Posted on

Denial as a Way of Life

This post describes, in part, the effects of a degenerative neurological condition called Huntington’s Disease. Any negative behavior on the part of my wife should be attributed to that condition. Any negative behavior on the part of myself should be attributed to my need for God’s ongoing grace.

If you would like to read our story from the beginning, you can start here: How We Got Here…

Another week past. Another week of watchfulness and (hyper) attentiveness. Another week of waiting for the “train to arrive.”

In the past, I have talked about how having a loved one with a terminal disease is like standing with them on a railroad track and watching the headlight of a train getting closer and closer. Well, to carry the metaphor further, the crossing guard arms are now down, the warning bells are dinging, and the train is blowing its horn.

This week we weighed Janet, and she is down another pound to an even 90 (or a bit under 41 kg). She is eating some, but not enough to maintain her weight – let alone gain any back. The “solution,” of course, is a feeding tube, or peg. However, Janet decided against that option years ago, and has that choice documented in her living will – along with a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) order.

There have been those, even in our own family, who have asked how I could “allow” that. Now there is a funny word to use in relation to Janet: allow. She has spent her entire life as an independent person doing what she believes is right, and there is every reason to believe that she will die the same way – doing what she believes is right.

But more to the point, even if I were so inclined as to override her long-held wishes (which, by the way, I am not) what would be my logical argument, my justification? There is none.

❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦

Once I was attending a caregivers conference and I asked how to help our son recognize the seriousness of his mother’s condition. I remember the session leader say,

“So he is in denial?”

To which I replied,

“Like a Pharaoh… ”

– a word play that I guess works better with an American southern accent where “denial” and “da Nile” are pronounced essentially the same.

When you start researching the topic of denial, the first thing you discover is that there is considerable disagreement, even among professionals, about the meaning, importance, and usefulness of denial.

For example, some point out that it is one of the first stages of grief and loss, and so has to be worked through on our way to the final goal of acceptance. Others see denial as a coping mechanism, a form of emotional hysteresis that helps people deal with things that are changing “too fast.” While still others see the term itself as being a way of judgmentally shaming a person into complying with our wishes.

And then there are the related issues, such as when denial takes the form of turning an inherited genetic disease into a “family secret.” But even here we hear people bloviating about “pros and cons” – though frankly I am still trying to find even one “pro.”

Finally, denial is also a lens through which you could view much of what I have written in the past 7 or 8 months. While my intent was to write about grieving, it is equally true that many of those early themes were also about coming to grips with reality and refusing to deny that things had fundamentally changed. To see what I mean, start with this link and, if you haven’t done it before, read all of our story.

From here, there are literally dozens of different directions that this conversation could take, but for now at least, I’ll concentrate on two that I see as being particularly significant for both caregivers and the ones that they are caring for:

Acceptance
The problem with acceptance is that many people think that they have come to accept the reality of what is happening in their lives, but are still living very much in denial. You see, acceptance isn’t just a mental exercise of intellectually recognizing that a given disease will be fatal – someday. It means accepting the reality of the negative consequences today – including those that seem too great to bear.

To begin with, accepting an unpleasant medical diagnosis can also mean admitting a weakness: a potentially bitter pill for someone who has prided themself on their independence and self reliance. Acceptance can also mean facing up to some big fears and scary symptoms.

For example, the list is long of HD patients who have been denigrated for apparent drunkenness, including Janet’s older brother John, who was accused of coming to his daughter’s wedding drunk. But luckily for him, Janet decided to not make her diagnosis a “Family Secret” (see below).

Moreover, many have an almost primal fear of people who are acting strangely or erratically – or of being someone who is acting strangely or erratically. In the same way, many people feel uncomfortable and even threatened by people that they can’t communicate with – whether due to disease or difference in language. We often have images in our mind of what “they” are like, and don’t want to be seen as being one of “them.”

Finally, there is the matter of “burdening” our loved ones. If you are ill, you likely do not want to think about your loved ones dealing with your decline and death.

