“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him.”1
My wife’s devastating diagnosis burst in on both of us like an unwelcome intruder. “Parkinson’s Plus” they call it — as if Parkinson’s disease, a gradually debilitating movement disorder, wasn’t enough, my wife also had Lewy body dementia, an acute cognitive malady. This is the same bundle of dysfunctions that afflicted comedian Robin Williams in his later years.
We had known something was going wrong a decade before, but it crept up on us gradually, so denial worked for a while. Now it was official and in that moment our lives turned upside down.
As an engineer/businessman, I derived a lot of meaning from my entrepreneurial career, so I would only seldom allow myself to think about “retirement.” When I did, it included vague notions about leisurely strolls on the beach, dinner dates, visits with grandkids, travel to favorite exotic haunts, perhaps occasional European river cruises.
And, of course, this assumed financial security and good health would accompany us every step on the flower-strewn path of our “Golden Years.”
As committed Christians, Ann and I have always sought out God’s will for our lives, but had no idea what that might mean. Never could we have imagined that “His will” would include converting me into a bumbling caregiver and my wife into a completely dependent patient.
She had been an ambitious, athletic, accomplished professional occupational therapist, and I was a perfectionistic techno-nerd with the people skills of a chainsaw. How was this all going to work? What was God trying to accomplish here?
Boy, were we in for a surprise!
Forging ‘Iron Saints’
The Epistle of James, quoted above, counter-intuitively links trials and testing with joy. Somehow, God shapes His saints through fire, something like a metal craftsman forms a sculpture through an expertly applied combination of heat, intense pressure and hammer blows.
If the metal could speak, it would hardly describe the experience as pleasant. But only the sculptor knows what he’s trying to produce — he, and only he, has the plan.
Only God knows what is necessary to produce heavenly character in sinful men. The process can be downright ugly.
A recent article announcing the death of Aretha Franklin quoted Bonnie Raitt, who told Rolling Stone magazine in 2003, “In her voice, you can hear the redemption and the pain, the yearning and the surrender, all at the same time.”
True redemption is costly and painful — just look at Jesus and the terrible price He paid for us. But it’s more than worth it.
When I started out in my fledgling caregiving “career,” I approached it just like any other challenging project. After all, I’m an engineer, a problem-solver — let’s just do it.
Trouble is, I was turning my precious wife into a project, a problem to be solved, a challenge to overcome. That necessarily required an arms-length, dispassionate approach to go through “the steps” and work “according to plan.”
In this early phase, I could have just as easily been replaced by a robot. Worst of all, when anything or anyone — like my wife — got in the way of “doing my job,” anger, impatience and outrage often followed. After all, I’m the one “on duty” here, I thought. Sad.
A Funny Thing Happened On My Way to Another Outburst
One particularly difficult day, my wife made one-too-many demands on me, and I marched into the bedroom in one of my usual self-pitying huffs, and then, a funny thing happened. God reached down through my heavy-handed control trip and opened my heart where only my head had formerly been engaged.
I’m not talking about hearing an audible voice, more like a strong impression. Let me paraphrase:
“Hey Don. God here.”
“That girl lying helplessly on the bed is one of my very favorite daughters.”
“She can’t help what is happening to her.”
“I entrusted her to you, beginning 30 years ago in marriage, and now in her illness.”
“You have much growing to do through this. It’s your turn in the fire.”
“Annie is not a project or a problem. She’s a privilege. A sacred trust.”
“While you’ve been racing off to your next ‘ministry activity’ at the Rescue Mission, she’s been crying out for you. But all you’ve seen is someone in the way, preventing you from doing My supposed will.”
“But your wife is My will for you. I can make the stones write articles and minister to addicts. But only you can be my arms to hold her, my voice to comfort her, my heart to love her.”
“Now go. Do well, my son.”
God’s exclusive brand of wisdom, forged from a unique alloy of agony and ecstasy, was beginning to dawn. And yes, joy followed. King David once said, “Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.” I can identify.
I’m Catching On
In a single stroke, God fulfilled an ancient prophecy in me: “I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”2
He had entrusted a priceless Stradivarius to this gorilla and tamed the beast just in time. Genius!
— D.C. Collier is a Bible teacher, discipleship mentor and writer focused on Christian apologetics. A mechanical engineer and Internet entrepreneur, he is the author of My Origin, My Destiny, a book focused on Christianity’s basic “value proposition.” Click here for more information. Click here for previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
1. James 1:2-5 New American Standard Bible (NASB)
2. Ezekiel 36:26 (NASB)