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Archives for February 2020

The discipline of turning off—and tuning in

I’m not very good at turning off.

And sometimes that catches up with me.

Although I consider myself a pretty peaceful person, my mind is usually churning about one thing or another.

A client project I’m working on.

My own writing projects.

Work I need to do around the house or for my business.

Ministries I want to be part of.

Teaching I’d like to start.

People I’d like to spend more time with.

I’m making myself tired just writing all of that.

While being productive might be an admirable thing, not-being-good-at-turning-off isn’t something we should aspire to.

Instead, it can make us feel exhausted and overwhelmed, which can definitely deal a blow to that productivity we’re trying to embrace.

It can also keep us from tuning in.

From stepping away from the world to embrace introspection and more time alone with God.

Lately, I’ve been learning about allostatic load—which is basically about the cumulative stress we experience from a variety of sources throughout our lives.

As you’ve probably guessed, a high allostatic load isn’t good for us, and not-being-good-at-turning-off contributes to it.

So, along with the other disciplines I try to embrace in my life, I’m going to try to focus more on the discipline of turning off.

And then tuning in.

To try to step into a relaxing space on a more frequent and regular basis.

To use that time to focus on enjoying God’s presence and the guidance I can receive there.

If I embrace the discipline of turning off more regularly, maybe I’ll actually shut down my computer when I finally get up from my desk for the day.

Quit checking email one last time before I head to bed.

Savor the deliciousness of putzing and puttering a little more (my dad’s terms for doing little things you enjoy).

And finally give that stack of novels by my couch the attention they deserve.

The discipline of turning off is a powerful thing—which is why it’s so needed in our always-on world.

The discipline of tuning in even more so—since there God waits for us, ready and able to provide the nurturing that we need.

Within Off and In we can find the gifts of rest and renewal—so we’re more prepared to step into whatever’s next when it’s time to turn back on.

Advance Directives for Dementia vs Standard Advance Directives: What’s the difference?

Advance directives for dementia have arrived on the scene—as I highlighted in a link to a Kaiser Health News (KHN) article in the February 1st edition of my newsletter.

Dementia is a serious and growing concern in our country and around the world. According to the World Alzheimer Report 2015: The Global Impact of Dementia: An Analysis of Prevalence, Incidence, Cost, and Trends, the number of people living with dementia is forecasted to grow from 47 million in 2015 to 132 million by 2050.

Its onset and progression can be a brutal and heart-wrenching process for both the individual experiencing its effects—and the family members who love them. So, it’s not surprising that this new advance directive option has become available.

But it made me wonder: What’s the difference between traditional advance directives and an advance directive for dementia?

The role of advance directives

After all, the purpose of advance directives is to make an individual’s wishes known about what type of care they would or would not want if they were unable to speak for themselves.  

Since the cognitive impairment that’s involved with dementia often results in a person being unable to speak for themselves, I guess I assumed that I’m covered by the living will I already have in place.

But if there is a need for one specific to dementia…maybe not.

So, I did a little research.

Advance directives for dementia vs standard advance directives

In a December 2017 essay in the JAMA (Journal of the American Medical Association) Network, “Advance Directives for Dementia: Meeting a Unique Challenge,” the authors describe their perceived need for an advance directive for dementia:

“Standard advance directives are often not helpful for patients who develop dementia. Dementia is a unique disease from the standpoint of advance directives. It usually progresses slowly over many years and leaves people with a long time frame of diminishing cognitive function and loss of ability to guide their own care. Advance directives typically address scenarios such as an imminently terminal condition or a permanent coma, but they generally do not address the more common scenario of gradually progressive dementia. …

Medical decisions for patients with dementia are typically made by health proxies because patients with dementia, although it progresses slowly over many years, at some point quickly lose decision-making capacity. These proxies often experience enormous anxiety trying to guess their loved ones’ wishes. A dementia-specific health directive could lessen this burden by providing some clarity about patients’ values and goals that could then help support decision making.”

