Number 1 in a four part series.
 
Today begins a four part series on the difficulties of Alzheimer's and how to help those dealing with it, both patient and caregiver alike.  I believe these might also be helpful for those dealing with dementia patients as well. 
Please notice:  I will not be approaching these as a professional on any level, but simply as someone who has seen it up close and who also has friends dealing with it.  I will not be giving medical advice beyond what the doctors have told me and my family and friends.  This is strictly practical information from those who have dealt with it firsthand, information that I hope will be a true service in helping and encouraging others. I also hope it will help us all to avoid saying and doing something hurtful, even with the best intentions.
            My father developed dementia gradually over the last twelve years of his life.  It was hard to watch a highly intelligent and competent man become as dependent as a child, and especially to see him forget who his wife of sixty-four years was, even as she patiently waited on him day after day.  I have a close friend whose husband is now traveling down the road of Alzheimer's.  I see the disease taking more of him every time I read one of her letters, and watch as she bravely faces the unknown every day.  These two, and others I have known, are my inspirations, and the primary source of the things I will write in this series.
            Please, if you are facing, or have faced, similar challenges yourself and have more to add, feel free to comment on the bottom of every article so that others can learn from you as well. It is better to put it on the article than on the Facebook link because it will eventually reach more people, especially as others discover it in the future from an internet search. As many problems as it might cause, one real benefit of the internet is reaching more people.  Please help me do that. 
            Too many times I have stood frozen in my tracks, not knowing what to do and totally unable to think as something happened to someone close to my heart or simply standing nearby, and then wished for days afterward I had known how to act and what to do, mentally flailing myself for being so clueless.  Let's see if we can help one another avoid that. 
            This is merely an introductory article.  The remaining three articles will run the next three days.
 
We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves.  (Rom 15:1).
 
Dene Ward

I have about given up trying to explain to people that your power point doesn't mean a thing if it isn't easily read.  As a visually impaired person, I can tell you exactly what can and can't be seen.  Too many times it seems that people want it to be "pretty" and whether it can be read or not is beside the point.  At the risk of sounding dumb may I ask, "Huh?"
            Color is the first thing.  It absolutely floors me that Bausch and Lomb, the company that makes products for visually impaired people, insists on printing coupons with the expiration date printed in white letters on a pastel background.  There is no better way to make the letters completely disappear, except to never put them on there in the first place.  There must be a stark contrast for us to see what's there, and color tends to make it worse.  Gray letters on white is another difficult combination.  I find myself thinking they really don't care about us after all, or maybe they just don't want us to use their coupons so they will make more money.  Neither option is good PR.
            Contrast is not always simple either.  Over and over I will see an ad on television with nice dark letters in the middle of the screen, but have to turn aside quickly or cover my eyes because the background is a blinding white.  Even when I can stand the white background, it still spills over onto the letters and nearly obliterates them.  Far better a black background with white letters so the background glare is minimal, as on this blog.  If you just can't make yourself use white on black, at least make the white background something besides pure, blinding white, like ivory or cream.  Unless you don't care whether people can actually read it or not.
            I was sitting in a doctor's office last week with my husband, not an eye doctor this time so it was not quite so ironic when I looked at the sign on the wall across from where we sat and couldn't read it.  Sometimes if I look long enough I can figure words out by their shape and the context.  (Another lesson, don't make the print as small as you think you can—err on the side of too large.)  As usual someone decided to get pretty.  The letters were a nice dark print on a muted white—until it reached the punchline, the part they really wanted you to see.  At that point, the words were printed pale aqua on white.  We had a bit of a wait, so I kept working at it and finally came up with this, based more on how the words were shaped because that is all I could really see of that "important" phrase:
            "Sleep apnea is causing your husband's hot baked potato."
            Okay, so obviously that was wrong.  There was no context at all that I could imagine which included potatoes with apnea.  So I kept working at it.  About fifteen minutes later, based upon my own knowledge of sleep apnea (Keith has it) and what it causes, I realized that "hot baked potato" was actually "high blood pressure."  About then, the neurologist finally arrived and I never did read the rest of the sign.  Good thing I didn't need to.
            I believe that some of us have similar problems with the Bible.  We are so certain that it's simple—it is—that we forget that it is also deep, that we can study the same parts for years and still discover new things.  You must work at it to get it all.  But for many it's just too much trouble.  "Why do we have to know all this stuff anyway?" which can also be taken as, "Why do I have to learn anything else about God?  I'm saved and that's all that counts."  Try that on your spouse sometime.  "Why do I need to know anything else about you?  We're married and that's all that counts."  I don't think so.
            Proverbs 10:23 is enlightening here.  Doing wickedness is like sport to a fool, and so is wisdom to a man of understanding.
            Did you catch that?  If you are wise, that is, if you are not a fool, you find pleasure in learning.  And learning about God and His Word should be the greatest pleasure you can imagine.  When we eagerly make time for anything else, even if it isn't wickedness, but neglect our Bible study, we are not exactly the sharpest pencil in the box ("wise").
            God made it as easy as He could—He did not print white letters on a pastel background.  It takes Divine effort to save so many copies of a manuscript for thousands of years and have it be obvious that it is indeed still correct and in some way miraculous, whether anyone else wants to believe that or not.  Now it's time for a little effort from us, a little sacrifice in time, a little deep thinking instead of just rattling off catch-phrases and thinking that makes me holy and righteous. 
            God didn't count on us trying to suss out the shape of the words; He made it plain to see.  If we won't do our part, it isn't just laziness, it's rejection of Him and His Word, and it shows a whole lot more about us than we seem to realize.  Please show Him that you do care about something besides this transient world and its carnal pleasures.  Show Him that you want to know more about Him and to develop a deep and lasting relationship with a Father who cares so much that you won't find a hot baked potato when what you really need is His Blessed Presence.
 