Consequently, for all of these reasons – and more – we try to think of ways to hide what is going on. Unfortunately, hiding doesn’t work very well:

Hiding From Reality
The thing to remember when entering into this sort of conversation (either with yourself or someone else) is that there are no quick fixes, but rather a potentially long process digging through the layers of an emotional onion, or if you prefer, a parfait.

Family Secrets
While I will be discussing this matter in the context of chronic diseases – especially those for which either the disease, or the predisposition to contract the disease is hereditary – the following discussion would apply equally to any situation in which an individual or family decides to keep secrets including, but not limited to, sexual abuse, addiction, divorce, infidelity – even adoption.

For more information, try searching online for: “Why do families keep secrets?” What you will find will be enlightening, and occasionally disturbing.

As mentioned above, one of the first things that the “professionals” will tell you about family secrets is that we need to balance the pros and cons of keeping the secret. The problem is that while being open about the challenges that your family is facing may be uncomfortable or even painful, choosing to hide what is going on is truly toxic.

For example, my ex-wife and her new husband decided to attend a church that would not have welcomed them had the church known that she was divorced. To solve the “problem” imposed by the existence of the two children I had fathered, they simply changed the kids’ last names (for the sake of the church) to match their step-father’s. While this might have seemed like an easy solution to a problem, consider for a moment the day-to-day impact that it had on their family life.

Even leaving to one side the basic question of why anyone would want to belong to such an organization in the first place, there were many other ramifications to this one little secret. They couldn’t invite friends from church to school plays or sporting events because the friends might hear the kids being referred to by the “wrong” names. For the same reason, they also had to keep “church friends” separate from all their other acquaintances.

Likewise, when making prayer requests, or seeking counseling on even unrelated matters, they had to worry about whether they are saying too much or whether the request would give away the secret. And imagine the emotional burden of having to watch every word that came out of your mouth to make sure your story stayed consistent – and all that for the comparatively simple secret of a changed last name.

(By the way, in case you are curious, the secret was not kept successfully – my bad – and they were told to leave the church by the pastor.)

Now try to imagine what it is like to try and hide something like a chronic disease. While researching this post, I found this link from a few years ago about the stress of hiding Parkinson’s Disease.

While I understand that people have a variety of reasons for keeping quiet, I also understand that trying to hide the inevitable is the very definition of a quixotic quest. Additionally, when people do find out, you will still have to deal with all the same reactions – plus more. The two most common reactions are anger and disappointment.

  • “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were friends!”
  • “If I had known, I could have done more!”
  • etc.
  • etc.
  • etc.

I also understand the desire for privacy. In fact, as it applies to medical matters, the principle of privacy is (theoretically at least) enshrined in federal law here in the US. According to that law, we “own” our health status, and have the right to decide who else knows about it. But ethically, what happens to the right of privacy when the disease is a family matter? To make things very concrete, if Janet had been more “private,” her brother John might have gone to his grave A) not knowing he was sick, and B) with people thinking he was a drunk.

Still we need to acknowledge that having people know your secret is no guarantee of smooth sailing. There are always the twin problems of Stigma and Shame – which are really the same problem. The only difference between the two is who is doing the judging: Stigma is being judged by someone else and being found wanting. Shame is exactly the same thing except the judge is you.

Unfortunately, even in the 21st century, there are still way too many people who view chronic disease and other misfortunes in life in terms of whose “fault” it is. The people are still with us who asked Jesus why a man was blind, “…did he sin or was it one of his parents?” But in the final analysis, what difference does it really make? We should not stigmatize others, nor should we shame ourselves.

In Christ, Amen ☩

❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦

A prayer for when you are in denial…

“Blessed are You, Lord God, King of the Universe. It is right that I should at all times and in all circumstances bless You for the certainty that You offer. But today I want to bless you especially for standing by me when I am in denial about the direction that life is taking me. Give me the courage to face the future without flinching. Amen”

Posted on

Doing the Right Thing

This post describes, in part, the effects of a degenerative neurological condition called Huntington’s Disease. Any negative behavior on the part of my wife should be attributed to that condition. Any negative behavior on the part of myself should be attributed to my need for God’s ongoing grace.

