I just won't grow old...

Last week the board of our local hospital and nursing home announced that they are closing the nursing home.  The primary reasons given were economical -- on the national and state levels.  It was a very difficult decision for them to make, they said.  But for the future of the hospital, it was necessary.

There are currently 62 residents who call this particular location "home."  One of those individuals is my father-in-law.  As he slipped further and further into dementia, my mother-in-law continued to take care of him.  Never have I witnessed such devotion or sacrifice in another individual as I have in my mother-in-law.  She literally gave all she had to this man, her beloved husband.  When she simply could not do it all herself, family members and caregivers helped.  Still she gave.  She gave until she could give no more, until her husband needed a level of care that could no longer be provided at home.  And so, finally, he became a resident of this nursing home.  She could at least rest in the fact that she did everything she could -- now he was at a different "home," but he was home.  He was comfortable, and that brought her great comfort.

I sat at her kitchen table last weekend with other family members as she spoke of her pain and frustration at the closing of his "home."  While my heart broke with hers over the news, I was most disturbed by one particular comment she made.  "No one cares what I think.  I'm just an old person."  

Yesterday I encountered another elderly woman in our community and I listened to her as she spoke of the closing.  She made a comment that disturbed me even more than what my mother-in-law said.  "There is no one left to trust anymore.  I am afraid."


On my way back from North Carolina a few weeks ago I was waiting at a crowded gate in the Charlotte airport.  An elderly couple walked up. Without hesitation, a young, executive-type 20-something man jumped to his feet and motioned for them to sit down.   It seemed like an instinct for him.  As if royalty had walked into the room and the only appropriate response was to rise and give them his seat.  I wanted to run over to this guy and tell him how proud I was of his action, but I feared that he would see this as patronizing -- so I just smiled, and thanked God for him, and prayed that my children would be like him. 

Life presents us with many choices.  Some are of little consequence and carry little or no moral or spiritual value. What shirt should I wear today?  What should I eat for lunch?   Other choices bear greater weight, affecting our families and friends. 

 

And some choices go far beyond our personal circle of loved ones.  Some affect other families, entire communities, and beyond.  Often these decisions are made in board rooms, conference rooms, capital buildings, chambers, and oval offices.  Often these decisions carry a great deal of weight - and have significant moral and spiritual value.  

I understand that these are difficult economic times for our state, our nation, and our world.  But we certainly didn't get here overnight.  Collectively, WE made decisions over the course of years and years.  Those decisions impact what is happening today.  We can blame "government." We can blame "the economic situation."  Except that WE are the government.  The government is comprised of PEOPLE.  

 

There's a phrase that keeps coming back to me.  It's nothing overly profound, but it HAS given me a different perspective on this journey of faith I'm traveling.

It is possible for good people to make a poor decision.

Another one that is closely related,

  Good people can disagree about what is the "right" decision.

God has used these simple insights to remind me that I cannot just sit back and be silent.  This extremely "non-confrontational, avoid conflict at any cost" person that I am needs to change.  I am responsible.  He is expecting ME to be a voice for Him -- for those who feel they have no voice -- for those who feel afraid -- for those who believe there is no one who is trustworthy anymore.

This post is a start.

 

God's heart is for the poor, the neglected, the helpless, the weak.  Scripture overwhelming affirms this truth.  God's heart is for the 62 residents of that nursing home, and for the millions of other older Americans who are being overlooked by our funding choices -- as a nation, as a state, and as a small community.






Hubert Humprey once said:

"The moral test of government is how that government treats those who are in the dawn of life, the children; those who are in the twilight of life, the elderly; and those who are in the shadows of life, the sick, the needy and the handicapped."

Most of us will grow old.  And one day, most of us will be at the mercy of others to decide our fate.  But for now, I'm praying for the courage -- and the humility -- to seek after God's heart, wherever that leads me.  To rise in the presence of those who are older than me and give them the honor they so richly deserve.

I am here, we all are here,  in large part because of the faithfulness and sacrifice of those who came before us.  We trusted them, and they delivered.  Their lack of trust in us should not only grieve us.  It should compel us to action.