Hear the word of Jehovah, you children of Israel; for Jehovah has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor goodness, nor knowledge of God in the land…My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge: because you have rejected knowledge, I will also reject you…seeing you have forgotten the law of your God, I also will forget your children.  Hos 4:1,6
 
Dene Ward

Another checkup, another new disorder.  I did not realize there were so many things that could go wrong with an eyeball.  Remember freshman biology in high school?  The model of the eye sat up on its white plastic pedestal stand, and you could lift off the layers and see the various parts of the eye:  the cornea, the pupil, the iris, and the retina.  You might see the optic nerve running off from the back, and if you had a particularly diligent teacher you might hear the words sclera (eyeball skin) and vitreous humor (eyeball fluid), but that was it.  That is what we were all taught an eyeball was made up of.  Let me tell you, that is not even half of it!
              My knowledge has come a long way in the past 17 years, but once again I have learned something new, something else that can go wrong.  I won't trouble you with the four word disorder or describe it.  Here is the frightening thing:  within five years I could need a cornea transplant to save the eye.  HOWEVER, in all caps, italicized, and underlined, the so-called easy cure is not for me.  All these other problems I have make me a horrible candidate for that surgery—unless there is just no other choice.  And should that be the case, the complications may very well cost me the eye.
              My vision may now have a real, concrete time limit.  So what do I do in the meantime?  Of course I pray.  That is obvious.  I have already had one timely "coincidence" save my vision for a while longer.  God can certainly make that happen again.  But in the words of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, "Even if he doesn't…" how shall I prepare myself for the days of darkness ahead of me?
              Instead of making this a totally self-absorbed post, let's consider your days of darkness, too, because it does not have to be blindness we are talking about here.  What is troubling you?  What lies ahead in your life that either might come or definitely will come, all things being equal?  What should any of us do to prepare for those frightening times?
              Let us fill our minds with the good.  Are you reading his Word on a daily basis, not just a minimal chapter a day, but a good hour of real study time?  Are you spending time with brothers and sisters in worship, in study together, in encouragement and exhortation?  Have you ever taken advantage of the extra studies that take place during the week, both at the building and in homes?
              Do you follow the admonition of Paul?  Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. The things which ye both learned and received and heard and saw in me, these things do: and the God of peace shall be with you. (Phil 4:8-9)
             Or do you spend more time on Facebook, surfing the web, playing video games, watching mindless or, worse, worldly entertainment, or any number of other time-wasters that are using up the precious time you have left?  How are you preparing for the moment when all you will have due to a disability or an illness or other circumstance is what you have stored in your heart?
              The days of darkness will come, sooner or later, for all of us.  What will see you through it?
 
