Feb 29 2020 Philippians 4:10-20

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. In any case, it was kind of you to share my distress.

Perfect words for this morning. Another whirlwind few days. Tuesday afternoon, we picked up our loved one from the hospital, where they’d been since January 1. We got home and it was nearly dark, but light enough to see a little of the surroundings. They seemed pleased with the new house, and their new accommodations. To celebrate, we ordered Dominos, their food of choice.

The next day, I didn’t see them at all, returning after they’d retired to their bedroom. My husband reports that they had a great conversation with a lot of insight about their illness, symptoms and their plans to move forward. There was plenty of delusional thinking, so ‘cured’ isn’t the right word. But I think there definitely was some healing that occurred.

Day three home, they remained in their bedroom the entire time, and we didn’t see them. Day four, trouble started.

In the morning, they were awake at our normal 5:00 time, but not theirs. They came out and talked with us, but was reverting back to angry, disorganized speech. I took them out for a 20 minute walk before heading to work. They were agitated. Upon returning, there was another disorganized soliloquy aimed at my husband and me. Then I headed to work. I left early, to join my husband as we arranged to get a new ID for them, and a cell phone, both of which were thrown away or lost during the last crisis.

In the evening, there was an increasing amount of muttering and scowling as we passed each other. Eventually my husband and I retired to our upstairs suite, and were watching a little TV. Meanwhile, they were downstairs, periodically yelling. I went down to see what was happening, and they were sitting on the bed, yelling ‘RAPE’ very loudly, with their windows open. I closed the window, encouraged them to stop yelling, and went back upstairs. The door bell rang, and they went out to meet the pizza guy for more Dominos.

We went to sleep, and this morning awoke to numerous voice mail and calls from a local ER. Apparently, our loved one told the pizza guy she was being raped, and he reported it to 911. Details remain sketchy at this point, but she was transported to the ER, where they continued their story for several hours, until recanting. After breakfast, my husband will pick them up.

This will happen again. And again. Seven times seventy times.

And again, and again, we’ll do our best to parent and love. Not because we are exceptional. But because I genuinely believe I can do all things through him who strengthens me. It’s not fun, or easy. But with a deep breath, a good night’s sleep, and Him, I will love and parent. Not without errors, or anger, or tears. But I will do it. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

And, as Paul says, there’s something beautiful about sharing the distress. The plan was originally that yesterday afternoon, my husband would take them out for their errands. But given the tumultuous morning, I joined, just to share in the distress – to hopefully lessen the load for him, so we could share in the distress.

This is some of the same dynamic when I write. I greatly appreciate that I am able to share my distress, and you are willing to read, like, share, comment. In a new era, it’s a way you are blessing me, by sharing in my distress.

This morning, I’m thinking about the honor it is to share in someone else’s distress. I was grateful to be able to spend time with my husband yesterday afternoon, running errands for an increasingly more symptomatic loved one. To share in that hard time was good for me, and good for him. Sitting with someone in distress is hard because there’s often nothing we can do. But that thinking is wrong-headed. Just sitting with someone, sharing in their distress is a gift. Today, I want to remember that. I have plenty of people in my house in distress. I want to be present.