
When I was a child, our family used to take day trips to the New Jersey shore. I enjoyed playing in the sand and the shallow, foamy water. The waves could be rough, though, and even though I knew how to swim, I was reluctant to venture out far—worried I would get knocked over and never find my way up.
One day my father, who must have been aware of my fear, convinced me to go out with him into deeper water. He led the way, navigating the rolling sea until we were in a calmer place, beyond where the waves break.
Holding both my hands, he let me experience how the ocean would gently lift us up and ease us down. Smiling, he said, “See? It’s so easy! It’s so nice out here…so easy…”
I cherish this memory of my dad, and appreciate its reminders of trust and peace. I can still feel the water lifting us up and easing us down. The memory has been especially comforting to me recently in my care of Dale.
Dale’s moods can sometimes fluctuate abruptly, like waves of rough water that I don’t see coming. His “ocean” of feelings shifts from calm to choppy and then back again with no obvious cause.
I can easily feel knocked over, sand and sea in my nose and mouth, struggling to find my footing and air to breathe. Even though I recognize the disease at work and know ways to cope, I sometimes lose my balance.
However, as in my childhood experience, others are present to help and reassure—through prayers, contacts, visits. They help “right” me, carrying God’s Love and reminding me that even in deeper waters, I am not alone. Love—like the buoyancy of salty ocean—continues to lift me.
“But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.”
Isaiah 43:1 – 2
Norma, the love you and Dale have shared must have been even stronger than realized, for I know anyone else would have experienced the strong, harsh upheaval long before now. Just as I’ve felt Dale was dealing heroically with the disease and its unkind presentations, I also see you continuing with abiding love despite such signs. May the Lord bless each of you in the days ahead as you two have been blessings to others all around. Dale’s “first church” in Wilson continues to pray for you both.
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Thank you, Faye! Your love and prayers, and those of the Wilson congregation, mean more than I can express.
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I’m so glad you’re leaning on this memory of your dad and your faith. It makes me cry on your anniversary because while I’m glad you are I’m guessing you’re deeply in touch with that scared child part of you and I want to be one more person who loves you to buoy you up, not telling you it’s easy like your dad could about swimming in the open water but telling you I care that it can be so hard with his changes so unpredictable but somehow everything will be ok. The scripture you chose from Isaiah is one of my favorites. I was leaning on it hard early in my healing. God has called you and Dale both by name and you are God’s. You will not be consumed by Dale’s “choppy” though it’s bound to feel like you will be. Hold on.
Your post makes me think of my mom’s favorite hymn: 0Loved lifted me.” “But the Master of the sea heard my despairing cry—from the waters lifted me now safe am I…..(and ands with) When nothing else would help love….lifted…me!” We love you both so much.
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Oh, dear Lisa. Thank you for these words from your heart. Thank you for being with us. We love you so much!
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