Spend time in the hallway where nothing happens:
calming, preparing, growing, anticipating, repenting.
Taking care of my mom in her last days of lung cancer was difficult to the extreme,” Vicki said. “She was not kind to me or my sisters while we were growing up. She did not have the ability to show love for us. Near the end of her life, she didn’t ask much from us, either. But one evening she called us into the room and asked, ‘Can you lie here with me?’ My younger sister just could not do it and left the room.
“Somehow God gave me the grace to lie in the bed beside my mom,” Vicki said, tears edging her voice. “Mom started stroking my hair. She told me how much she loved me. I lay beside her until she fell asleep. I crept out of the room and sobbed in the hallway for the precious gift God had just given me. My mom died a week later, and I knew she loved me. I might have missed it if I had let the painful memories dictate my behavior. Grace wins every time.”
Around the world are adult children caring for aging parents they love. Or despise. Or fear. Or barely tolerate. Or adore and can’t imagine living without. Some are caring for parents who harmed them physically, psychologically, emotionally, or sexually. The pain that riddles their caregiving tasks must seem unbearable.
A friend of mine is the primary caregiver for her elderly stepfather, a man who took advantage of her in her childhood. She takes him to his doctor appointments, cleans the wounds on his feet, cooks for him, cleans for him, and genuinely loves this man who repented years ago—not with words, but with his life. How is that possible?
My friend serves him with tears in her eyes over the way God has redeemed their relationship and erased the pain of the past. It isn’t possible in all situations like theirs. But the work God did in forgiving him and healing her is unmistakable.
Darin’s distance from his father was precipitated by a dramatic, memorable scene over Darin’s choice of a life mate. They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other for years when Darin received a call that would change everything. His father was no longer able to live on his own. Darin’s aunt asked whether Darin and his wife would take him in. The natural response would have been to refuse. His father hadn’t been there when Darin needed his support. He’d been hostile, angry, and unchanging in his vile attitude toward Darin’s wife. Why should he—?
But Darin had learned firsthand how much damage angry, hurtful words could cause. He set aside his resentment and chose to serve his father with a generosity he wished he had received. Despite the time lost, their relationship was restored over the course of his father’s decline because of Darin’s humility and overt displays of selflessness. When his father died, both men were at peace.
“Will you love your father for My sake?” God seemed to ask Darin. “Don’t wait for him to deserve it or to apologize for how he treated you. Love him now. For Me.”
“If possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone,” God said through the apostle Paul in Romans 12:18 (AMP). Reconciliation is high on His list of priorities.
We grow up with a mental picture of what love looks like—a picture influenced by nature, nurture, culture, and love fads (is love free or costly?). Our image of love is skewed by disappointment and twisted by heartbreak. It is warped by pop songs, Super Bowl commercials, and poorly written novels.
God says that love overlooks wrongs. Love forgives the petty—He wouldn’t let me extend my curfew on prom night—and the huge—She refused to come to my wedding.
In 1 Corinthians 12, the apostle Paul ends the chapter by proposing that in our temporary, planned-obsolescent, listing, limping world, love is the preferred spiritual gift—freely available and universally applicable. Love rules the day, no matter what day it is. No matter what the challenge. No matter how deep the wounds.
A few verses later, he describes what godly love is like. We’ve heard those verses from 1 Corinthians 13 applied in sermons and wedding ceremonies. How would those familiar words read if applied to our relationships with aging parents?
Love for my aging parents is patient.
And, God, You know I need patience.
Love for my aging parents is kind.
I have to admit, Lord, that kindness is not always my default option.
Love for my aging parents isn’t jealous.
Jealous? Not one of my issues. Or is it? Do I resent the attention they require? Where’s the ME time?
It doesn’t brag.
Stop my mouth, God, when pride gets in the way or makes me condescending.
It isn’t arrogant.
Keep me, Lord, from acting as if their intelligence left just because their bodies are aging.
It isn’t rude.
Lord, may it never be said of me that I disparaged my parents in public or otherwise.
It doesn’t seek its own advantage.
Keep my motives pure, God.
Love for my aging parents isn’t irritable.
It isn’t? It shouldn’t be. God, I need Your help with this one, too.
It doesn’t keep a record of complaints.
My parents’ nor my own. No record. New, blank slate every day.
It isn’t happy about injustice, but it is happy with the truth.
I’d rather my parents maintain dignity than be proven wrong and me right.
Love for my aging parents puts up with all things . . .
All things.
Trusts in all things . . .
By Your Spirit, help me trust You to watch over my parents when I can’t. And even when I can.
Hopes for all things . . .
Stir within me a hopeful attitude when I tiptoe too close to hopelessness as I watch them age.
Endures all things.
This temporary hardship, these few years of selflessness, Lord, I surrender to You.
Love for my aging parents never fails.
(Adapted from 1 Corinthians 13:3–8.)
The thirteenth chapter ends with the reminder that in life, three things remain: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these, the most powerful, the most highly desired, the most influential, God says, is love.
Is your story one that serves as a testimonial to the power of love to overcome what once seemed unforgivable?
If I had the choice, Lord,
I’d hold on to
My well-deserved resentments
Until my dying day.
But the beauty of Your love
For me
Leaves me no
Viable
Option
Other than
Loving and forgiving.
Peace
Is too compelling
A prize.