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My son gets married this month. Our first child to do so. Today I got the link for their engagement pictures. Lovesick, sappy, but so darn cute I can’t stop looking at them. While in California this weekend, I watched my future daughter-in-law navigate the to-dos of the wedding list. We’re engaged too, you know.…

“I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a…

Physical Therapy. Pain with a purpose. I’m Granny’s chauffeur to PT each week. She goes in happy. She comes out nearly cussing and swearing she’ll never go back. Enter dementia’s silver lining because Granny will forget it all before her next appointment. Bottom line? She’s tired, sore, and sick of the process. Darn it if…

Believing God. Do you? Really? I don’t mean a head nod of “Yeah, I believe in God. He’s real and His Word is true. Yada, yada.” I mean, “Yes, when God says _______ in His Word, He means it and I should get on board. Today. Let’s look at an Old Testament king who took…

As part of coursework for my masters degree, I had to memorize Romans 6:1-14. To determine my grade, I had to write out all fourteen verses and deduct points for mistakes. I thought that since I would have to write it out for a grade, I would learn it by writing it out. Here’s the…

Weeds. I hate them. And in one particular patch, they’re everywhere. Disrespect. Self-centeredness. Laziness. While I occasionally glimpse kindness, selflessness, and maturity, the few healthy plants in the plot are fighting for their lives. What to do? Those who raised me attacked my weeds with large doses of correction. An ugly weed poked its head…

What day is it? Ask Granny, and she won’t have a clue thanks to her dementia. Ask her about the past, however, and she recalls things with great clarity. I want to do the same. Remember the past, specifically, my past with God. I won’t let spiritual dementia rob my memory. I want to remember.…

Ice cream. Mary, my mother-in-law, loves it. She would eat it all day, every day with a few Oreos thrown in for good measure. One thing we’ve learned with her dementia is she’s not aware of basic needs: hunger, thirst, even pain. She gets grumpy or frustrated, but can’t hone in on what’s bugging her.…

“Who are you?” My mother-in-law looked at me intently. “You go with Russell, right?” Right. The same thing happened with the kids. Following surgery, meds aggravated my mother-in-law’s dementia. She couldn’t stay by herself, so we took shifts. My daughter came to Granny’s apartment for her turn. All was fine when I left. Two hours…

Her knee hurt, and as she sat in the hospital bed, my mother-in-law didn’t know why. It could have been the surgery she had put off, but had finally had that morning, but she didn’t remember. She just knew her knee hurt. The following dialogue was on repeat until the anesthesia finally ended its dance…