From Gaster B, Larson EB, Curtis JR. Advance Directives for Dementia: Meeting a Unique Challenge. JAMA. 2017;318(22):2175–2176. doi:10.1001/jama.2017.16473

Advance directives for dementia aren’t all the same

Having watched this painful scenario play out too many times in both my professional and personal life, my first-glance impression is that completion of an advance directive for dementia might be something I’d consider for myself.

However, as the KHN article notes, this new option is controversial, too—which means my first glance impression might not be capturing all the nuances involved.

The article refers to an advance directive for dementia created by End of Life Choices New York (EOLCNY), which allows an individual to specify their wishes regarding oral feeding by someone else if they have advanced dementia. Here’s how the site describes this:

“EOLCNY has developed the advance directive in response to growing demand for clear language to address specific needs not adequately covered by health care proxies and living wills. The directive for receiving assisted oral feedings has two options:

Option A refuses all oral assisted feedings once the patient is in an advanced stage of dementia and the ability to self-feed and make decisions has been lost.

Option B permits assisted oral feeding in advanced dementia but limits that provision to comfort-focused feeding that must be stopped when the patient becomes disinterested or unwilling to be fed.”

From https://endoflifechoicesny.org/directives/dementia-directive/

The KHN article describes why this wouldn’t work in a skilled care facility, since regulations (thankfully) require that patients be fed.

I don’t agree with the EOLCNY approach, since I can’t imagine not feeding someone just because they’re not able to cognitively manage it themselves—or putting a loved one in such a painful position of not helping me if I required assistance to eat.

However, there’s another version of a dementia advance directive, created by the lead author on the JAMA Network article, Barak Gaster, MD. Dr. Gaster refers to his version as a “Dementia Directive” and it doesn’t specifically refer to oral feedings at all.

Instead, it provides various options for three stages of dementia: mild, moderate, and severe. The options for all three stages are the same, which you can read with a free download of the form. I like this version much better, since it is more detailed and doesn’t say anything about oral feedings.

State-specific issues

Since advance directives are state-specific, another question I had was whether these new directives are legal and honored in all states. I figured that was one of the questions that would be answered on the FAQ page on Dr. Gaster’s site, and was happy to find that to be the case:

“The Dementia Directive available here is a written communication to help guide those who might need to make medical decisions on your behalf in the future. As such, it is a way to record your wishes. The guidance it provides is not legally binding. Family members and physicians will still need to address clinical situations as they arise and decide how a dementia directive like this might provide guidance in a given situation. That’s why it is important to talk to those closest to you (who might later help make decisions about your care) about your wishes, so that they understand as clearly as possible what your wishes would be.”

From https://dementia-directive.org/faqs

In this context, the Dementia Directive is described on the site as both a standalone document and as a supplement to traditional advance directive forms.

This new initiative is already gaining steam—with KHN reporting that Dr. Gaster’s version, published in 2018, has been “downloaded 130,000 times after it was mentioned in a New York Times story and continues to be retrieved about 500 times per week.”

Likely, there will be a lot more momentum on this front—especially with National Healthcare Decisions Day (NHDD) around the corner on April 16th.

Talking about end-of-life issues ahead of time is so important, and something I’m passionate about—which is also why I’ve become a Conversation Champion with The Conversation Project.

As I close, one caveat I need to add is that some of the organizations referenced here support medical aid in dying initiatives (aka physician-assisted suicide)—which is not something I support.

Additional Resources

If you want to learn more about advance directives, here are a few websites that can help you get started:

How about you?

What do you think of the new Dementia Directive? Please join the conversation by commenting below.

The information provided here is for educational purposes only. It is not intended to be used as medical, nursing, legal, financial, tax or any other type of professional advice. You should always discuss your individual needs with the appropriate expert.

Feature photo by Helloquence on Unsplash.