For it is you who light my lamp; the LORD my God lightens my darkness. (Ps 18:28).
 
Dene Ward

On June 13, 2005, I was the Alpha patient, the first patient to receive a brand new type of intraocular lens that had not even been approved by the FDA.  I have several rare eye conditions and it was the only hope of saving my vision.

From my journal:
June 13, 2005, Monday—This is the big day.  “Terrified” pretty well says it all.  We began it with a prayer and that prayer continued on silently through the day for both of us. 

              We arrived early, expecting a wait, but they took me in early, after I signed some special consent forms upstairs.  Since the FDA had not approved this, “you will have to sign your life away,” the doctor told me, but what choice did I have?  I signed page after page, and then initialed some handwritten lines added up along the side of the form in the margin.  One of them said, “I understand that no one knows how this material will interact with human tissue.”  Then they sent me back downstairs to wait for pre-op. 

               We shared a long hug when they called my name.  Most folks were there for simple cataract surgery so I am sure that no one understood why we made such a big deal out of this, but it was possible that I would never see Keith out of that eye again, or the other one for much longer either.    
As usual with me, it took several tries to get an IV, along with a lot of pain and blood. 

               “You are a real challenge.”  First try, first bandage. 

            “Yep, you’re gonna be a REEEEAL challenge.”  Second try, second bandage.

              “Oh, I’m so sorry.”  Third try, third bandage.  “Let me go get the resident expert.”  She must have been, because she got it first try.

             They told me I would be in a “twilight sleep," that I would be able to respond but wouldn’t care and wouldn’t remember.  Famous last words.  I remember everything, including everything the doctor said as he worked.  Especially after they threw that sheet over my face.  The claustrophobia came in with a rush.  “You have oxygen, Mrs. Ward, you can breathe.”  Right.  Sure.  Someone must have accidentally turned it off. 

               Then the blue kaleidoscope show started, and at least I was no longer staring at what I knew must have been an inch thick, non-porous, air-tight wrap over my whole body.
 
             “We have full angle closure.”  Yikes.  Not good.  Maybe I should not have done so much research—I know too much.

              “Iris prolapse,” I heard next.  What?  This is what they said would abort the surgery, but Dr Osher kept going.

              “This is not small enough.  Give me another muscle hook.”  Now that’s not a pleasant thought. 

              “That’s too big.  Give me a smaller one.  No, not that one.  It’s still too big.  I want the (some number).” 

              Tug, tug. “I can’t get it.”  Tug, tug.  “Let me try the (some instrument).”  Tug, tug.  “Got it.”  Thank goodness, I was about ready to yank it out myself, whatever it was.

              “Now it’s time to make some decisions.”  Now?  What does he mean "now?"  Isn’t this a little late?

              “This is difficult.”  Amen.

              “Thank you, Lord.”  It was not the last time the doctor thanked God, nor me either.

              Assorted technical stuff and lots of video off, video on for the next two hours.

              “I’ve got Healon 5 (?) behind the lens.  (Flush, flush, flush).  This may be obsessive but I can’t leave it or she’ll have a capsular blockage.  I’m not going to use this on the other eye.  (Response:  Not at all?)  Can’t risk it.”

