February 2, 2010
Jane was literally all alone. I strongly felt I was supposed to go and see Jane again, and that I was supposed to do it regularly. But to be honest, I was reluctant. The conversation between myself and God went something like this. "But God, how am I going to fit driving to the nursing home to see Jane into my schedule? How long would I be making a commitment for? What if she lives a long time? This is what you want me to do? You sure about this God? I know—maybe I could go that way on Wednesday nights when I go to choir practice. Maybe I could fit it into my schedule that way." It was like God clearly stopped me in my tracks and admonished me with a holy thump to the head. "If I am asking you to do something I want you to do it. I don't want you to try to figure out a way to "fit it" into your schedule. I just want you to obey me and do it." Okay, God. I'll do it. I will go visit Jane every Monday morning.
There were several more difficult meetings over the weekend, but the protective barrier of God's love continued to surround me.
Monday morning came and I headed to the nursing home. As I drove and thought back over my first visit with Jane, the miraculous nature of the encounter and her amazing prayer of God's blessing over my life, the realization that it was a God-ordained meeting began to sink in more and more. As I was driving I was praising God for His many blessings.
The drive to the nursing home felt like it took forever. My reluctance to add weekly visits with some random elderly lady in a nursing home to my already full schedule, was quickly replaced with eager anticipation. What would I find when I got there? All the circumstances surrounding my first meeting with Jane seemed so remarkable ... was there really a woman in the nursing home named Jane? I don't think it would have shocked me to have walked into the room only to discover that no Jane had ever lived there and that I had encountered an angel. Our first meeting was that incredibly amazing.
I walked down the hallway to Jane's room. Jane did exist, but that was just about all she was capable of doing. I never again saw Jane sitting in her lazy boy chair. I never again had a long (or any) mutual conversation with her. It wasn't until Jane died a year and half later that I learned she had not been able to have a conversation like we had during our first meeting—for years! Years before our first meeting! The "real" Jane did not even remotely resemble the woman I'd met (three days before) and with whom I'd spent an hour or so of time enjoying a friendly and engaging conversation.
The "real" Jane had Parkinson's disease and advanced dementia. Jane thought her mother was alive, but her mother had died when Jane was in her early 20's. Jane couldn't walk, couldn't dress herself, or perform any activities of daily living—none. Jane struggled to speak even a few words. She seldom tried, but when she did try, it was painful to watch as she struggled to form a word and try to vocalize it. Jane spent her days either lying in bed or sitting in a wheel chair. Her body was rigid. If she started to lean to the side while sitting in her wheelchair, she could not straighten herself back up. I would try to help her back into an upright position but she had no control over her body and could not hold herself upright. Jane never again knew my name or anything about me.
I went to see Jane every Monday for a year and a half. It was never something I had to "fit" into my schedule. It was pure joy. It was impossible to have a bad week when you started it out by visiting Jane. Our "visits" consisted of me reading to Jane from one of her Bible's or singing to her. Most of the time I couldn't tell if she could hear me or not, but knowing that hearing is the last of the senses to go, I read to her any ways hoping she could still hear. Occasionally she would respond by repeating something I had read. I remember reading her Psalm 8 and when I finished she said, "What is man..." with her voice trailing off.
Shortly after I met Jane she was put under the care of Hospice—she was dying. It wasn't until I met Jane's Power Of Attorney for the first time, over a year later, that I learned the whole story. Jane developed a bladder infection while she was in Hospice. Because Hospice typically does not treat illnesses, Jane's POA decided to remove her from Hospice so the infection could be treated. She told me that at the time she didn't know why, but she just knew she had to remove Jane and have the treatments begin. It would have been so much easier for her just to have let Jane die. Jane was 87, with advanced dementia, Parkinson's, and just barely existing. Jane's POA wasn't family, she was just a former co-worker Jane asked to take on the job because she didn't have anyone else to ask. It was a huge responsibility and time commitment. She shared with me that she sometimes felt resentment towards Jane's PA family and often wondered why someone didn't take Jane back to PA? Why did they leave her in Indiana with just acquaintances to care for her?
It would have been so easy for Jane's POA to have let Hospice continue and leave the bladder infection untreated. Not only easy, but perfectly rational, legitimate, and arguably a wise decision to let nature take it's course. But she couldn't. Oh, thank God she couldn't. Because just months after the decision was made to begin treatment and extend Jane's life, Jane spoke the words that forever changed our lives and has impacted hundreds of people around this country. It is the basis for why we must tell HIS Story about HIS faithfulness and HIS love. Her Name Was Jane! Jane was loved by God, and she accepted that love and loved him back with all her heart. Jane's life's desire was to serve God, and she did. Until her dying day—and beyond—her life has been used to bring glory to God.
Five years.