The Power of Merging Action, Clarity, & With

Within the past six months, I’ve been blessed to listen to two speakers who’ve had a big impact on my life and helped me find better clarity within my creative journey: Allen Arnold and Jeff Goins.

Allen is the author of The Story of With, an allegory about “A Better Way to Live, Love & Create.” I heard him speak at the American Christian Fiction Writers conference in September in San Antonio, Texas, about the importance of creating with God, instead of for God. This co-creating approach both deepens our relationship with God within the creative process and frees us to focus on creating to please our primary audience of One—instead of the ever-changing needs of the world in which we live.

Jeff is the author of several books, including The Art of Work, “A Proven Path to Discovering What You Were Meant to Do.” Dave and I heard him speak at several events in Lakeland, Florida a few weeks ago—and though there were many key takeaways, the message that impacted me most was “Clarity comes with action.”

Another guy who’s had a big impact on me for many years is Henry David Thoreau—whose encouragement to “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve always imagined.” sat on my desk at work for many years and is embossed in a magnet on our fridge. I don’t agree with Thoreau’s approach to spirituality, but I am attracted to his philosophy about living a simpler life that supports the pursuit of our dreams.

As I’ve been pondering and applying the philosophies of all three, I see such a merging of the themes of Clarity and Action and With.

What I heard from Allen at the conference (and continue to read from him on Twitter) has helped me to reduce my agenda-fueled stress regarding my writing goals and step into a more enjoyable journey of seeking to please God with my writing as I do it in partnership with Him.

In fact, this new mindset provided the self-permission I needed to leave Facebook and step into more peacefulness, instead of remaining on a platform that was no longer a fit for me just so I could fulfill the expectations of others—namely the publishing industry.

Jeff’s encouragement to gain clarity through the process of action-taking was an eye-opener for me—since I’ve been pretty goal-oriented most of my life and usually prefer a framework in which clarity precedes action. This is the seemingly “safer” path, but one that can also stall my progress if I remain trapped by the need to be sure of the destination before I begin the journey.

Thoreau’s encouragement to pursue my dreams tapped into my somewhat-rebel spirit long ago. I haven’t had difficulty defining my dreams and marching toward them—but the details regarding the most effective route for reaching them have not always been clear.

That’s why I love the thought of merging the concepts of Clarity, Action, and With.

Jeff’s encouragement to find clarity through action is similar to Thoreau’s in that we must always be moving forward if we hope to achieve our dreams. Allen’s framework of doing that with God instead of relying on our own creative agendas helps to ensure that we’re on the right path and using our gifts to please a primary audience of One.

Another thing Jeff says is that artists are always recreating themselves: “If we’re stagnating we recreate to embrace our vision in a different way.” I like that concept, too, since it allows me to redefine what I may perceive as failures as just another step in the creative journey.

I’m so grateful for the insights of leaders like these, who are willing to share their journeys to help the rest of us who continue to define our own.

Lately, the result for me has been the ability to relax into my creative process a little more. After listening to Jeff’s and Allen’s talks, I decided to let go of what I think I should be writing about and instead embark on a creative journey for clarity through action—focusing on co-creating with God as I do.

This post first appeared in the 2/15/2020 edition of The Empowered Traveler™ newsletter.

Feature photo by Andrea Leopardi on Unsplash.

How to avoid rabbit trails

God doesn’t want us to meander around aimlessly.

He doesn’t want us to race down rabbit trails with no direction.

He wants to make our paths straight.

And you know what a straight line is: the shortest distance between two points.

God wants us to be in fellowship with Him.

Then we can understand His purposes for us.

Embrace the things He wants us to focus on.

And follow the straight line He draws for our lives—so we can achieve what He has planned.

Proverbs 3:3-6 (NASB)

If you enjoy this episode, please join me in this ministry by sharing it with others, especially those who may be feeling isolated or alone. Thank you!

For closed captioning, please view this episode on the Bibles & Bathrobes YouTube channel.

