Walking to the Elevator
"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction,
faithful in prayer." Romans 12:12 (NIV)
My husband Bruce often comments, "Growing old isn't for sissies!" This despite the fact that, even as I type this post, Bruce is running his routine three-mile route. I, however, am echoing Bruce's sentiments more and more these days as old age increasingly overcomes my Mama's body and mind. Last weekend we took Mama with us to our family lake house for Memorial Day. As we pulled up to the lake house that Mama and Daddy built, Mama said, "This is a nice house. Who lives here?" Yesterday when I visited Mama at her assisted living center, I asked her how could I best pray for her. She shrugged her little shoulders and said, "I don't know." It's becoming increasingly harder to engage her in a meaningful conversation, so I switched gears and asked her, "OK, Mama. What is one thing that you pray for yourself?" Mama's response shook me as she said flatly, "I pray three times a day that God will give me the strength to walk to the elevators. It's a long way."
"Walking to the elevators" is Mama's way of saying "getting to the dining hall." To remain in assisted living, the residents must be able to get to the dining area on the lower level on their own. Mama uses a walker to assist her as do most of the other residents. Mama somehow knows that in order to stay in the place she has called "home" for the last 4.5 years, she has to keep walking at least three times a day. Her arthritis makes each step a stab. Her body and mind are breaking down with each passing day.
I gently reassured her that praying for strength to walk to the elevators is certainly something that I can and will pray for her. She didn't give me much of a response, so I shifted our conversation to my favorite topic: my granddaughters. It's never a struggle to talk about them, especially when I have a captive audience!
"Mama, Julia had her first piano recital yesterday. Would you like to see a video of her playing the piano?" I asked.
"Who?" Mama responded.
"Julia, Meredith's little girl. She's six and she's been taking piano lessons for the last 4 months. Remember, I told you that Kay (my cousin) gave us her piano when she moved out of state. Julia is playing Kay's piano now."
Mama nodded her head as I moved to the edge of her lift chair, eased close beside her, and started Julia's recital video on my cell phone. Mama strained to see Julia on the small screen, but after the first few notes sounded, she began singing softly by herself:
"Sweet hour of prayer;
Sweet hour of prayer
That calls me from a world of care."
Surprised that Mama recognized the tune, much less remembered the words, I quickly joined her as each one of Julia's single notes rang from the piano. Together Mama and I sang,
"And bids me to my Father's throne
Makes all my wants and wishes known
In seasons of distress and grief
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter's snare
By Thy return, sweet hour of prayer."
Mama's sweet smile said it all. She remembered! And there was joy in the memory of the ancient truths. Much like James Bruce amidst his autism, Mama found comfort and something familiar in the music and lyrics of the old hymn. So did I as I remembered the countless Sunday night evening hymn sing services growing up in Hunter Street Baptist Church. The music's lyrics were woven into the fabric of our souls bringing, much like God's Word, comfort, grace, and relief in times of need, distress, and grief. This season of Mama's aging process is indeed a season of grief, not just for Mama, but for those who love her. Our suffering and grief are not unique to us. The Apostle Paul writing to Roman Christians 2000 years ago reminds us, "We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time." (Romans 8:22)
But we never groan alone. Four verses later, Paul reminds the Romans- and us- "The Spirit helps our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express...the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." (Romans 8:26-27) I can be sure that as Mama groans for strength to walk to the elevator and as I groan for strength in this season of suffering, God himself is groaning with us and for us according with His will.
I left Mama's room yesterday with a grateful heart. I am overwhelmed with God's rich gifts and tender mercies: piano recitals, video technology, creative artists, timeless lyrics, a Mama who remembers; a Father who listens, a Spirit who intercedes, and the privilege and comfort of prayer.
May all of us who groan and suffer be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer...by His grace and for His glory.