Guest post by Lana Christian

“What ifs” about loved ones becoming critically ill or permanently disabled aren’t on a new bride’s radar. As an already-veteran healthcare worker, I prided myself on having that difficult conversation with my spouse before we tied the knot. Even so, we both believed we wouldn’t need to face those “what ifs” for at least a decade.

We were wrong.

We spent our first anniversary bringing both my in-laws and my father home from hospital stays that had included stints in an ICU or progressive care unit.

My in-laws recovered to live normal lives. My father did not.

My dad’s near-fatal stroke paralyzed his entire left side for the rest of his life.

My son never knew how much his grandpa wanted to run and throw a football with him but couldn’t. Yet the two had an incredibly tender, close relationship. My son wasn’t put off by my dad’s labored gait, leg brace, quad cane, or even his permanently out-of-joint limp arm. Instead, my son would say, “Lean on me, grandpa. I’ll help you walk.”

My son was only five then. Obviously, he couldn’t support my dad’s weight. But my son intuitively modeled what would take me years to come to grips with: powerless caregiving.

I couldn’t change the “new normal” my dad had to navigate every day. Two years of physical therapy hadn’t made the muscles on his affected side remember how to work. My dad, a once-brilliant engineer, couldn’t remember what day of the week it was even when staring at a calendar. My mom accepted his physical limitations but not his cognitive changes. She became judgmental and harsh every time dad’s brain misfired. I couldn’t change her attitude any more than I could make dad’s left leg move on its own.

My healthcare training had ingrained situational analysis into my thinking. My dad had always modeled that if Plan A didn’t work, you could find a Plan B. Neither approach met the challenges of this difficult new normal.

God gently showed me that, in the face of powerless caregiving, being supportive matters most. That’s not necessarily synonymous with being encouraging. Encouragement can sound shallow and backfire if the words ease your conscience more than they comfort the person hearing them.

When you can’t change any aspect of a loved one’s world for the better, you can still be kind and understanding. See the difficulties of the person’s day, give grace, and offer whatever support is appropriate for the moment. Trust God to supply you with the full measure of grace you need. Set aside your expectations or plans and simply . . . be with.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Psalm 73:26 ESV

Lana Christian has a dual writing career in medicine and ministry. She won numerous APEX awards for the former and ACFW awards for the latter. She loves secret staircases, third-story windows, jazz, and chai tea. She believes hiking can solve most problems, but God can solve every problem. Visit her on Twitter.

Tracy Crump dispenses hope in her award-winning book, Health, Healing, and Wholeness: Devotions of Hope in the Midst of Illness (CrossLink Publishing, 2021). A former intensive care nurse, she cared for her parents and her mother-in-law and understands both the burdens and joys of caregiving. Her devotions have been featured in Guideposts books, The Upper Room, and many other publications, and she has contributed 22 stories to Chicken Soup for the Soul® books. She also conducts writing workshops, freelance edits, and proofreads for Farmers’ Almanac. But her most important job is Grandma to five completely unspoiled grandchildren.