Feature photo by Saad Walid on Unsplash.

A Dr. Doolittle Valentine’s Day

For Valentine’s Day this year, my honey and I are going to see the re-make of Dr. Doolittle, and I can’t wait.  

Dave and I love animals of all kinds, including our beloved Boxer, Rocky, who we enjoyed for eleven glorious years;

Dave and Rocky in the back of Dave's truck

Our wonderful rescue, Blue, who has been such a blessing to us—and such a comfort to me after my mom died;

Our wonderful dog Blue

Our pet rat, Stuart, whom Dave found in the bushes near the Pinellas Trail and for whom he built a two-level house (Yes, a rat—they’re so smart and affectionate and make wonderful pocket pets. I was dubious at first, until we took him to the vet to have him checked out, and they gushed over him);

Maggie, my mom’s rescue kitty who provided such wonderful company for Mom (I’ll add Maggie’s picture as soon as I can find one);

Sammie, the squirrel on the Pinellas Trail whom I befriended via daily cashews during my morning run;

And Gus, the chameleon who often visited with me during morning coffee on the porch (Sorry, no pic of Gus that I can find. He was little and whatever color he was leaning against.).

Dave will tell you that I talk to lizards who pause on the edge of our pool, bunnies who hop through our grass, honey bees that settle on my shoulder—and the occasional dragonfly who decides to light on my toe.

And he’s as much of a Doolittle as I—since Stuart had a new home as soon as Dave spotted him, as did the parakeet who landed on his shoulder at work and from then on only loved Dave.

And there are gopher tortoises who owe their lives to him, too—since Dave often stops along the road to aid them to the other side, and lovingly place greens at the mouths of the holes they dig in our yard.

The emphasis on Valentine’s Day is on a romantic kind of love. But the truth is there’s plenty of love to go around—with family, friends, and the wonderful pets and creatures God gives us to enjoy.

How about you? Are you a Doolittle too?

Do you have plans with someone you love on this lovable day? Human, furry, or other animal options apply. 😉

Please join the conversation by sharing in the comments below. 

How changing the language of family caregiving can benefit us all

My plunge into the language of family caregiving began when I spotted a post on Twitter recently, as I noted in my Perspectives column this week.

When caregiving expert Debra Hallisey wrote an article to express her concern about  how the “parenting our parents” reference is an all-too-common phrase, I chimed in to agree and add a cringe-worthy reference of my own: the “burden of family caregiving.”

Similar to what Debra did, I DuckDuckGo’d (my preferred method of search) “burden of family caregiving” on my phone and received first-page results of six research studies published in academic journals using this burdensome term.

While such evidence-based descriptions of the need for more support for family caregivers is a positive thing, I worry about the negative connotations used to communicate it.

This reference is also commonly used in consumer-focused outlets with a cross-section of readers—including those who may either be caregivers or someone receiving care.

Whatever the context, such dark language suggests to caregivers that the critical support they’re providing for their family members should be defined as something overly difficult to bear—and it communicates to those receiving care that they have indeed become what they always feared they would someday be: a burden.

Caregiving language matters

As I noted in my column, I’m not trying to minimize how challenging caregiving can be—because I’ve been there myself. But I think language matters and influences our perspectives more subtly than we’re aware.

In a post entitled “How Our Words Impact Others,” leadership expert Michael Hyatt agrees: “Our words carry enormous weight. More than we sometimes think. They often impact people for decades, providing either the courage to press on or one more reason to give up.”

To me, “burden” is such a negative word.

Such a woe-is-me, how-did-I-get-into-this-mess kind of sentiment.

An Eeyore expression that Winnie-the-Pooh would’ve chided his friend for.

Unfortunately, that term is all too common—perhaps because our elders are surrounded by a “me” society which frequently describes them as such.

If we give our older loved ones the message that they’re a burden or should be treated like children, we add to the pile of losses they experience as they age.

