Dear Daughters,
A few weeks ago I was helping Grandpa and Grandma prepare for a trip to California with Aunt Rhonda and Valerie. Although they have traveled down south many times in their lives it’s different now that they are older.
Dementia has changed everything.
Although the trip was three days away there were many wonderings, numerous questions, countless concerns. “Who is going to take care of Willow when we’re gone? Will she have enough dog food? Who will feed the cats? Will we have time to fill my eye drop prescription? Who is driving us to the airport? What time do we leave? ” As Grandma carried the calendar from room to room she asked, “What day is it today? How many days until we leave?” The same questions were asked over and over in variation during the course of the preparation days. I simply said “Trust me, Mom. Everything’s ok.”
Even though I had written down the answers to many of her questions, she continually thought up new ones. The day before the departure date, while Grandma and I were packing the luggage together, she assured me that she had never seen that carry-on before. So I let her search through all the closets of the house, and when she couldn’t find the right one she reluctantly agreed to use the one I had chosen at the beginning.
Finally the day came to depart. The luggage was zipped up and ready to go. I needed to go into another room to make a quick phone call so I left for just a few minutes. When I came back the contents of the carry-on were scattered across the table. “I’m just double checking to see if we have everything we need,” said Grandma. With some slight frustration in my voice I again simply said “Trust me, Mom. We’ve got everything you’ll need.”
I smiled to myself, being transported back 20 years ago to when you four girls were young. So much of the same scenario presented itself except that now it’s my mother instead of my children doing these things.
An interesting part of this story is that a few days earlier we had 15 people over to the house, hosting an evening of music with some friends who love to sing. 
The pianist for the evening was Grandma. She was full of smiles as she welcomed guests at the door, and was sharp as a whip at the piano.
All she needed was a sheet of paper with the names of the songs and the key in which she played them. Whenever anyone chose a song from the prepared song sheet, they simply requested the song of their choice and within five seconds Grandma had the introduction in motion – flourishing arpeggios included.
It amazes me that one person can still be so gifted, yet have such deficits in other areas. But isn’t that just like all of us? We all shine in some way or another, yet have other areas that are not so shiny.
After Aunt Rhonda and Valerie left for California with Grandpa and Grandma, I got thinking about all the anxiety and worries that Grandma had been plagued with. And I wondered if we ever look that way to God.
Spiritual dementia.
We ask so many questions, What am I going to wear today? Should I change jobs? How are we going to pay all the bills this month? Will there be enough water for the crops to grow well this year? What if my marriage fails? How about my friends, will they stick near me or will I be abandoned? What if a tornado strikes our home?
On and on the doubts arise, the questions come over us like waves. Does God really care about all the details of my life? What about the choices my kids are making? What if I get sick and can’t work? What if identity theft happens to me?
Though it all God is constantly saying “Trust Me. I love you, I care about you. Trust Me. I will never leave you or forsake you. Trust Me.” I’ve had many anxieties over the years, betrayals, rejection – just like all of you. But as I look back on those years, God has given provision and comfort at every turn.
However, one thing he has not provided is understanding. I would love to know the what, where and why of many circumstances, but that would take away the necessity of faith. Of simple trust.
Things have often been difficult – in my marriage, in my work, in my mothering. But I have learned to trust, sometimes grudgingly, sometimes simply repeating the words “I Trust You” when there is no emotion and very little faith behind it, and at rare times with assurance.
Looking back on six decades of life there are still times when voices from the past – condemning, accusing, mocking voices still haunt. During those times too the words “Trust Me” have been woven like a thread throughout my existence. There were years that I didn’t trust, thought that I knew better than God so I did it my way, which brought sure misery. There were times when I, just like my mother, looked through all the closets for a different way, an easier way to live, and God watching and letting me search until I could find nothing else that satisfied. When I finally turned back to the words of truth: Trust in the Lord and do good. Love your husband – just as he is, let go of your children and let me lead them… Then, and only then did I find sweet peace. 
Now that we’re here caring daily for Grandpa and Grandma I still need to listen to God’s voice saying “Trust Me” during the days of uncertainty, questioning and repetition. And I pray that you, my beautiful daughters will learn to say those precious words “I Trust You” as well.
Love, Mom
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