Life as a writer can be viewed as curious by many. Lost in fictional characters, deep thinking and quiet days, makes us, to the casual observer, melancholy and isolated. Most of my family and friends are out there in the real world, on the outside; lives of details and noise.
My husband says, "You think too much." It's true. My eccentric ways can be annoying. In the middle of a conversation a stray thought takes flight, traveling an unexplored path to a destination unknown. I blurt out a nonsensical remark.
"Where are you? Weren't we just talking about Lauren's band recital?" my husband asks.
How do I explain? This chaotic mind is derailed at the slightest nudge. Forgotten missions left behind include open cupboard doors, light switches left in the "on" position, delayed meals, and on and on.
Today, this rambling mind is going out. My mother-in-law is in last stages of real alzheimers, not the type my family accuses me of having.
My brother is in the last stages of a neurological disease that began in his toes and has continued in upward motion until it now affects his speech and swallowing.
I imagine the two of them joined, mind and body, to make one whole human being.
So today is a day for the real world. Today is my day for the nursing homes.
My body is restless, another consequence of the writer's life. I go for a long walk and think about the day. As I return home, I drop to my knees in helplessness and hopelessness, wondering what to say to them. How can I help? How can we cope?
There are no answers and so I leave the questions with the One of my heart, Jesus. As I repeat His name over and over in praise, He answers my hopelessness with a resurrected heart. Body, mind and spirit are rejuvenated. I move out into the world.
I read Scripture verses to my mother-in-law and suddenly she says, "You are so beautiful." It brings tears to my eyes. Other days, most days, she is filled with unrest and anxiety. I don't believe she knows who I am, but I believe the Holy Spirit within both of us connects. A moment to treasure from one rambling mind to another.
As I rub the good hand of my brother on his frozen and rigid body, I remember his born again moment several years ago. He has a peace and calm and humor about him not found in most of us. He is content. I marvel at the wonder and awe of this God of ours who brings such a miracle. And these restless bodies connect. I am grateful.
And through His Sprit I am redeemed and resurrected. And so are they. So are they.
The resurrected heart first bears the cross with our Savior. We will never suffer as He did for us. He knows the way through all of the suffering we endure in this short life. Rambling minds, both real and imagined, restless bodies aching for relief and movement, become His eternally. One day with open minds and healed bodies we will see clearly. His Easter becomes ours now and forever.
However, as it is written, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Corinthians 2:9
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