Instead, they should be honored, respected, and cherished as the family matriarchs and patriarchs we’re blessed to still have in our midst.

Family caregiving as a team

Pretty woman in purple top and her daughter smiling

My mom didn’t plan to live with us because she wanted to maintain her independence and didn’t want to be a “burden.”

I’m so grateful she was willing to reconsider after changes to her health, an invitation from my husband to live with us (she said my invitation wasn’t enough to get her to agree), and a remodel to our home so she could have her own apartment on one end.

We were blessed to be able to do all of that as a team, which allows me to look back and savor the gift of having had her with us for nearly a decade. She was quite independent for many years, but as her health declined, it was wonderful for us all to be under the same roof so she could have the help she needed—and I could worry less.

Getting to care for my mom was a blessing and privilege beyond what I can describe. The one thing I really needed to do in this life.

Was it a challenge for us both? At times, of course.  

But that’s true for most things in life filled with value and reward.

But a burden? Absolutely not.

I just can’t imagine referring to that precious season of caregiving in such a negative way—which is why I’m put off by caregiving contexts that do.

We were fortunate to be able to do things the way we did, and I don’t think we were all that unique. There are so many adult children taking wonderful care of their parents in one way or another and grateful to be able to do so.

I doubt many of them would use a language of “burden,” so I wonder how this negative sentiment got started in the first place.

Family caregiving and the circle of life

Family caregiving is a challenge for sure, but calling it a burden is something I just can’t do. Instead, I see family caregiving as part of the circle of life.

For most of us—in my case for sure—our parents went to extremes to care for us without ever referring to us as a “burden.” So why, when they need help down the road, does society propose that caring for them should be defined as a hardship that appeared out of nowhere?

Did we not think they would get older and someday need care?

Do we think we’re not getting older and will someday be in the same boat?

Now, I’m not trying to oversimplify things or suggest that every family should be able to make the shift to caring for an aging parent in their home full time, since there are so many variables that play into that scenario.

And when family caregivers have a loved one residing in a skilled care facility, the challenges are stressful in different ways—including the need to trust someone else with their loved one’s care. Many long to care for their mom or dad at home, but sometimes it’s just not possible, and that can be heartbreaking, too.

Also, I know there are families in which dynamics are much more complex than what I’m describing here, and I’m not trying to minimize or speak to that.

Instead, my point is that by using negative terms to describe a natural and predictable season of life, we do everyone a disservice—including ourselves.

When it’s our turn

Unless we die suddenly, we’ll likely need care, too, and I predict I’ll be a challenge for whoever ends up with that tall task. But it will break my heart if I overhear someone referring to me in my final season of life as a burden.

We live in dicey times where language is concerned—and the negativity in our world can influence us more than we realize. That’s one reason I recently left Facebook—and why I’m concerned about many dynamics in our society today.

I know the reality is that caregiving can be overwhelming, exhausting, and financially draining for many families—so there is a dire need for more support. Legislative and other efforts to garner it are essential.

But it’s time to stop burdening us all with such burdensome terms in reference to a natural and expected season in the circle of life—which can be a sacred and beautiful one, too.

That is, if we’ll only embrace it in more positive terms—and the grace and love we’ll someday need for ourselves.

How about you?

What are your feelings about the language of family caregiving? Please join the discussion by commenting below.

Post feature photo by Rod Long on Unsplash.

Dying Talks: What’s Your Understanding of Your Diagnosis?

The following is adapted from the transcript of the second in my series of Dying Talks ™ videos—geared toward individuals who are facing end of life.

In today’s episode of Dying Talks, we’re going to talk about your understanding of your diagnosis.

When I was working in the field in hospice and visited a newly admitted patient, one of my first questions was, “Tell me what your doctor told you.”

I did this because I wanted to make sure the patient and I were both on the same page.

Too often, I found that the information we’d received on the patient’s records was either not what the patient was told, or it wasn’t what the patient heard.