              “I’m putting in enough drops to float the Queen Mary.” 
After nearly three hours under that sheet, the light show stopped.

              I cannot see a thing with the right eye.  “Your eye will stay shut because of the anesthesia till sometime tonight.”  That explains that.  I did not even realize it was shut.

                My blood pressure is 170/98.  Terror will do that to you.
 
The things that go through your mind during a time like that always seem ridiculous when it's all over, but near-hysteria is another product of terror.  I think hearing everything he said, especially when he became agitated because things were not going well, made it worse.  He may have thought I was calm merely because I never uttered a sound until he asked a question, but I was just too petrified to move.
 
             Look through that again.  The thing he said that I remember best was, "Now it's time to make some decisions."  That came closest to making me lose it.  Isn't the middle of a first ever surgery a little late to be making decisions?  I learned later what he really meant.  This man was as ready for this surgery as he could be, staying late several evenings with a full surgical team to practice on pig eyes before he ever touched me.  He knew exactly what tools to use and the course of the procedure.  What he did not know, was how my 15 mm nanophthalmic eye would react when he placed the 50 diopter prismatic IOL inside it, and what he might have to do if something unexpected happened—like full angle closure or an iris prolapse.  He did not know how, or even if, I would be able to see afterward.  He very carefully explained that in clear, no-nonsense language the day before.  Yes, he was as ready as he could be.  There was nothing slapdash, hit-or-miss about it.  And due to all that preparation, he succeeded in saving my eyes for a while longer, accomplishing the same near-miraculous feat six months later with the left eye.

              How well do you plan for the major trials of your life?  That is exactly what each temptation is—just like a major and very dangerous surgery.  No, you cannot know exactly when it will happen.  No, you cannot know exactly how Satan will come at you.  But do you have a plan in place for defeating him?  Are you building a fortress around your soul with prayer, Bible study, and the fellowship of brothers and sisters who can help?  "If this temptation comes, this is what I will do," and then work on those very things.  Have you planned which passages to read, which hymns to sing, what words to pray, or who to call for encouragement?  Or are you going into major surgery with an unlicensed surgeon who flunked his anatomy test—are you counting on an unprepared you and only you?  I had a doctor who is considered one of the top five eye surgeons in the world and even he practiced!

              When the actual trial comes, it will hit you hard and fast and it will be far worse than you ever imagined it could be.  But how much worse will it be if you are not even a little prepared?  When you do not prepare to win, you have prepared yourself to fail.

              NOW is the time to make some decisions.  If you think you can just sit back and start operating and everything will be fine, you will lose your patient at the outset—and that patient is YOU!
 
For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works. (Titus 2:11-14).
 
Dene Ward

[This was written a few years ago after a serious surgery with even more serious complications.  Just so you have the proper context…]
 
              When I was little and listened to the sick list at church, no matter where we went, there was always someone who was “chronically ill.”   All that meant to me was they were never at church.  I couldn’t fathom an illness that never got any better, that gave you good days and bad days, that made you careful not to “overdo” because of the adverse effects that might have on you.  Now I understand, and wish I didn’t.

             I no longer have any social life--my doctor is my social life.  I see more of him than any of my brothers and sisters in the Lord.  I talk on the phone more to his office help than to church folks.  I spend more hours sitting in his examining chair than I do in a pew.  In fact, they ought to rent me a room there. 

              And I know this will take a toll on my spirituality.  It becomes more and more difficult to keep a good attitude.   While I certainly have more time to study, not having a current class to prepare to teach makes it less a priority and easy to put off, especially when reading is so difficult.  Helping others is nearly impossible, especially when you don’t even know what’s going on with the brethren any more.  So yes, my spirituality is suffering.  I struggle to keep it every day.  But the circumstances cannot be helped.

