DEAR GOD… WHEN CAREGIVING HURTS, HEALS, AND LEANS HEAVY ON MY SHOULDERS
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9
Today, I told myself I would wait until the temperature climbed to at least forty degrees before heading out to decorate my sister’s room at the nursing home for Christmas. I’m bringing her a case of pudding and picking up the dirty laundry — the usual “big sister doing what needs to be done” routine.
But before I even put my coat on, a familiar companion showed up… guilt.
Not guilt because I don’t want to help — I do, with all my heart.
But guilt because sometimes… Lord, I am just tired.
Tired from my own responsibilities.
Tired from my job, my husband’s appointments, my grandchildren, my writing, my own body acting up on me.
Tired from being pulled in ten different directions while trying to stay whole myself.
And there’s a special kind of guilt that comes with caregiving when you are exhausted.
A guilt that whispers, “You should be doing more.”
A guilt that berates you for needing a break.
A guilt that makes you feel like resting means failing.
Especially when the person you’re caring for is your younger sister.
Only 48.
Bed bound.
Multiple strokes.
Speech limited.
Taken down by a condition we didn’t even know existed until it barged into our family like a thief in the night.
Sometimes I walk into her room and see her lying there, and my heart squeezes because I remember who she used to be — strong, funny, quick-witted, full of that younger-sister attitude that kept me on my toes.
And then another wave hits:
How dare I complain about being tired when she would give anything to switch places with me for one day?
But Lord… that is not the truth You want me to carry.
Because even with her limitations, she and I still do what sisters do:
trash talk, laugh, joke, roll our eyes, and make the nurses wonder what on earth is going on in Room Whatever-It-Is-This-Week.
She’s still her, and I’m still me, and our sisterhood refuses to die.
And yet, the guilt still shows up when I catch myself sighing too hard, or wishing for one quiet weekend, or resenting the cold weather because caregiving is already heavy enough.
But today, Father, You whispered something to my heart:
“Guilt is not your assignment. Grace is.”
Caregiving is not a competition of strength.
It is not a performance for heaven.
It is not a test You are grading me on.
It is love lived out loud.
It is compassion with skin on it.
It is the ministry nobody sees but You.
Decorating her room today…
It’s not just Christmas décor.
It’s dignity.
It’s joy.
It’s a reminder that she is still here and still loved.
And it is a reminder that I am still allowed to be human.
So Lord, when the guilt rises because life is heavy,
when responsibilities pile up faster than I can carry them,
when I feel torn between caring for her and caring for myself,
remind me:
You never asked me to do this perfectly.
You only asked me to do it with love.
And love, even tired love, is still holy.
With Love,
Chelle
Tag: christmas
Entertained By Angels
My God, My God.
After my very good doctor’s appt today, my husband & I went to a restaurant a bit out of our way, but I insisted because I wanted to see my fav waitress, Theresa Ann Hatch . Long story short, a couple from Columbus, Ohio were also drawn to detour and find Satterwhites. After they left, Theresa tells us that the gentleman said God told him to pay for our meal. When I ran out to find them in the parking lot he says she wasn’t supposed to tell me but since I was there……..he read all the mail in my heart from all the letters I have ever written to God. Had me crying in the parking lot. Talked my hearts desires and my need for rest and that God doesn’t expect a minster like me to try to rescue the whole world but do my part. He also said I need to get in my head how much God loves me and not just in a generic sense.
He never gave me a chance to say a word, so everything he said was 100% from God. They held on to me, and it brought a peace that I can not describe. Oddly my eyes were still dilated from my retina appt so I couldn’t get a grasp of what they looked like, just that they had a glow about them that wasn’t hurting my eyes like the sun does when your eyes are dilated. I don’t know if God will allow me to see them again in this life as they were just passing through, but My God, My God, I believe I entertained angels.
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Smiles And Tears Cake
When a situation births the twins of joy and pain, it makes me feel schizophrenic.
My go-to response is to clean the kitchen and bake something new. Mess up what I just fixed with goodies I will never eat. Provide delight to others while I’m screaming inside. Ministering sweets to others when I need a taste for myself.
My current loss is another’s gain. I feel quite selfish in wanting to hold on to someone who I am happy is finally free.
I know. I know. It is not the end of all things. We will meet again, at some junction, some highway, under some rainbow.
She liked to say I put my “foot in that!”.
Naw gurl! It’s smiles and tears.
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Reset
Today, I reset but will not rewind.
