doesn’t know what she wants. There are moments it seems the night will never end and I will be responding to her calls forever.
It’s at these times I cling to the promise God gave to Noah. Once the ark landed and was unloaded, Noah made a sacrifice of gratitude for God’s care and protection. God blessed the sacrifice and made promises as to the future of the earth. One of those promises was “day and night shall not cease.”
I know the morning will come, no matter how endless the night seems in the wee hours, no matter how tired I am. My prayer is that God will accept my service to my mother as a sacrifice of love to Him and He will find them pleasing.
When the situation seems darkest, remember “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30: 5b) And morning will come!
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
2:45 a.m. – My mother is calling again. As I stumble from my bed in the adjoining room, I can look out across the shadowed valley through the uncurtained window. How very dark it is without the street lights of suburbia! I can see stars gleaming in the velvet sky and occasionally, the lights of a plane approaching distant Sacramento Airport.
But I can’t stop to look for long – Mama needs help. I put aside my sleepiness and shuffle into her room.
When I’m helping her ambulate to her bedside commode chair (or changing her linens because I didn’t get there in time), it’s easy to give in to exhaustion or frustration. Some of the times, I get there and she doesn’t know what she wants. There are moments it seems the night will never end and I will be responding to her calls forever.
It’s at these times I cling to the promise God gave to Noah. Once the ark landed and was unloaded, Noah made a sacrifice of gratitude for God’s care and protection. God blessed the sacrifice and made promises as to the future of the earth. One of those promises was “day and night shall not cease.”
I know the morning will come, no matter how endless the night seems in the wee hours, no matter how tired I am. My prayer is that God will accept my service to my mother as a sacrifice of love to Him and He will find them pleasing.
When the situation seems darkest, remember “weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Psalm 30: 5b) And morning will come!
© 2008 Mary Beth Magee
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