If you, imperfect as you are, know how to lovingly take care of your children and give them what’s best, how much more ready is your heavenly Father to give wonderful gifts to those who ask him?
—Matthew 7:11-13 (TPT)
After having a career and an independent life, I returned to my mother’s care. I was always strong-willed, academic, a goal setter, most likely to succeed. Yet there I was, knees to chin, wrapped in a blanket, swallowed up in the cushions of Mom’s couch.
Lupus, a diabolical autoimmune disease, lingered like a plague, taking my independence and my will to live, leaving me lethargic, crippled, and barely one-hundred pounds. But my mother, a divorcee and primary caregiver for my adult sister created space for me in her downsized apartment.
On mornings when I was coherent, I watched her fix breakfast and lunch for me before leaving for work. She saturated the atmosphere with healing music. Verses like “‘For I will restore health to you and heal you of your wounds,” says the Lord,’ ” in Jeremiah 30:17, played repeatedly and built my faith in Jesus.
During her lunch breaks, Mom checked in to make sure I had eaten. And throughout the day, she sent emails lined with encouraging words or a prayer, always affectionately signed, “I LOVE YOU, Mom.”
Occasionally, when I felt like a burden to her, Mom reminded me I needed to be home and that I was coming out of this season. She would then busy herself with household chores, dispensing medications, and at night she rubbed Essential Oils on my feet and stomach so I could fall asleep.
Father, thank you for being the flawless example of love and for comforting those caring for their adult children. In Jesus’ name. Amen.