The latter is common because there’s so much stress involved when someone is sitting in the doctor’s office and receives such difficult news.

Bad news is hard to hear.

Many times, after bad news is received, a person’s hearing turns off somewhat.

As a result, it’s not unusual for an individual who is starting the end-of-life journey, or who has been admitted to a hospice program, to be confused about exactly what’s going on.

So, I want to start with that.

If you have any questions about why you’ve been referred to a hospice or palliative care program—of if you just have questions that came up after you left the doctor’s office, then be sure to ask.

Because this season of your life is not the time to lack clarity.

You should have all the answers you need, and I encourage you to contact your provider and ask questions if you or your loved ones need something explained further.  

Own your power.

Many people are too intimidated by the healthcare system to find the answers they need.

Please don’t be.

Your provider cares about you, but may not realize that you don’t understand all the information you’ve been given.

This is your journey.

So I encourage you to own your power within this season to clarify things if there’s something you don’t understand.

Clarify the plan.

Ask what the plan is going to be if you’ve been referred to a hospice or palliative care program.

Perhaps you haven’t had the chance to ask your provider about your prognosis or life expectancy.

A simple question to ask in that context is “What do you think my life is going to look like in the next six months or so?”

Don’t be afraid to ask hard questions.

Of course, the answers may be difficult, so be sure to have the support you need when you do.

Plan ahead.

Write down your questions before you go to your visit, and try to take someone with you who can take notes and be a second pair of ears.

Don’t let anybody rush you.

Make sure when you leave the office that your questions have been answered to your satisfaction.

This is a sacred season for you.

And it’s a difficult one.

That’s why you need all the support and clarity you can get.

Please make sure you ask for it.

This is general information for educational purposes and should not be considered medical advice. You should always talk to your own healthcare provider about your individual needs.

Traveling with a disability? You might need to honk your horn.

Traveling with a disability can create many challenges, both when the disability is visible—and when it’s not.

In my Empowered Traveler™ newsletter this week, I linked to an article by Julia Buckley in which she describes the challenges of traveling with invisible disabilities, and the lack of support individuals often experience.

Reading the article reminded me of the last trip I took on a plane, when I stood in the security line behind a young woman and her little dog.

When I asked about her pup, she said he was her emotional support dog.

Honestly, my initial reaction was surprise that a person as-healthy-as-she-appeared needed special support.

Which is exactly the kind of barrier Buckley describes in the article.

That one of the major challenges faced by those with invisible disabilities is the assumption that such a “healthy-looking” person shouldn’t need or ask for extra help.

The assumptions and judgments of others are the types of things that can make it difficult for someone to speak up and ask for what they need when traveling or in everyday life.

That’s a huge deal in all kinds of ways—and might make a person decide to stay home instead of venturing out.

We never know what another person is going through in the present or has survived in the past.

Or how they may be exactly the blessing we needed and didn’t even know it.

Like my young acquaintance and her sweet dog—who provided pet therapy for everyone in that tense security line, since he was happy to roll onto his back and expose his belly to anyone willing to bend down and give it a good rub.

In addition to the excellent points Buckley makes about how invisible disabilities can make travel more difficult, she underscores a critical overall theme: don’t be shy about advocating for yourself.

Which brings me to the topic of honking your horn.

My mom struggled with the debilitating effects of osteoarthritis, which meant she relied on a walker and then wheelchair for a number of years.

When she was still driving, she often went out on her own, enjoying the autonomy and independence of being able to do so.

But if someone wasn’t with her, she sometimes ended up in a pickle she didn’t quite expect.

Like the day she was sitting in the parking lot of CVS, needing to take her medicine, but unable to open a new bottle of water.

True to her tenacious form, instead of sitting there in a puddle of frustration about what she couldn’t do—Mom did something many of us struggle with: she asked for help.

Yep, my sweet little mom saw a stranger walking across the lot and gave a honk of her horn to get his attention.