For five years God had been preparing us for this very moment—the year 2007. He prepared my husband and me by having us go to a specific nursing home every Christmas morning. God knew that five years down the road HE was going to speak to us through a godly woman named Jane who lived there. Of all the years we went to that nursing home we never went down the hall where Jane lived. We always went the opposite direction so we didn't even know Jane existed.
Five years.
We were alone on Christmas mornings. Our daughter lived in another state and our Christmas celebration with our son's family was on Christmas Eve. We decided that since we were free on Christmas mornings we ought to give of ourselves to those less fortunate, and we decided to go to a nursing home. We chose a specific nursing home because at that time it wasn't the most popular one in the area. We figured that some of the other local nursing homes probably had more people visiting during the Christmas season. Besides, my husband's Grandma had spent a few months there many years prior. So, off we went. For the first years we took a basket with fruit and Little Debbie snacks and would go room to room visiting with the residents. In later years we would spend time with the residents playing Bingo and helping them open their gifts. What stories we have. The gentleman that tried to con my husband out of his watch (he had a whole drawer full); the lady who was trying to remember "what do you call the stuff that you put on cereal in the morning" (sugar) and then she said, "I know... it is the United States of America"; the young man who had walked away from church as a teenager that we could now encourage and pray for. All those years of going—no Jane.
What If:
What if?
What if we weren't already grounded followers of God?
What if God would not have blessed our lives with Jane?
What if God had not guided us or walked with us on this journey?
We most certainly would have failed.
No mere words will ever be enough to thank the God of heaven for reaching down and impacting our lives with His Words. All we can do is thank Him by living our lives in a way that honors Him. We have to tell HIS Story.
Praise God—ALL Glory and Honor belong to HIM.
Addendum: 9/25/13 ~ To read more of how God impacted our lives through Jane go to: Walking By Faith: A True Story of God's Faithfulness.
Next Entry: Exodus 23:1 – 24:18 (Continued)
Jane was literally all alone. I strongly felt I was supposed to go and see Jane again, and that I was supposed to do it regularly. But to be honest, I was reluctant. The conversation between myself and God went something like this. "But God, how am I going to fit driving to the nursing home to see Jane into my schedule? How long would I be making a commitment for? What if she lives a long time? This is what you want me to do? You sure about this God? I know—maybe I could go that way on Wednesday nights when I go to choir practice. Maybe I could fit it into my schedule that way." It was like God clearly stopped me in my tracks and admonished me with a holy thump to the head. "If I am asking you to do something I want you to do it. I don't want you to try to figure out a way to "fit it" into your schedule. I just want you to obey me and do it." Okay, God. I'll do it. I will go visit Jane every Monday morning.
There were several more difficult meetings over the weekend, but the protective barrier of God's love continued to surround me.
Monday morning came and I headed to the nursing home. As I drove and thought back over my first visit with Jane, the miraculous nature of the encounter and her amazing prayer of God's blessing over my life, the realization that it was a God-ordained meeting began to sink in more and more. As I was driving I was praising God for His many blessings.
The drive to the nursing home felt like it took forever. My reluctance to add weekly visits with some random elderly lady in a nursing home to my already full schedule, was quickly replaced with eager anticipation. What would I find when I got there? All the circumstances surrounding my first meeting with Jane seemed so remarkable ... was there really a woman in the nursing home named Jane? I don't think it would have shocked me to have walked into the room only to discover that no Jane had ever lived there and that I had encountered an angel. Our first meeting was that incredibly amazing.
I walked down the hallway to Jane's room. Jane did exist, but that was just about all she was capable of doing. I never again saw Jane sitting in her lazy boy chair. I never again had a long (or any) mutual conversation with her. It wasn't until Jane died a year and half later that I learned she had not been able to have a conversation like we had during our first meeting—for years! Years before our first meeting! The "real" Jane did not even remotely resemble the woman I'd met (three days before) and with whom I'd spent an hour or so of time enjoying a friendly and engaging conversation.
The "real" Jane had Parkinson's disease and advanced dementia. Jane thought her mother was alive, but her mother had died when Jane was in her early 20's. Jane couldn't walk, couldn't dress herself, or perform any activities of daily living—none. Jane struggled to speak even a few words. She seldom tried, but when she did try, it was painful to watch as she struggled to form a word and try to vocalize it. Jane spent her days either lying in bed or sitting in a wheel chair. Her body was rigid. If she started to lean to the side while sitting in her wheelchair, she could not straighten herself back up. I would try to help her back into an upright position but she had no control over her body and could not hold herself upright. Jane never again knew my name or anything about me.
I went to see Jane every Monday for a year and a half. It was never something I had to "fit" into my schedule. It was pure joy. It was impossible to have a bad week when you started it out by visiting Jane. Our "visits" consisted of me reading to Jane from one of her Bible's or singing to her. Most of the time I couldn't tell if she could hear me or not, but knowing that hearing is the last of the senses to go, I read to her any ways hoping she could still hear. Occasionally she would respond by repeating something I had read. I remember reading her Psalm 8 and when I finished she said, "What is man..." with her voice trailing off.
