The Lord has blessed me for this day
There weren’t any tears coming by my way
I saw no sadness, heard no bad words
I could actually hear the singing of birds.
Al sat outside a little today
He talked with me along the way
I give this thanks to God above
Who sent Al and me lots of love.
I can not figure out how it works
Because we know Parkinson’s can be a jerk
Thank you God for giving us this special day
To see Al being his old ways.
Terry Shepherd
This was the devotion today, and since I got something out of it, I am passing it along to all of my friends also. Hope you enjoy also!
July 31
Defeating the Devil’s Strategies
All of us make tracks through the valley of failure. Then the key question is, What we will do next? Sadly, many believers who stumble give up a vibrant kingdom-serving life for a defeated existence. But failure can also be a chance for a new beginning of living in Christ’s strength.
In pride, Peter thought his faith was the strongest of all the disciples’ and swore that even if the others left Jesus, he never would (Mark 14:29). Yet when the time of testing came, he denied even knowing Christ–and did so three times (Matt. 26:69-75). Satan hoped the disciple would be so wounded by his own disloyalty that his faith would be undermined by shame, condemnation, and despair.
Likewise, when the Enemy sifts believers today, his goal is for us to become shelved and ineffective for God’s kingdom. That’s why he goes after our strengths, especially the areas in which we proudly consider ourselves invincible. But if we’re willing, the Lord can use our failures to do spiritual housecleaning, as He did in Peter’s life. After the resurrection, Jesus met with the disciple personally and restored him, preparing him to become a great leader in the early church. He made it clear that Peter’s potential to serve was defined, not by failure, but by his unwavering love for Christ.
Peter laid down his pride, received the healing Jesus offered, and put on courage with the Holy Spirit’s help. He then risked his life fearlessly to further the gospel, and many came to Christ through his example. Failure was the catalyst that grew in him a stronger, more authentic faith.
You have heard the saying before, I am sure, that if you have not experienced it, you don’t know what I am talking about? I think this refers to me last night. Al is slowing down so quickly. I see him struggle to get out of the car or off the couch. Our bodies, when we want to move, we just “get er done”! When Al wants to move, it takes much time to get the brain to tell the body part what to do, then the brain has to register what the movement is, and then the body tries very hard to do the action. Let me tell you, with great pride and stubbornness, it can be done, but it can take several minutes to make one action complete!
Here is a good example at our home. We go to the grocery store to get the much-needed foods, mainly getting Al’s desires. As I don’t want him to lose anymore weight, I give into his fantasies of his taste buds. I pay for the groceries, and I load them into the car, and I have this done while I am waiting for Al to still get into the front seat. We drive home, and I get out of the car, and unlock the house, and carry in all the groceries, and still wait for Al to get out of the seat.
Can you picture now how long it takes the brain and the body to join together in thought and get moving? The frustrations that he feels, the humilites that follow him when others are present. I truly believe that this is the major reason that Al gets so nervous and stressed out when we are in public. He is overly concerned about what others are saying, although I do believe that most do not pay attention to him, it is Al who pays attention to his own self. He forgets how to use the levers on the scooter and ends up crying, making me wish we would not have went out.
Then you have the other side of the quarter. Al wants to continue to go to outings, and wants to live like he no longer had Parkinson’s. You know within your heart, it is going to not be a happy experience for him, but you can not take a way the desires he has, just because you know the better part of the outcome.
I took Al to a car show this past weekend, and he did fairly well. We took his scooter, and it was held under the open skies, so there were no boundaries for him to bump into. I have had to change myself, in the way that I was brought up. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t interrupt another person’s conversation. Don’t be a loud mouth. Use your manners we taught you. When I stuck the key in to give power to the scooter, I also gave power to let Al be Al. He smiled immediately, for one he was going to look at antique cars but the most important thing, I believe he smiled about was freedom.
This freedom gave him power, power that he used to have to make decisions for himself. He went to each car, and looked it over. Every single person he saw, he scooted his way to them, and started carrying on conversations as if he and they were old-time buddies. He was having a grand time. It was not a huge car show, so I stayed in the background with people who I knew, and just kept both eyes on him.
It warmed my heart, and I even over looked the people who wondered what he was all about and who was this person coming their way. He finally did come back, his lips were quivering, his body filled with so much sweat from the work of making the scooter go. This was a lot of decisions for him. Who was he going to talk to , what was he going to say, which way was he going to make the scooter go.
He was very tired and he wanted to go home. He could not get out of the scooter because he had used up all of his energy on his journey of independence. He needed help to also get into the car, but in his eyes, and also mine, it was worth every second to see him having time to be who he used to be.
This is what you lose when you gain Parkinson’s. A huge part of your personality and what you represent here on earth as a whole. The whole life of a Parkinson’s patient turns into a live nightmare, as you continue to try to live and breathe air.
Last night before we retired to our bedrooms, I saw him struggling so hard to get off of the couch, that I walked over and for one of those few times, I did offer to help him get up. He had been struggling long enough, that he didn’t hesitate my offer. When he finally worked his body to the edge of the couch, he held out his hand for me to help get him in the standing position. I gave him a gently tug, and he came up.