              What I do not understand is people who do this to themselves on purpose:  those who darken the meetinghouse door only enough to keep the elders and deacons off their backs, and leave while the last amen is still echoing down the hall; who never take advantage of the extra Bible studies held in homes, a safe place to ask questions without embarrassment and learn from those who have wisdom and experience in life; who avoid all the social gatherings of the church scheduled between the services, while regularly finding time to be with friends in the world, not to teach, but simply to socialize; who never have a Bible lesson prepared—that’s only for the children—who never attend a wedding or funeral so they can “weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice,” those who are healthy enough to jog, to play tennis, to hunt or fish, to go to ball games and sit in the hot sun for hours cheering, but simply do not want more than they consider the bare minimum to get by as a Christian. 

              Here is the problem with that:  there is no such thing as the bare minimum.  If Satan can get you to believe that lie, he has sabotaged any chance you have to make it to Heaven.  God expects us to give our all, no matter how much that may be; more for some, less for others, depending upon the circumstances of life.  It is difficult enough when the minimum IS your maximum, but doing that to yourself on purpose will only make you miserable in both lives, this one and the one to come.

              The early Christians understood that they were spiritual lifelines for each other; they would not let go for anyone or anything.  They spent time together, strengthening one another from the beginning, and because of that they were able to withstand horrors we can only imagine.  If you wait till the horror is upon you to reach out for that lifeline, it is probably too late.
 
And all that believed were together and had all things common…And day by day continuing steadfastly with one accord in the Temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people.  And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved, Acts 2:44,46,47.
 
Dene Ward

My grandniece has Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type 1.  SMA1 is a disease that causes progressive loss of motor neurons, leading to muscle weakness and atrophy.  Type 1 usually shows in babies 6 months and under.  The infants will have difficulty moving, eating, breathing, and swallowing.  They will be unable to lift their heads on their own and unable to sit up on their own.  Most victims of this disease do not survive past age 2 due to respiratory failure.  Abigail has already survived the odds, having turned four this year, but her life is not an easy one.
 
             Abigail must often be rushed to the hospital.  Even a simple cold could be the end.  She recently gave us a fright as she was once again loaded into an ambulance and carted off first to an ER and then a PICU.  Abigail takes it all in stride, and today she is going to teach us a lesson we all need to hear. 

              My niece, Abigail's mother, recently posted the following on Facebook:

             "Abigail's full name is Abigail Andreia (on-DRAY-uh) Saltz.
          [Her father] was very partial to "Abigail," and I...was not. He always wanted purely Biblical names for our children and I told him we could use Abigail IF he could think of a middle name that had three syllables, accent on the second syllable. He stretched his Biblical names rule by choosing a Greek word for her middle name meaning "brave," because it seemed a fitting descriptor for the queen we were naming her after and an admirable quality to live up to.
              Wow. The things you don't know.
            I have told Abigail what her middle name means so many times now that she thinks her *actual name* is Abigail Andreia Brave Saltz. When she has to do something scary she says, 'Gimme a minute. I' takin' away da Andreia and da Saltz so all I have is da Brave. Brave means being still even when you're scared.'
             Today the IV techs marveled at how still she was while putting in her IV.
           And this is what people mean when they say their children teach them far more than they teach their children."

              Abigail has always been the happiest child I have ever known.  I always suspected she was brave—children who have physical difficulties often are because of the things they experience from early on.  Now I know exactly how she does it.  She "takes away" the names that might be in the way so she can make use of the name that counts--Brave.
 
             Can I ask you this morning, what names do you need to take away?  The only name that should count for you is Christian—a child of God, a disciple of Christ.  That name will give you strength when temptations arise.  It will give you peace and contentment when you don't understand.  It will give you courage and steadfastness when trials beset your soul. 

            And why is that?  Because through that name we have life (John 20:31), we have hope (Matt 12:21), we have justification (1 Cor 6:11), we have remission of sins (Acts 10:43) and salvation (Acts 4:12).  We also have absolutely no excuse for failure because the one who wore that name left the example for us to follow, and said it was possible to do so.

