Facing Our Giants

Before the famous altercation with Goliath, when David expressed anger at the blasphemous giant, one of his embarrassed older brothers who camped at the battle scene furiously derided him. But King Saul heard about David, and astonishingly, the king allowed the teenager to fight Goliath. Saul even put his tunic and armor on him. Saul was tall, but David wasn’t, and the king’s armor didn’t fit. Struggling to function in the ill-fitting battle garb, David removed it and faced Goliath his way—depending upon God’s might. David recognized he couldn’t succeed while wearing something that didn’t fit him.

How many try to “conquer a Goliath” while wearing something that doesn’t fit? The conditions of our loved ones serve as formidable giants to us, and we can’t fight them while trying to be, do, and act like something that doesn’t fit us.

David faced Goliath with his familiar sling—and his even more familiar trust in God’s abilities. While not a trained soldier, David’s love and trust provided the courage to face a giant.

Most of us aren’t trained medical professionals—and we don’t have to be. When facing our giants, we can be ourselves and, with love and trust, remain confident the battle is the Lord’s.

 “All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s.” —1 Samuel 17:47 niv

Author Beth Marshall shares her journey through grief and how she remains "Uncrushed." 

www.bethgmarshall.com 

Beth Marshall is a freelance journalist, conference speaker, and author of Grief Survivor and A Time to Heal, a grief journal. After losing close family members, she began to journal through the difficult days of grief. As she wrote about her loved ones and started connecting with others, she realized joy-filled life after loss is possible! 

Harsh Judgment

Interviewing a couple who raised two children with Huntington’s disease (HD) on my program, they relayed a heartbreaking story where they stood before a judge who clearly didn’t understand the nature of HD. After repeated arrests for shoplifting, violent behavior, and other issues, the judge commented from the bench that she felt this resulted from “bad parenting.” Unable to address the court or defend themselves, the couple shared, “We had to take it on the chin.”

A five-minute search or phone call by the judge would have provided a bigger picture of the nature of this horrific disease that brutalizes both patients and their caregivers. Sadly, the judge chose to go with an uninformed decision—and a regrettable lack of compassion.

While the judge’s comments remain grievous, how many caregivers “don the black robe” and make harsh and ill-informed pronouncements upon themselves while looking in the mirror? 

Countless caregivers spend way too much time condemning themselves for the out-of-control behavior of someone else. 

Whatever we wish that judge to have said to this broken and despairing couple, we would benefit from posting that same message on our bathroom mirrors.

I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice. —Abraham Lincoln

Longtime friend, Dr. Dan Scott (Pastor, Counselor - and caregiver) called the program to discuss his new book, Faith In The Age of AI - Christianity through the Looking Glass of Artificial Intelligence. 

If caregivers mapped out a decision tree for our daily lives, it would look like a forest. Each day we’re faced with numerous choices—and most seem filled with unpleasant outcomes. Sometimes the decisions before us have a paralyzing effect, and we don’t know what to do next.

In those moments, we serve ourselves well to choose the next right thing as our action step. The big problems become more approachable when our heads and hearts calm down. 

For that to happen, our decisions require “reduction.” 

Unlike the giant single unpleasant task of “eating the elephant one bite at a time,” decision reduction helps us focus by redirecting our eyes from the myriad choices to the micro-steps in our path. Maybe the next right thing is to drink water, sit down with a bowl of soup, take a nap, or even go for a walk. Although the problem usually remains, we tackle it better with a calmer and more disciplined mind. 

When offered this path, we invariably know the next right thing to do; we just usually need permission—not from others but ourselves.

The Bible supports this when affirming that God’s Word is “a lamp unto my feet.” 

It’s a lamp, not a searchlight. 

Do the next right thing—with the light provided.

Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves. —Henry David Thoreau

Before you make that appointment with a counselor, take a few moments and do these things. 

One of the toughest issues caregivers wrestle with - is guilt. In this episode, we discuss a path to deal with the guilt. 

Aggressive Assurance

Chapter 3 During a recent medical event with my wife, she received significant time with the acute pain  management team. To my surprise, they engaged me, asked questions, and solicited my thoughts as Gracie’s longtime caregiver. Recognizing that post-operative pain management with her is a bit of a trick, they listened as I shared numerous “incidents” from her long journey. 

After relating her history, I added, “In my experience, I’ve found that one of the most effective ways to help her is ‘aggressive assurance.’ Constantly reinforcing, ‘We’ve got you—and we’re on top of this.’” The pain management professor immediately jumped in and addressed his students, “I can’t agree more with the importance of assuring the patient— and easing the anxiety,” he stated emphatically.  “Chronic pain patients understand pain in ways we can’t because they live with it daily. They also know what it’s like to experience intractable pain and the terror involved when unable to  communicate—or the frustration of not being understood.” The students, professor, and I talked a bit more, and I watched them scramble to take notes and remember the importance of aggressive assurance for patients in pain.  

Later, the professor returned to the room and specifically asked to see me. As he detailed the plan his team implemented to help Gracie, my eyes filled with tears when he looked at me and quietly said, “Caregivers also respond well to aggressive assurance.”

From caring comes courage. —Lao Tzu

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A listener shared her frustration, weariness, and burnout after years of caring for her husband following a traumatic brain injury. At sixty-eight, she expressed growing concern regarding her abilities—and his diminishing ones.

“He’s got a colostomy, ileostomy, and a host of other physical issues requiring full-time care—and I’m just exhausted. His mind is sharp, but his body is severely impaired, and I’m conflicted about a long-term care facility.”

Listening to her “get it all out,” I shared: “It seems you’re nearing a decision point where his needs eclipse your efforts; you may be closer than you realize. Regardless, how about writing down what an appropriate long-term facility looks like for you and your husband? With that in mind, and given the waiting lists for so many facilities, you can seek the proper place together while you can still care for him. If the crisis moment arrives, you’ve already paved the road so that the transition is a bit smoother.”

As caregivers, we often must make decisions that benefit the whole unit—not just one person. The unit depends upon a capable caregiver, but fear, guilt, and obligation can hamper making the best possible decision in an impossible situation.

So many couples struggle with this dynamic, and there’s no easy path. Wedding vows discuss long-term care but not long-term care facilities. Yet leaning on a facility doesn’t equate to abandoning the vows; instead, it can help both parties better keep them. 

When you have collected all the facts and fears and made your decision, turn off all your fears and go ahead!

 —George S. Patton

The word "Sustainability" is used extensively in regards to climate and energy  - but what about for caregivers and those who seek to help caregivers?