If you would like to read our story from the beginning, you can start here: How We Got Here…

Got Janet outside a bit this week. She had to get her blood test redone for her thyroid meds. As it turns out, she has lost enough weight (she’s now down to 103 lbs) that her PCP has decided to reduce her dose from 60mg down to 30mg. By the way, for her thyroid she takes a natural product called Armour Thyroid.

“Oh Armour, you mean like the meat packing company?”

Yes, exactly like the meat packing company. The medication consists of desiccated and prepared porcine (pig) thyroid glands. The more common alternative is the synthetic hormone levothyroxine (often sold under the brand name Synthroid). Unfortunately, this synthetic hormone works slightly differently and Janet does not tolerate it well. Over the years we have had to do a lot to maintain her supply. At one point, the government tried to shut down production of the prepared tablets by issuing a total recall for unknown reasons. In response, we had to go to a “compounding pharmacy” that would buy the medication in bulk from the manufacturer and make up capsules for Janet to take. Of course, that source wasn’t covered by our insurance…

But back to this week. It did Janet a world of good for her to get out. After getting the blood draw done, we had a bit of shopping to do, and although all she did was sit in the car, it was like a tonic for her. She was able to see people and feel the warmth of the sun on her face. Sometimes doing things that make you feel healthy are more important than blindly conforming to someone else’s vision of what it means to be “safe.”

Unfortunately, that euphoria didn’t last and a couple days later I almost had to bring her to the hospital due to suicidal ideation. We now have two security cameras (with motion detection) watching her, and she has a new medical alert bracelet so she can call for help – and all the sharp silverware and cutlery is up, out of her reach.

❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦

This week, I have been thinking a lot about an oft-told myth that to avoid trouble with others all it takes is do what is right and tell the truth. Thanks to the drama being played out every night on the evening news, we can see how tragically wrong-headed that idea is. Telling the truth is just as likely to get you stoned as it is to get you praised. And a big reason for this tragedy is that the standard of public discourse today seems to be, increasingly, questions in the form of the old joke:

“So, are you still beating your wife?”

In other words, before you have even opened your mouth, the inquisitor (and I use that word deliberately) has already decided you are guilty. The only matter left to determine is, of what?

Now, it’s one thing if all you have at stake is your personal comfort, livelihood, or freedom. But what happens if you are a caregiver for someone who is dependent upon you? In that situation, things get a lot more complicated. For example, you can’t simply say, “…go along, to get along…” because “getting along” might mean doing or submitting to something that is harmful to the one(s) for whom you are caring. However, if you resist too much and end up in jail for your “crimes” – like a father who was recently arrested for playing catch with his daughter in an empty park – who takes care of your loved one then?

If you are feeling confused and hopeless right now, know that those feelings are by design. You are experiencing exactly what many in power today (as well as the would-be power-brokers) want you to feel. Their goal is to fill your mind with so much doubt and fear that you are willing to be led by anyone proclaiming that they can see the way out of our current troubles. Of course, the problem with these “solutions” is that the people handing them out only provide advice that is going to benefit themselves, with the result that you, your loved one, and your real needs are left twisting in the wind.

Today, there are people offering solutions from a mad variety of political, sociological, and religious positions. However, the choice between them often boils down to who can give out the most “goodies” – and it matters little whether the advisor is offering money, power, enlightenment, or Heaven. Rarely, if ever, do we hear the argument made about which of these myriad of options is true.

In the past, there was a method for identifying what was true that revolved around a “marketplace of ideas.” The concept was that if people openly and honestly discussed questions, the truth would win out because it would be the only answer that satisfied reality. But for this competition of ideas to reach the desired goal, there are two obvious prerequisites: First, as the English poet and philosopher John Milton stated, there must be a “free, transparent public discourse.” Second, the participants in the discourse have to agree that there is such a thing as truth.

