If we didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt so much.
If we didn’t care, how shallow life would be.
Is Christina’s story yours? She said, “The hardest part of my father’s aging is putting aside my deep ache from his choices over the last few years. After my stepmother died, he met a woman, walked away from me and my family, and acted as if we’d never mattered. Now he has Parkinson’s disease, and each time I see him, I have to fight to let the hurt go and just love him where he is.”
“My father,” another friend said, “married weeks after Mom died. We understood his loneliness, but how could that not seem disrespectful to Mom’s memory? The new woman freely admitted she didn’t love Dad. She wanted his money. Which she took. Dad was so desperate for companionship, he didn’t care.”
How aging parents invest their money, their time, and their affections matter to us because we care about their future—however long or short—and their health and happiness. If we didn’t care, it wouldn’t hurt when the decisions they make seem unwise or downright foolish.
Seemingly obvious scams may not be as obvious to a generation that assumed people were, for the most part, trustworthy and that their investments were safe, their information private, their personal details nobody else’s business.
Christina’s father fell for a relationship trap—one that convinced him that leaving his family was a fair exchange for companionship with a woman.
Others fall for a looks-so-good-on-the-surface financial scheme or succumb to the fear of reporting abuses and neglect. They avoid “bothering” their doctors or withhold information from their caregiver children because they “don’t want to worry them.”
We can inform our aging parents. We can advocate for them, defend them, represent them. We can intervene when necessary. We can assume responsibility with power of attorney or financial power of attorney status to keep our parents from potentially devastating decisions.
A healthy parent-child relationship establishes a level of trust that comes into play when our parents’ decision-making abilities falter. And a foundation of love well demonstrated in the past may ease tensions when the present is threatened by unwise decisions. “Dad, I can’t let you do that.” “Mom, I know you don’t see the harm in stopping that medicine without consulting your doctor. So I’m asking you to talk to him about it for my peace of mind. And if you don’t call him, because I love you, I will.”
No human is equipped or able to protect another human flawlessly, however. We can’t be ever-present or all-knowing, always understanding what’s happening inside our parents’ minds and hearts. Neither can we always be aware of others’ motives.
Omniscient. Omnipresent. Omnipotent.
God.
We entrust our parents into God’s care as we do our children when we leave them in the church nursery, send them off to kindergarten, let them stay overnight with a friend, leave them at the college dorm, or give our blessing to their marriage. We can’t be with them all the time or observe every threat against them.
But God can. He sees what we can’t, and as Psalm 91:4 says, He shelters those who trust Him in the shadow of His wings. His promises are many.
“The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good” (Proverbs 15:3 ESV).
“Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure” (Psalm 147:5 ESV).
He declares “the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,’” (Isaiah 46:10 ESV).
Consider Psalm 139:1–4 (ESV) with your parents’ names inserted for the word me:
O LORD, you have searched [my parents] and known [them]! You know when [they] sit down and when [they] rise up; you discern [their] thoughts from afar. You searched out [their] path and [their] lying down and are acquainted with all [their] ways. Even before a word is on [their] tongue, O LORD, you know it altogether.
When collecting my thoughts—and His—regarding the book in your hands, I wondered at first how many verses in the Bible applied directly to the topic of aging parents. I could count on one hand the passages that seemed like givens:
“Honor your father and mother” (Exodus 20:12; Ephesians 6:2).
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world” (James 1:27 NIV).
“Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come” (Psalm 71:18 NIV).
“[Growing in grace] they will still thrive and bear fruit and prosper in old age; they will flourish and be vital and fresh [rich in trust and love and contentment]” (Psalm 92:14 AMP).
“If anyone fails to provide for his own, and especially for those of his own family, he has denied the faith [by disregarding its precepts] and is worse than an unbeliever [who fulfills his obligation in these matters]” (1 Timothy 5:8 AMP).
But as I turned the revered pages of my Bible, I discovered that—as with any subject of concern to humanity—it all held practical application and encouragement. The words are infused with the Spirit of the Living God, the Omniscient One, the One who not only cares but equips us to care well, the One who simultaneously holds those we love and us.
This Book—God’s Word—is the caregiver’s primary survival resource. If opening up the pages does nothing more than mentally and spiritually reconnect us to our source of help, then it has served a holy purpose in that moment. But His Word does so much more.
It answers the questions that nag even the faith-filled as our parents age:
•Who will watch over my parents when I can’t be there?
•Who can comfort his/her anxiety when nothing seems to work?
•Who can bring peace into this situation?
•Who can redeem this crisis we’re in?
•Who can calm, heal, and deliver?
•Where will my parents and I find hope in this tender but trying season?
In some families, the word impossible laces many conversations. “Dad is being impossible!” “Finding a safe place for Mom to live right now is impossible.” “Dealing with the insurance company/medical team/rest of the family is impossible.” “It’s impossible to get the answers we need regarding my parent’s condition.” “The choices Dad and Mom are making frighten me, but they won’t listen. What am I going to do? I don’t want to see them hurt or taken advantage of. It’s impossible.”
The pages of our Bibles rustle as we turn them, searching for hope. We find it in Matthew 19:26 (NLT) where we read, “Jesus looked at them intently and said, ‘Humanly speaking, it is impossible. But with God everything is possible.’”
Jesus, turn Your gaze to me
Look at me intently
And speak Your words of comfort
Over me
And my aging parents.
Jesus, turn Your gaze to me
Look at me intently
And calm my troubled heart
That cares as it should
But carries what You volunteered to bear.
Jesus, turn Your gaze to me
Look at me intently
And I in turn
Will look to You
In this season
And always.
Rock of Aging, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.