I will no longer take cuts with knives I sacrificed for and be hit with stones that I have the deed to. I must say so long to my “Job’s” friends (from the Bible, not work) who need to eclipse me in order to find shine. I will no longer fill voids and patch wounds while being left on battlefields alone. I can no longer be held hostage for my portion or my inheritance
I have never claimed to be perfect or to have all the answers. Life never gave me an easy button or a GPS. I never had the finer things but would give you the shirt off my back. Never had gold in my pocket but every penny you had access to. I did my best with the hand I was dealt. That’s all God requires of m, and in my matured year, I am learning that is a very good thing.
Lord, forgive me for hearing their voices over Yours. I return to the peace you purchased and the love you freely give. I am bruised but not broken. Cast down but not destroyed. Though I sometimes stumble, I will dance with the limp I got and to the song I write.
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I said I wasnt..but
I believe almost every member of my family has the giving bug that was gleefully transmitted by my grandma, Alice Gillison. Though only Goochland Christmas for one year in the early 80s, she continued to do the organizing and giving right up until 19 days before she died. She was better than Oprah with “every child gets a gift” campaign.
No matter how poor we were (and we were close to dirt), she believed that giving was living.
I first picked it up on a small scale in memory of her . Then again, because I wanted to adopt a little boy for Christmas after my beloved grandson, Emmanuel slipped away to heaven. My husband and I blessed a little boy with “Manny’s” share last week.
The collections get larger every year. For the past 5 years, I have said each year that I wasn’t going to do anymore. Each year, I Iie to myself.This year, I tackled doing this for two organizations. I have decided that I am nuts, but I love it. Lol.
Thanks for the “Gift” Grandma.
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No Fruit Cake, Please
Reflecting on yesterday’s Christmas blessings.
My husband’s latest scans came back clean. Whew just in time to put a little Christmas cheer back.
My “partner in crime” cousin’s suspected breast cancer turned out to be nothing. I think she is happy I bug folks about smash-a-grams.
The Lord put me in the path of a young man who needed a Christian stranger to look past color, gender and class to “read his mail”. He thought he had hit a psychic reading which gave an inroad to talk about WHO a word of knowledge really comes from.
Then an unexpected last minute dessert order that I really didn’t know how to charge for, helped pay for 6 new sets of thermals for donation to Blessing Warriors RVA Inc. .
All I need now is for no one to offer me fruit cake and this will be the best Christmas ever.
Merry Christmas Everyone
With Love and Penmanship – Michelle
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Bloom Again
YOUR LESSON FOR TODAY.
A few days ago I was going to toss it because the other early blooms had died and it was looking rough. But I choose to cut away the dead parts and sure up the soil for what looked like one last shoot. I tied her to a bamboo stick for support. And within days this happens!!!
So take note, no matter what life looks like you will bloom again. Just remember:
1. Let Go of the dead habits and toxic folks along for the ride.
2. Check your roots and use some self care to fertilize your path
3. Tie yourself to a good support system Faith – Family – Good Friends and pro counseling!
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Have Faith
Because of our crazy blended family, I don’t get to see all my 10 grandkids during Christmas. So I gave my oldest son’s kids their gifts early so they could have Christmas together before the eldest boy leaves to spend Christmas in NJ with his mom.
The youngest in this bunch, Jonah, had a gift from me that hinted at a much wanted gift that his parents are giving him on Christmas day. He was totally confused as to why I gave him a video game for a console he does not have. I told him to go have faith. We then begin to sing his fav new phrase “Holy Spirit Activate”.
How amazing it would be it we would grab onto the promises of God this way? He has already dropped the hint. Now go have faith!!!!
Merry Christmas, Love Always Michelle
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Heart Hungry
I was out in the Carytown area yesterday. One of the worst places to be when you know that you can’t have solid food for 36 hours before a medical test. But I was looking to pick up my last meal for a few days and wanted something special.
However my husband and I ran across homeless people near the trash cans of so many of these trendy restaurants . I began to weep when I saw them because this is America….the land of excess…and yet so many are living like this. Carytown flows with cash. Most times I can afford nothing there. It was heartbreaking seeing people of all ages and colors hoping for some wasteful person’s scraps.
This situation is only exasperated by Covid closing so many churches and shelter resources. It is also created by a ” I got mine. You get yours” attitude so many financially secure people have.