Unfortunately, today we fail on both counts. Increasingly, manipulators are either making certain ideas unacceptable by fiat at the outset, or are redefining phrases to make the accurate expression of certain ideas impossible. For example, you can’t have a serious discourse about “equality” if the person you are talking with has redefined the term as a racist “code word.” In either case, the goal is to control and regulate discourse so that only certain ideas can be expressed – and no dissent is allowed.

Likewise, if the manipulators are going to control the discourse, they can’t allow themselves to be embarrassed when one of their ideas bumps into reality. So they simultaneously give everyone the power to define what is real for themselves in the form of a personal reality that can’t be questioned.

Consequently, when all is said and done, the once-vaunted marketplace of ideas has become little more than a philosophical smorgasbord from which one can pick and choose any concept that strikes their fancy:

“Yes waiter, I would like the Existentialist Blue Plate Special with a small order of Religiosity on the side. Oh but hold the Libertarianism, it gives me gas…”

And if you happen to believe two contradictory ideas, no problem. What’s a little cognitive dissonance between friends?

Now if life is going along pretty well, you might be able to get by with this sort of intellectual dishonesty. But if you are suffering from a chronic disease, or are caring for someone who is, you don’t have time for such mind games. If, as in my case, your wife is dying, that is a hard, uncompromising reality that demands attention. And it matters not a whit whether you agree with the diagnosis. CAG counts trump opinions. It is an example of what I call True truth and a firm grasp of this truth is one of the things that you need in order to deal with the situation I outlined above.

The second thing you need is confidence that you aren’t in this struggle alone, but this conversation needs to be bigger than just how to obtain effective protection from the, “…slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” Rather we need to see all our actions in the world as part of a process in which we are just one part. (For extra credit this week, contemplate the phrase that I didn’t include in that last sentence. I didn’t say, “small part.”) But if I am just a part, who is orchestrating the whole? I would assert it is The One whose very being defines the fundamentally True truth that is the basis for the reality in which we live. Here are three aspects of the support that we can expect:

First, God has redeemed my past. Unlike the opinion commonly expressed by the mob, I don’t have to be the result of an immaculate conception. In fact, God has a habit of using people with “a past,” as folks used to say. While the perfect, sinless people that are so common today would be tearing down their statues, God says, “That’s okay. We can fix that flaw and We’ll turn it into something beautiful.” Note that in the end, the resulting life is not as it was before – it’s better.

Second, to complete the work of redemption, God is walking with me in the present. And yes, it often isn’t pretty, but we can be confident that it will all work out because, unlike me, God is totally committed to the perfect end result. Consequently, whatever you or your loved one must endure in order to do what is right, it will move you towards the ultimate goal.

Third, God is going before me into the future. It may seem unfortunate, but the simple fact is that you and I can’t see even one second into the future with absolute certainty. As a result, we are often taken by surprise by what happens next. However, for God, all of human history is like a vast tableau that He organizes and structures for our benefit. However, this Divine Work isn’t like a movie I saw once where Greek gods were playing chess with people’s lives. God is not sitting uninvolved is some far-off heaven. Remember, He is “Emmanuel,” God with us.

So, in the end, we see that while the proper course of action may not be easy, it is really very, very simple. Truth matters. Right matters. So tell the truth and do the right thing.

In Christ, Amen ☩

❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦   ❦

A prayer for when you are feeling confused and hopeless…

“Blessed are You, Lord God, King of the Universe. It is right that I should at all times and in all circumstances bless You for the certainty of who You are. But today I want to bless You especially for not being silent in the world today. Thank you for going before me, walking with me, and protecting me. Amen”

Posted on

Which Way is Up? (Part 2)

This post describes, in part, the effects of a degenerative neurological condition called Huntington’s Disease. Any negative behavior on the part of my wife should be attributed to that condition. Any negative behavior on the part of myself should be attributed to my need for God’s ongoing grace.

This week has been hard. The new medication is helping a bit with Janet’s chorea and she is sleeping like a baby every night. However, other issues are continuing to worsen. The anger has been much more pronounced and she is very demanding in terms of what to do and the order in which to do it. Our daughter Frannie, understands that when Mom changes her mind and gets angry, that it is the HD. But on some level, she doesn’t care anymore. She just wants Mom to hear her and believe what she says. For myself, everything that I hear about on the news seems in a lot of ways be our home dynamic playing out on the world stage.

