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One of the most difficult truths about life is the mysterious way God often will use something He hates in this broken world to accomplish something good and lovely. Almost everything about Dad's dementia (apparently Lewy Body Dementia, along with its wretched hallucinations) is despicable and cruel, especially in the irony that Dad had spent his career caring for "crazy people" unlinked to reality, and now his mind's ruined connections bring him to think there are kids in the room or that someone's going to imminently harm him. Other parts of his dementia are the more run-of-the-mill forgetfulness or disorientation such as when we were on the phone the other night, and he asked me to pray for him (we often close our conversations with prayer). I did of course, giving thanks for our time to talk and asking for healing and peace. Not long after I prayed, Dad asked for prayer again, and we went together to our heavenly Father asking His grace again. Once more, not long afterward, Dad asked yet again, & I chuckled as I led us again to God's throne-room to thank Him for His favor in Christ.
My prayer life is not what I want it to be; it's less frequent and less deep than I hope for. I often fail to grasp my need for God's transformation and often fail to trust His power and willingness to intervene in this world. But all of that is silly when I remember what He did for me at the cross.
Thanks God, for letting me come before You three times with Dad that day. I'm grateful that one day on the Other Side, Dad and I will be able to laugh (and cry?) about it with You together.