We don’t have a lot in our house but we are blessed. My husband and pooled what we had and bought as many sandwiches and fries we could handle. Thank you to the Carytown McDonald’s for asking what we were doing and donating a matching amount of bottled water.
I was shook so much by one married couple out on the corner with what seemed to be all of their possessions huddled against the cold. I freaked when I noticed a baby stroller but was relieved to find it was a very old dog wrapped in a blanket. I’m not a pet lover but I had to feed it. The poor thing was so tired looking he barely lifted his head at the smell of food. The young husband was so grateful he started to cry.
In the age of Covid you can’t touch, get too close or even see smiles anymore. But I was struck by all the emotions in his eyes and they spoke the volume of the problems in the human experience. His eyes were a golden brown color that I have never seen before and pierced right through me as a reminder to be grateful in all things. Even under the dirt and behind a make shift mask his face glowed.
I also noticed that they still wore their wedding bands. Tells me that they have not been out there too long. Most folks would have pawned for a room. Also tells me that they are determined to stay a family.
My husband and I made one last pass thru the street to make sure we hadn’t missed anybody we saw. Thought I had gone crazy because the couple and that old dog were suddenly gone. No way they could have moved that fast. We had just circled the block.
All I can do is wonder if we had been visited and tested. I pray we passed. My own food is still in the fridge. No need for it. My heart filled me.
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A Christmas Story
Twas the night before Christmas
And I had just closed my country store.
Turned the locks, shaded the windows
When there was a frantic knock on the door.
The sales were quite over. Merchandise was quite done.
I had had quite enough of Christmas.
Nothing left to sell ya, not a toy. Not a one.
I was quite tempted,
To shout “No Room At The Inn”
But remembered my Sunday School Teacher
She’d say “ Naughty, Naughty Sin”
It was a Papa, a Mama, and a few little ones
How could I pass?
Seeing chubby cheek chilled faces
Pressed against that last pane of glass.
The snow and wind came in behind them,
A huge chill filled the air
Yet there was a warm glow all about them
Oh so happy I was there.
“Patch of Ice You Say, Car in a ditch, Everything Tossed”
“Big Boom” the children said excitedly
Mama chimed “cold and lost”
On the phone was Papa
“ We can’t wait, no place to stay.”
“Sorry Buddy” the tow driver retorted
“Don’t you know it’s a Holiday”
Everything then in me
Wanted to hide under my bed and weep.
For surely in house full of strangers
This old shop keeper would get no sleep.
So I rekindled the fire,
Boiled milk for a cup of cocoa or two
Exclaimed not much food left in here
But all I have is open to you.
The Kids Got All Excited,
and Raced to the Tree
At the prospect of candy canes still hanging
And suddenly free.
Mama was ingenious,
what she did with that spam.
Totally convinced me and the Papa
Of the miracle of canned ham.
As I pulled blankets, and soft pallets
And strew them about the floor
I realized though I had made a killing this Christmas,
It was they that truly had more.
They played games, they told stories
They laughed about with glee.
They had a joy about them
That had long ago escaped me.
My head and heart couldn’t take it
I yelled for them to stop
How could they be so crazy happy
When their holiday was such a flop?
No real food, amiss from presents,
and sleeping on the floor.
Stuck in ditch and with a grumpy stranger
In an empty Christmas store.
When just then ,
a little hand tugged
at the hem of my dress
Said “ Hey Lady ,
in Jesus there are no strangers
and this aint such a mess.
See we headed to grandpa’s fancy house
Up on a really big hill
Though we were scared when the car went boom
Daddy said , “let’s find God’s good will.”
We came through the cold and snow
When God led us to your door.
And now you have shared all that you had
So I just know God will bless you more.
As I looked into those little eyes
It was very plain to see.
It was not me helping them that was God’s good will
But it was them helping me.
It’s not about the trimmings, not the money
Or any kind of gift
The true celebration of Christmas
Is seeking His will for who you are with.
As I settled in a rocker that night
Humming my little messenger to sleep.
I wonder if this was how Mary felt
And I knew why she did weep.
Though His gift was wrapped so quietly
In a manager filled with hay
He was destined to be presented triumphantly
On a Hill far away.
So if your Christmas spirit has escaped you
Look around for who you are with.
Seek the will of Him who sent you.
That’s your greatest gift.
Already bought and paid for
Precious blood, highly priced.
He Reached out for a stranger
And Gifted this day in paradise.
Michelle Gillison-Robinson, Christmas 2016
defygravitywithoutwings.com 