It occurred to me that maybe all the news readers have HD, or Alzheimer’s or something and that is why they can never get the stories right. But no, that’s crazy, right?

A long time ago (or at least what feels like a long time ago) my second post to this blog was titled, “Which Way is Up?”. That post was supposed to be about some of the disorienting changes that took place in our lives after Janet got her diagnosis. Although it started off that way, the post quickly developed a mind of its own and wandered off in another direction – which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It did, however, leave this topic unresolved and recently I have seen a lot of newbies on the support forums who are struggling with this transition. Consequently, I’m circling back to give a little more of a voice to this early time in our HD journey.

After Janet got her diagnosis, we moved back to Ohio pretty quickly so her first real HD appointment was going to the Center of Excellence at the University of Ohio Medical Center. During that first appointment we understandably had hundreds of questions about the disease and the sort of care that would be needed. So someone advised that a great way to get our questions answered would be to attend a local support group meeting, and we arranged to go to the next one. Unfortunately, no one spoke to us to prepare us for the meeting, or help us to set our expectations.

Their group at that time had a couple late-stage patients attending. Needless to say, we were totally unprepared for what we saw, and we went home terrified – each for our own reasons. At that time Janet’s major physical symptom was that her feet were twitching at night. She couldn’t imagine needing to be strapped into a wheelchair so her convulsions wouldn’t throw her out if it. For myself, I had no idea how to care for someone with that level of need.

When, a few years later, we had gathered enough courage to attend another meeting – this time in Texas – we were better prepared and understood things much better. First, we understood that everyone with HD is on their own journey. Some have extreme chorea, some have hardly any. Some slowly forget everything about their previous life and drift off into a kind of non-being, some become so emotionally disturbed that they must be committed to an asylum. Still many things are common for most, like anger or perseveration.

Which, by the way, brings up another good point. If you are a caregiver for someone with HD you will be learning a new language. I know your neurologist appears to speak the same language you do, but in fact they are speaking a specialized dialect called “doctor”. So you will be learning a lot of new words – like perseveration. Over the coming years, you will also be earning a minimal degree in nursing as you learn to deal with your loved one’s daily medical and personal care needs. And that’s to say nothing of all of what you will learn about how the medical systems in your country work, which it should be no surprise, is very different from the way the politicians tell us they work.

My advice? Get a notebook and keep notes of everything you hear and learn. There will be a test on it later.

During this time, I also learned the real meaning of the term “degenerative”. It means that often today, no matter how bad it may be, today may be the best day that Janet will have for the rest of her life. I also learned that “degenerative” can be a kind of perverse blessing in that as Janet slowly grew worse and worse, I had the time to grow up and grow into my new role. If you are the caregiver, there will be days when you want to give up and surrender or simply give in to the anger, depression and anxiety. While I could tell you to not give in because it doesn’t work, I won’t bother because everyone does from time to time – or they do until they learn for themselves that it doesn’t work.

So does anything help? Yes. Prayer (constant and unending), counselling (to help you learn), fellowship (to gain perspective) and medications (to get you through the rough patches) – these can all help.

The thing that has been the hardest for me to remember is that who Janet and I were 12 years ago, is gone. But as bad as it has been for me to watch what Janet has gone through, I can’t begin to imagine the horror of being her, and everyday feeling some piece of who you are, slip away through your fingers.

When Janet and I first got married, there were many things that I didn’t understand about Janet’s personality. However, Janet came from an abusive home environment so I thought that eventually Janet would come to learn that in this relationship, at least, she was valued and treasured. But that never happened. I learned instead about Huntington’s Disease, and I learned that her father wasn’t just abusive, he was sick. Finally, I learned that Janet had the same illness, and many of the same symptoms.