Without me living what he is living, I can not fully understand the body he lives in, and I automatically let loose of him once he was standing. I only think I know what he is going through, other wise, I would not have let go, and for this mistake he didn’t stop moving, he tumbled on over, once I stood him up. I felt so bad for my mistake and kicked my own butt for not thinking. I caught him before he hit the floor, and I apologized to him for having the strength of THE HULK, hoping to get a laugh or smile out of him, but it didn’t work. When I looked into his eyes, I saw fear, fear of being out of control and fear of wondering where he was going to be landing.
I am trying harder now to realize I don’t know Parkinson’s. I only google it, listen to doctor’s words, and watch Al. I am not going to beat myself up for this lack of thought process, but I did learn to be more cautious, and realize I can not know what others are living or thinking, until I have lived it myself also.
We reach our hearts out
And offer our help to
Be a friend and lend a hand
Only finding out that we are
Nothing but grains of sand
In this vast world and land
But we must be loving
And children of God
We continue our work
To show that we care
To allow them to live and be willing to dare
To live and to love and to be
Course of impulses between the brain and the body (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
who they are
We can not dismiss them as the weak and the sick
For it could be us, walking on the end of that stick.
Dahlia and the teacher didn’t do too much over the next couple of days. They spent a lot of time talking and getting to know each other better. Photos were shared between the two of each others families and past childhoods. Sunday, the two ladies went to church, and their was a church picnic following the service, which both attended. This was a great opportunity for Dahlia to get to meet more people in town.
Monday arrived, and Dahlia woke up extra early. She had not slept that well, from excitement, and was found dressed and in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the two of them. She had scrambled some eggs, and fried some sliced potatoes, and had made a batch of biscuits. When the teacher walked through the kitchen area, coffee was lingering in the air.
They both sat, and the teacher asked her if she wanted her to accompany her for her first day, and Dahlia replied no, with some laughter added. I am not a child, you do not have to take me to school, but thank-you. They both laughed over this. The teacher was just as excited for Dahlia as she was herself. After the table and dishes were cleaned, Dahlia gathered her books, said a quick good-bye, and headed out the door to her first day of her future.
There was much chatter in the commons as people were finishing up last-minute details in the office, and others were telling new-found friends good-bye, and they would catch up with each other at lunch, and others were seen bustling to classes. Excitement filled the air for everyone. Dahlia found her class with no problem, and sat herself in the first row, straight in front of the teacher’s desk. She didn’t want to miss any words that were spoken. Different students waved a hello to her as they recognized her from orientation day, and Dahlia waved and smiled back at them.
The teacher walked in and closed the door behind her. She introduced herself to all the students, and pulled out the book that they would be studying. Dahlia pulled her book also, plus a notebook and her pen and pencil. The class was started and finished before Dahlia knew it. Her morning proceeded the same way with each class, and when lunch time arrived, she and some of the other students that were sitting at her table, all talked about the teachers and how good they were, and what they were going to learn.
After lunch, Dahlia found herself in the big gymnasium. This is where a lot of hands on training was going to be taking place. On all four walls, there was no difference. Big, wide mirrors, clung to the walls, and long bars were attached underneath the mirrors.
Here Dahlia would work and exercise her body. She would learn many steps and she would be returning to this room many times to practice over and over. Before, she knew it, homework was in her bag and she was on her way home. The day had flown by, and Dahlia knew in her heart, that she was going to love going to this school. It had so much to offer and there were so many things to learn.
When she arrived home, the house was quiet. She had her own key, so she let herself in, and fell into the lap of the couch, threw her shoes off, and sat back and rested. The excitement of the day, had caused her to be sleepy, and before she realized it, her eyes drifted slowly shut, and she was found napping when the teacher came through the door. The teacher walked past her softly, as she didn’t want to awaken her. She knew that Dahlia had went through a big day and must be exhausted.
The smell of pork chops drifted through Dahlia’s senses and she woke up and yawned, and stood up stretched, and made her way into the kitchen to help with supper. The talk between them was mainly about her first day at school, and the teacher smiled as she saw the glow come from her eyes as she talked.
Dahlia got the hand masher and mashed the potatoes, and the teacher placed the meat and boiled corn on each of their plates. After holding hands and saying grace, they both ate with little words being exchanged. After dinner was finished, once again, the dishes were done, and the table was cleared. Dahlia went to her bag and got out her books and homework, and made herself comfortable at the kitchen table to start her homework.
She had been steadily studying, when her head began to ache a little. She stopped reading and rubbed the top of her head and rubbed her neck also. She got up from the table and went over and got a cool drink of water, and then returned to her studies. As she was reading, the words became blurry. She thought to herself, that this must be straining her eyes, and laid the books to the side, decided to take a small break.
She found the teacher outdoors on the porch swing. A basket of fresh flowers was sitting at her feet. Her hands had shades of dark on them from where she had been weeding her flower beds. She patted the seat next to her, motioning for Dahlia to sit down. They sat in silence and swung, taking in the chipper from the birds, and watching the cumulus clouds drift by.
Dahlia broke the silence by telling the teacher of her blurring vision, and the teacher explained what strain could be placed on the eyes from constant studying with no break.
The sun had started to set, and both ladies stood up from the swing, and walked back into the house, the teacher walked towards her own bedroom, and Dahlia walked back to the kitchen, and sat down to take up with her studies once again.
Who I am 