              Four year old Abigail knows the power of a name.  Remember the name you wear.  Take away all the others and use that one to be faithful to the end.
 
Let them praise your great and awesome name! Holy is he! (Ps 99:3).

Dene Ward
 

Keith got a reprieve yesterday—I woke up with laryngitis.  A deaf man and a woman barely able to utter a whisper do not make a compatible couple.  We struggled through the evening after he came home from work.  He would ask a question then walk away until I finally threw something at him to get his attention so he could read my lips as I answered.  We would sit at the table together and I would talk without first making eye contact—I had to throw something at him then too.  You get the picture.  Most of the time a pillow or napkin was within reach, otherwise we might have had a real mess to clean up.

            Our biggest problems in life are usually caused by speaking when we should have been quiet.  On the other hand, there are times we should speak that we do not, times we get a case of spiritual laryngitis.  The more I think about it, the more I realize that my only motivation for having kept quiet at those times was fear.

            We preach to our young people about peer pressure, encouraging them to speak up about friends doing wrong, about believing unpopular beliefs, or to simply stand up for those everyone else is picking on as if these were easy things to do.  Do we do any better when certain subjects arise among our own peers?  Is it so easy to risk losing a friend, losing a sale, losing status in the community, losing the good opinion of people we want to impress?  No, we don’t do any better most of the time.  We are just as afraid to speak out as our children are.

            The thing we need to convince our young people of—and ourselves—is that we are afraid of the wrong thing.  With knowledge comes responsibility. 

            If I see you about to do something I know will hurt you and do not say anything, I am guilty of hurting you as much as if I did that hurtful thing to you myself. If I say to the wicked,  'You shall surely die,'  and you give him no warning,  nor speak to warn the wicked from his wicked way, in order to save his life,  that wicked person shall die for his iniquity, but his blood I will require at your hand. Ezek 3:18.

            If I fail to tell others that I am a Christian, if, like Peter during Jesus’ trial, I am afraid of the consequences that might bring me, I have denied my Lord,  Every one therefore who shall confess me before men, him will I also confess before my Father who is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father who is in heaven, Matt 10:32,33.

            If I see a wrong and fail to speak out, I am nothing more than a coward.  I have become a friend of the unjust man rather than a champion of his victim, and will be included in his curse.  (Prov 29:24.)

            Truly, fear gives you spiritual laryngitis.  It totally disables you.  You become useless to the Lord.  That is the thing you should fear more than anything else. 
 
What I tell you in the darkness, speak it in the light; and what you hear in the ear, proclaim upon the house-tops. And be not afraid of those who kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell, Matt 10:27, 28.
 
Dene Ward

We are a self-centered and selfish culture.  If you think that has not found its way into the church, you are wrong.  If you think it hasn’t found its way into your own heart, you are probably wrong again.  Have these words ever left your mouth?  “No one came to see me when I was sick/injured/in the hospital?”  There is your evidence right there.

             God meant for us to minister to others every day and in every circumstance of life.  Too often, if we see our lives as a ministry at all, we see it as periods of service broken up by periods when we cannot serve—for example, when we are ill.  In other words, when things don’t come easily, when things are not perfect, we are “on break” or “out to lunch.” 

              If anyone had an excuse for taking a break, it was Paul while he was in prison.  Yet he tells the Philippians that he was fulfilling his mission to preach the gospel, “this grace,” even while imprisoned, Phil 1:5-7.  God recently taught us this lesson of perpetual ministry in a way we will not soon forget.

              Keith had major surgery in May that kept him in the hospital five days.  In fact, it kept me in with him since I can more easily communicate with this deaf spouse of 40 years than anyone else can, and I took care of many basic nursing chores too.  

              We have always made it a point to treat service people as people, not personal slaves or furniture.  Many waitresses have told us they remember us from earlier visits precisely because of that.  We tried to do the same with the hospital medical staff.  We didn’t complain; we didn’t make demands; we took care of our own needs as often as possible, and said please and thank you when we had to ask for something.  We never really thought about that—it’s just something we do because the Lord would have us treat everyone kindly and with respect.