So, I guess, I have made peace with the way things are. Or at least I have made peace to the degree that peace is possible. How does one ever make peace with seeing the one you love disappearing before your very eyes, yet while their body continues to exist. I have heard that this process is called “Ambiguous Loss” because your loved one is gone, but then again, they aren’t. One of the things that I have consistently tried to express throughout this blog, is that there is no going back. Who you were and who they were, no longer exists.

Given all this doom and gloom, there are those around me who, like Job’s “friends”, seem to suggest that I should just curse God and die. In addition, there are those that claim that HD is unequivocal proof that God does not exist, or if He does exist he is in reality a demon. But I reject both arguments. I reject them because, as I’ve explained before in the blog, they start from faulty assumptions about the world. But just as important, while there are many dark places where I am traveling right now, there are also many bright spots. While some of those bright spots are the many wonderful programs and facilities that are available to support you and your loved one, for me though the brightest spots are always the people. On the support forums, God has gathered together many, many really good people. For example, there are people from the USA, the UK, Australia and Italy that I have never met face to face, but who, if it came right down to it, I would nevertheless trust with my life. In addition, the internet is global in scope so if you have a problem, someone is always awake, no matter what the local time is for you.

So there is my message for the newcomers: have faith, learn as much as you can, don’t stress over letting go of things that you can’t hang onto and, to quote the line from the play, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, “Fasten your seat belts. You’re in for a bumpy ride.”

In Christ, Amen ☩

A prayer for when you are new, confused and afraid…

“Blessed are You, Lord God, King of the Universe. It is right that I should at all times and in all circumstances bless You for Your love and presence. But today I want to bless you especially for not abandoning the world that you created perfect, but which, today, has so many problems. Thank you for living among us as “Emmanuel”. Thank you for using me to help heal the brokenness in this world. Show me the way forward. Amen”

Posted on

Who me, an Advocate?

This post describes, in part, the effects of a degenerative neurological condition called Huntington’s Disease. Any negative behavior on the part of my wife should be attributed to that condition. Any negative behavior on the part of myself should be attributed to my need for God’s ongoing grace.

Last Sunday, I spent a chunk of the afternoon on messenger talking with my sister — nothing unusual there. What we talked about was the post that went live on the blog that morning, which if you haven’t read it yet, can be found here. The point of the conversation was the prayer. Margie was curious about whether I intended it to be purely personal, or would it apply to everyone.

I think that part of the matter might have been my usage of the word “advocate” which I realize, in retrospect, is a word that is typically used to communicate very specific and formalized responsibilities. Derived from a Latin root that is essentially a translation of the Greek word παράκλητος (paráklētos) the word refers to someone that is called, or summoned to stand beside you for support — often in a legal sense. For Christians, the most well-known use of this word is when Jesus used it to describe the coming Holy Spirit.

But I want to step back for a moment and think about it from a slightly different perspective. For my starting point, I’ll take a famous quote from the Shakespearean play Twelfth Night:

“Some are born great, some become great, and some
have greatness thrust upon them.”

It struck me that if you replace the words “great” and “greatness” with “advocates” and “advocacy”, the result is a pretty good description of the core of what it means to be an advocate.

“Some are born advocates, …” Most of us have known people that seemingly from the time they were born, realized that their place in the world was to stand by others and speak for them. We typically think of these folks in terms of being social workers, lawyers, or perhaps members of the clergy. But I would assert that there is another side of advocacy. Sometimes words are not enough. Sometimes actions, even strong actions, are required to “stand by” another.

Consequently, advocates are sometimes seen wearing flak jackets under desert brown or blue uniforms. Sometimes, to do their work, advocates have to don green flight suits and prepare to fight a war that is unthinkable, with the goal that it remains unthinkable. Sometimes advocates rush to be the first to respond to a tragedy so they can perhaps snatch some remnant of life from the jaws of death. Advocacy is not just about supportive words…

“…some become advocates, …” Here, we need to consider the biblical story of the Good Samaritan. We have no idea of what was going on inside the Samaritan’s head when he saw the man beaten by thieves and left for dead. Clearly, he could have crossed over to the other side of the road, like the religious men who had come by before him had done, and just kept going.

