Two weeks of wonderful

The mother daughter relationship has always been an enigma to me. I've watched many of them over the years with such a yearning because they truly liked one another and the daughters referred to their moms as their best friends. Huh? Obviously in our natural state, it's a challenging duo or the Lord wouldn't address it in His Word. So if you struggle in yours, God knows and has given us a plan to follow.

I struggled way more than I wanted to. And sadly and ashamedly, if you were in my life long, you heard about it. Like all parents, my mom wasn't perfect. And like most of us, she did the best she could with the tools her mom gave to her. And I recently was shown what a challenge I was as a daughter. But the struggle was so hard. I wanted to be those girls who looked to their mom as friends. As soon as I accepted the Lord as my Savior, I knew my heart was not where it should be. Before her stroke, we often just endured one another. Then when my dad died and my mom needed a guardian, with shoulders slumped over and many tears, I did what was right at the encouragement of my husband. I brought her to Oklahoma to care for her.  But my heart remained wicked and I did the bare minimum for my mom. Don't misunderstand. I would've nor could've purposely harmed her but every single thing I did to care for her was so hard. And I resented much of it because I kept looking back at her faults and my childhood.  I cannot count the endless hours of tearful begging that I took before the Lord to help me love my mom in such a deep selfless way. I continued to observe various mother daughters with envy because I just didn't feel it for her. And I was so ashamed inside. I hated it when people called me a wonderful daughter because I was so far from that truth. 

Then it came time to move to Indiana and the Lord pushed me outside of my me-box even more and mom came to live with us. I've given Tom and me some slack since doing home health nursing because a roommate is tough. Living with a parent is tougher. But caring for a mentally and physically handicapped mom whose life yours revolves around takes your breath away and it's hard! It daily brings you to your knees. No matter what, we had to stop three times a day to ensure she was fed. Twice a day up to six times a day, she needed meds. She needed laundry done. She needed her rooms and bathroom cleaned. She needed groceries. She needed a healthy diet. She couldn't be left alone for very long. She needed daily wound care. This situation just fueled my already wicked selfish heart. I felt like I just continued to endure her presence. I cried many many tears of frustration because I did not want this to be my life. I wanted time alone with my husband. I wanted to travel in my empty nest years. 

In the meantime, I'm filling my hours on the road with podcasts from some fantastic Bible believing men. They taught about practical relationships and what God has to say. They taught me that my feelings were not sinful. They also taught me to strive to do right. But more importantly be right in every arena of my being.
I spent many months resenting most things I had to do for mom. But I kept praying, recognizing my selfishness. Let's throw in her idiosyncrasies that accompany a stroke patient with dementia. It was just so hard and my heart remained wicked. But I kept yearning and praying to love her right and love her well. I wanted to have the same heart for her that I had for my patients. I continually sought Gods grace in this area of impossible.
Then slowly one day when she peeked around the corner to let me know she's awake and ready for me to do her foot and her smile lit up my heart. It was such a profound change I noted it right away. Slowly I found myself doing for her because I wanted her to feel loved. Slowly I no longer minded taking her places with me. I continued to pray and recognized how much my sinful flesh needed my mom because her presence was teaching me to do right and live for someone other than me. Then one day, two weeks before her accident, I felt nothing selfish. I loved her. I was ok with caring for her. The resentment was gone. It was such a wonderful wonderful gift I had been praying for 20 years. I remember the moment so vividly praising God for this victory.
For two beautiful weeks it was well with my soul. For two weeks I loved her in a way I never dreamt possible. For two weeks, her presence brought me happiness and smiles. I couldn't and still can't praise God enough.
Then in one swift motion our lives were changed. My mom was a quadrapalegic. The angst and grief that ensued that moment cannot be described. I would kneel before God and just cry. No words. Tears. Sobs. Begging. And now my heart was right but it was broken. The first night I allowed myself to come home was heart wrenching. I had everything I ever wanted for two years and I couldn't stop crying. And a month later I think I still hear her getting up then I remember all over again. I still cry. But I'm not giving up on bringing her home. I cheer her on and pray with her. I feed her meals and brush her teeth and it's truly a privilege. I can't wait until our next visit. She calls me her baby girl and I'm ok with that.