Guest post by Lana Christian

“I’d like to talk with you about your son,” the school principal said on the other end of my phone. “I think he may need some help coping with stress in his life. Are any major changes happening in your family?”

My father was losing his battle with an incurable cancer. My mother, who had never kept a checkbook or driven on a highway, was coming to grips with all she had to learn to do for herself. I thought I had ably juggled caregiving, coaching mom, and helping my [then] nine-year-old son understand why his grandpa would not get better. The principal’s call suggested otherwise.

I slumped into a chair, wondering what to do next. The phone rang again.

The ICU nurse’s words were calm but measured. “Your father has taken a turn for the worse. You should come here right away.” Every ball I’d been juggling crashed around me.

Scraps of thoughts squeezed between ragged gasps. School night. Son. Sitter. I called a friend. Thankfully, Terri and her husband, Jim, arrived at my door fifteen minutes later.

“What can we do?” Terri said.

I stared blankly. I had asked her to babysit.

Then Terri did something extraordinary. “What little piece of your life can I help bring back in order?” she asked. “I don’t care what it is. Just tell me, and I’ll try to help.”

Her words unlocked something in the depths of my soul. Before my brain could process it, my mouth blurted, “The house needs cleaning.” I gulped and looked away, mortified. I hadn’t called Terri for on-demand maid service. I’m no neatnik. But a perpetually dirty house on top of a year of unending stress and had sent my chaos meter into tilt mode.

“OK,” Terri said briskly. “Take all the time you need to at the hospital.”

My dad almost died that night. When I finally dragged myself home shortly before sunrise, I was exhausted and numb. The next day, as my son chattered about the great playtime he’d had with Jim, I noticed the dishes had disappeared from the sink. The entire first floor was vacuumed and tidied. Even the tops of doorframes had been dusted. My profuse thanks to Terri couldn’t express my soul-depth gratitude.

As caregivers, we often ignore our own need for care until someone forces us to think about it. Even then, our first answer won’t likely articulate what we really need. We need to reconnect with our souls to ask ourselves the right question—and get truly useful answers. Then pay it forward: ask Terri’s second question when we talk to a caregiver who may need care.

A friend loves at all times, And a brother is born for adversity.
Proverbs 17:17

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.