by Joanie Butman
I’m writing about my dad again this week because that’s who I’ve been spending a lot of time with recently. Funny, that was also the impetus for starting this blog almost ten years ago – journaling about time spent with my Heavenly Father and the myriad ways He shows up in my life. Actually, I’ve spent more time than usual with both of them recently. Without my Heavenly Father, I wouldn’t have the patience to deal with my earthly one.
As I mentioned last week, my dad has dementia and sadly doesn’t remember who we are other than nice people who take care of him. A life-long hypochondriac, my dad claimed he had ‘the Alzheimers’ long before any dementia set in. Years ago, he confided that his biggest fear was that he’d forget God. I always assured him, “Maybe you will, Dad, but He will never forget you!”
While we no longer have spiritual conversations, I still see him praying quietly before he eats and at bedtime, doing the rosary with my mom on occasion, and reciting the Act of Contrition repeatedly whenever he’s in the car with me. Clearly, he has no confidence in my driving ability. Last week as I was helping him into the car, he began “Oh my God I am heartily sorry for having affected me.” Even with dementia, human self-centeredness creeps in. The words should be offended thee.
First Communion Day
My dad’s faith has always been the core of his identity. His life-long relationship with Christ built spiritual muscle memory that doesn’t atrophy. He may get some words jumbled, but his connection to the Divine transcends language. How did he develop such a strong faith? Lots of time, prayer and through the hardships of life. Through each challenge, as we are stretched to the limit, spiritual muscle grows stronger. As any trainer will attest, it’s easier to put lost muscle back on than it is to to bulk up for the first time, which is why it is vital to keep spiritually fit before trouble comes. Scripture instructs, Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates (Deutoronomy 6:5-9). God wants His Word woven into the fabric of our being. Our minds and bodies will eventually fail, but our souls are made for eternity. It would be wise to keep them toned.
As I watch my dad fading, the importance of developing spiritual muscle is glaring. Our relationship with Christ is the only thing we’ll be taking with us when we depart this world. The best training I know is simply spending time with God, nurturing and strengthening a bond that can never be broken. It doesn’t matter whether it happens in the garden or in a pew. In fact, the temporary closing of churches has given us the opportunity to bring God out of the church building and into our homes, which is exactly where He yearns to be.
My father requires constant attention and, truth be told, that was the case all his life. Now, if we leave him alone even momentarily he will call out in a singsong voice, “Hellll-o-o-o-o, I’m over here. Isn’t anyone going to take care of me?” Sounds eerily similar to my prayers some days.
We don’t need dementia to feel forgotten by God. At some point we all face the Dark Night of the Soul, a spiritual depression of sorts. However, just because we feel alone doesn’t make it true. We can always choose to trust in Christ’s promise in Matthew 28:20, “Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