Instead though, Jesus says that he “took pity on” the man who had been attacked by robbers and so, in that moment, chose to become his advocate. A choice, by the way, that cost him time and money, no doubt disrupted the day he had planned for himself and could even have put him in added danger as the robbers might have still been in the neighborhood. Moreover, he happily took on the responsibility to see the job through to the end by making arrangements for settling any subsequent debts when he returned: more time, more money, more inconvenience.

“…and some have advocacy thrust upon them.” I want to look at this last situation in a bit more detail because it should feel familiar to anyone that is a caregiver to someone with a chronic disease. I don’t know about you, but nobody ever asked me if I wanted this job. Nobody ever said, “Your wife is going to get this horrible disease. Oh, and by the way, you get to watch her die a little more every day. So, if you could help out, that would be grea‑a‑a‑a‑t.”

The job that gets handed to a caregiver is massive, uncomfortable, long and so dirty that even Mike Rowe would think twice about taking it on. And it’s certainly not fair that we have to do these kinds of jobs alone or with too little support from families and friends — or even adequate training for what we need to do. So I would assume that we are in agreement that the life of a caregiver largely sucks. So what do we do? The truth is, the sun will come up tomorrow and we will have to do something.

A number of years ago, I went to a seminar where the leader called up to the front someone from the audience and held out two ice cream cones: one vanilla, one chocolate. He then instructed the person to choose one. The participant got the ice cream they picked and returned to their seat happy. The leader now repeated the exercise with a different volunteer, but this time only held up the one remaining ice cream cone, but he repeated the same instruction: “Choose one.” The result was a spirited conversation (read: argument) about the nature of choosing.

The point of the exercise was to illustrate how people have no problem choosing if they see alternatives, as when they can choose between vanilla or chocolate. However, problems arise when only one flavor is available. We don’t see that as a choice. Rather we devalue it as simply being all that’s left. Consequently, we derive no joy from what we do have, after all who gets excited about making do with the leftovers. Moreover, we can begin to feel pretty resentful and angry toward those enjoying what we don’t have, or who we imagine are enjoying what we don’t have. I can remember nights driving home from work obsessing about the smiling people in the cars around me and resenting the happy homes that I imagined they were returning to.

In the movie “The Passion of Christ” there is a powerful moment when Jesus, beaten and abused, embraced His cross with quivering hands as though it were the most precious possession He had in the world – which of course, it was. At that point, there were no options left available to Him. There was no choice to “go to the cross” or …

All that was left was the cross, and as an example to us Jesus chose it, embraced it, and created from it the best possible Good News.

I hope that you see where I’m going with this unfortunately autobiographical tale: As caregivers, we can easily become trapped in a sense of hopelessness that leads us to feel angry and resentful of those around us who are living “normal” lives. That anger and resentment, in turn, bears fruit in the form of a bitterness that convinces us that, in reality, we are the real victims of this disease, not the person dying. And this victimhood, is the final link in a vicious loop that feeds on itself, solves nothing and makes everyone involved in the situation more miserable by making us even more angry and more resentful.

The only way to break out of this death spiral — I call it that because it will kill you — is to choose the situations in our lives in which there are no options (in biblical terms, “our cross”). When in this way we not only, take up our cross, but truly embrace it, we discover that a joyously new and miraculous possibility emerges: The possibility of regaining just a tiny bit of that perfect Eden experience where life wasn’t supposed to be governed by choices between good and evil, right and wrong, or even vanilla and chocolate. We begin to realize the possibility of living our life of service immersed in and infused with the love of God. We can discover that in this midst of this broken, fallen world, God can create for us a holy place where truly, it is all good…

In Christ, Amen ☩

A prayer for when you’re out of options…

“Blessed are You, Lord God, King of the Universe. It is right that I should at all times and in all circumstances bless You for the bounty of Your love. But today, I especially want to bless you for making my gift of standing up for others into a way for me to experience a foretaste of Heaven. Please give me eyes to see my own calling, and the strength to complete what you have set before me. Amen”