As Mom repeatedly found when she was out on her own, he was more than happy to lend a hand.

It’s that type of kindness we need more of in this world, and there’s plenty of it to go around—as is evidenced by The Kindness Diaries, a series Dave and I just discovered.

We love how it portrays the hidden kindnesses that are ready to be revealed—if we’ll only ask.

Post feature photo by Jan Kaluza on Unsplash.

Burdens vs Blessings

On Twitter recently, I saw a post regarding an article by caregiving expert Debra Hallisey in which she described a phrase in the context of family caregiving that makes her cringe: “Parenting Your Parents.”

Ugh. That one’s like fingernails on a chalkboard for me, too.

Over the years of my clinical career, I’ve watched way too many adult children mow over the autonomy and opinions of the elders they’re supposed to honor and respect.

This dynamic both frustrated and saddened me, as I wondered if these adult children would want to be treated in the same way if—and when—they ended up in the same shoes.

When I was Mom’s caregiver, she was in charge, and I was her helper.

Neither of us would’ve had it any other way and we loved being a team to make sure that was the case.

That’s why I had to jump into that Twitter conversation to agree with Debra’s concern—and add another cringe-worthy reference that makes me shake my head: the “burden” of family caregiving.

Seriously, a burden?

A challenge, yes.

Overwhelming at times, yes.

But so are many things in life that are filled with value and beauty.

Getting to be Mom’s caregiver was one of the greatest blessings I ever experienced.

A privilege that’s difficult to put into words.

Of course it was hard at times.

Of course I got tired.

And she certainly did, too.

But there wasn’t a single thing I did to take care of my precious mom that she wouldn’t have done for me a thousand times over if I was the one in need.

Plus, as a parent—she already did!

All the times throughout my life, when I was sick or hurt or afraid or confused or just messing things up, she and my dad went to extremes to make sure I had what I needed—and most importantly, they made sure I knew how much I was loved.

I’ve tried to participate in a few family caregiving forums, but have been put off by the climate of negativity I sometimes find there.

What some see as a burden was such a blessing in my world.

Those years with Mom are a perpetual gift—both during the time we had to enjoy them, and in the years since she’s been gone.

I know everyone’s situation is different, and I’m not trying to minimize how hard caregiving can be.

Plus, I know I’m not in the midst of the daily effort at this point in my life, which gives me a different perspective than someone who’s still trying to juggle the multiple needs and challenges involved.

But I think it’s easy to forget in the midst of such dynamics that unless we die suddenly, we’ll likely need care too—which is a good reason to embrace the tenants of the Golden Rule.

As with most things in life, if we allow the negativity around us to seep into our pores, we’re more likely to miss the beautiful things that are happening before our very eyes.

This post original appeared in the 2/8/2020 edition of The Empowered Traveler™ newsletter. Please subscribe below.

Feature photo by Erik Witsoe on Unsplash.

Blank-check forgiveness

Forgiveness is a big deal to God.

After all, his willingness to forgive us makes it possible for us to have a relationship with him.

In that context, I’m so grateful he doesn’t keep score.

That he doesn’t have a quota for our “forgivable” sins.

Instead, he shows us blank-check forgiveness.

A willingness to perpetually extend his hand of grace, mercy, and love.

The rub is, he wants us to show the same kind of forgiveness to others.

To put away our scorecards and show similar grace.

That kind of forgiveness might sound like a tall task.

Especially if someone has repeatedly hurt you or let you down.

In that context, I think forgiveness vs trust are sometimes two different animals.

Because God doesn’t want us to continue to expose ourselves to people who aren’t good for us.

But, he does want us to forgive them—and he’ll help us if we ask.

Because he knows that doing so is good for us—since resentment is a poison.

And it’s good for our relationship with him—since it reminds us that we don’t deserve the forgiveness we’ve been given.

Matthew 6:9-14 (NIV)
Matthew 18:21-22 (NIV)

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Feature photo by Michal Janek.