Shortly after I met Jane she was put under the care of Hospice—she was dying. It wasn't until I met Jane's Power Of Attorney for the first time, over a year later, that I learned the whole story. Jane developed a bladder infection while she was in Hospice. Because Hospice typically does not treat illnesses, Jane's POA decided to remove her from Hospice so the infection could be treated. She told me that at the time she didn't know why, but she just knew she had to remove Jane and have the treatments begin. It would have been so much easier for her just to have let Jane die. Jane was 87, with advanced dementia, Parkinson's, and just barely existing. Jane's POA wasn't family, she was just a former co-worker Jane asked to take on the job because she didn't have anyone else to ask. It was a huge responsibility and time commitment. She shared with me that she sometimes felt resentment towards Jane's PA family and often wondered why someone didn't take Jane back to PA? Why did they leave her in Indiana with just acquaintances to care for her?
It would have been so easy for Jane's POA to have let Hospice continue and leave the bladder infection untreated. Not only easy, but perfectly rational, legitimate, and arguably a wise decision to let nature take it's course. But she couldn't. Oh, thank God she couldn't. Because just months after the decision was made to begin treatment and extend Jane's life, Jane spoke the words that forever changed our lives and has impacted hundreds of people around this country. It is the basis for why we must tell HIS Story about HIS faithfulness and HIS love. Her Name Was Jane! Jane was loved by God, and she accepted that love and loved him back with all her heart. Jane's life's desire was to serve God, and she did. Until her dying day—and beyond—her life has been used to bring glory to God.
Five years.
For five years God had been preparing us for this very moment—the year 2007. He prepared my husband and me by having us go to a specific nursing home every Christmas morning. God knew that five years down the road HE was going to speak to us through a godly woman named Jane who lived there. Of all the years we went to that nursing home we never went down the hall where Jane lived. We always went the opposite direction so we didn't even know Jane existed.
Five years.
We were alone on Christmas mornings. Our daughter lived in another state and our Christmas celebration with our son's family was on Christmas Eve. We decided that since we were free on Christmas mornings we ought to give of ourselves to those less fortunate, and we decided to go to a nursing home. We chose a specific nursing home because at that time it wasn't the most popular one in the area. We figured that some of the other local nursing homes probably had more people visiting during the Christmas season. Besides, my husband's Grandma had spent a few months there many years prior. So, off we went. For the first years we took a basket with fruit and Little Debbie snacks and would go room to room visiting with the residents. In later years we would spend time with the residents playing Bingo and helping them open their gifts. What stories we have. The gentleman that tried to con my husband out of his watch (he had a whole drawer full); the lady who was trying to remember "what do you call the stuff that you put on cereal in the morning" (sugar) and then she said, "I know... it is the United States of America"; the young man who had walked away from church as a teenager that we could now encourage and pray for. All those years of going—no Jane.
What If:
- We had not decided to start going to the nursing home five years ago? When the unexpected storm caught us off guard in early 2007, I knew exactly where I was supposed to go.
- I was too ashamed to be seen in public after that first upsetting meeting and sleepless night?
- I had refused to listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting to go do something for someone else?
- I had not been asked to wait for the Activity Director that morning? I would have never went down Jane's hallway.
- I had never met Jane?
- I did not listen to the Holy Spirit prompting me to go back and see Jane every week?
- Jane was not treated for her bladder infection?
- Jane wasn't willing and ready to be used by God even in her 80's and while stuck in a nursing home alone?
- We had not received God's words through Jane?
- Jane had not told us to read Psalm 150 and Psalm 140 just days after our world was turned upside down?
- We had not understood the importance of Psalm 150? Praising God first and foremost.
- Jane had not told us to read Isaiah 30, just days before a critical meeting? What if she had not said, read the part about "wait on the Lord" again.
- Jane had not told me to memorize Psalm 1 in early 2008?
- Jane had not told me to read Jeremiah 33 just days before she died? One year to the day later God miraculously protected us and released us from a large financial obligation.
What if?
What if we weren't already grounded followers of God?
What if God would not have blessed our lives with Jane?
What if God had not guided us or walked with us on this journey?
We most certainly would have failed.
No mere words will ever be enough to thank the God of heaven for reaching down and impacting our lives with His Words. All we can do is thank Him by living our lives in a way that honors Him. We have to tell HIS Story.
Praise God—ALL Glory and Honor belong to HIM.
Addendum: 9/25/13 ~ To read more of how God impacted our lives through Jane go to: Walking By Faith: A True Story of God's Faithfulness.
Next Entry: Exodus 23:1 – 24:18 (Continued)
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