              One night one of the nurses took me aside and asked about our “religion.”  “There’s something different about you,” she said, and gave me an opening to talk with her about the Lord and our church family. 

              Another night one of the nurses stayed in our room talking to us far longer than she needed in order to accomplish her task.  Finally she said with a sigh, “I need to go check on the others, but I’ll be back to talk more when I can.”

              Yet another day, one of the nurses who had been with us for three days was leaving for four days off, and knew that she wouldn’t see us again.  She made a point to come say good-bye. 

              While we were there we handed out tracts and blog cards.  We wrote down church addresses and website addresses.  We gave out email addresses.  Although we had taken those things with us “just in case,” I was shocked at how many we were able to give out, at how many people wanted to talk.  We thought we needed their care, but God showed us how to give it right back.

              What is happening in your life right now?  Don’t assume that you cannot serve when you are physically indisposed.  Don’t hang an “out to lunch” sign on your life because you have too much going on right now to pay attention to anyone else.  What did Jesus do while he was hanging on the cross?  How many did he minister to?  His mother, a thief, the very men who drove the nails, and all of us as he died for our sins.

              Jesus expects us to live as he did, thinking of others’ needs first.  If you have done it long enough, it comes without thought, even in turbulent times, painful times, sorrowful times.  The trick is to do it while things are good.  Do it in the grocery store.  Do it on the freeway.  Do it at school and work and when you speak to your neighbor.  It must become natural in order to come automatically in trying circumstances.  Any difficulty you have, especially when things are easy, is a telling factor—it shows how little you have been working on it.

              Service, first, last, always--and regardless of circumstances—that is the motto of a true disciple of Christ.
 
I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ, Philippians 1:12-13.
To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints, and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak, Ephesians 6:18-20.
 
Dene Ward

When you are born with a disability, especially a rare one that no one has heard of like I was, or when you develop one in your twenties that is practically invisible like Keith has, you have learned to handle all sorts of inappropriate and insensitive remarks with grace and equanimity.  You begin to feel like you should quack once in a while—as it all rolls off your back.

              But there is one remark that always rankles, me more than Keith, although it is always directed at him:  "You can hear what you want to hear."

              Sometimes it's supposed to be a joke—a poor one; sometimes it's one of those "manly" gibes; but every time it shows ignorance on the part of the one who says it.  The temptation is strong to wish the malady on them for just one week and see if their tune doesn't change.  I have to beat that unkind thought off with a stick far too often.  Not Keith—he doesn't hear it!

              He started going deaf while he was in the service.  No one knows why; it does not run in the family.  He was prescribed his first pair of hearing aids six months into our marriage at the age of 27, and he has gone downhill steadily.  He is not just "hard of hearing;" he is now labelled by the specialists as "profoundly deaf."

              If he can't see your mouth, he can't "hear" you.  He lip-reads most of the time.  When the church decides to reserve the front center seats for a certain group that does not include the visually or aurally impaired, they are effectively removing him, and those like him, from the worship.

              At home he cannot hear me calling from another room.  Even if we are working side by side, we cannot talk as we work because he is keeping his attention on what he is doing.  Especially if we are doing something like peeling and chopping tomatoes for canning, he cannot even take a half second to look at my lips without endangering himself.  And I don't know about you, but I would find it hard to say much in half a second.

              At night when the lights go out, all communication ceases.  No pillow talk for us.  We have even had to work out a signal just in case I hear a prowler in the night, something I can do involving touch that tells him there is danger, but that he needs to keep quiet.

              When I have to be away from home overnight, he doesn't sleep well at all.  You cannot go to bed with your hearing aids on any more than you can with your glasses.  Without them, he cannot hear the smoke alarm, even though it is right outside our bedroom door.  A bad guy could hack the door down with an axe and be on him before he knew it.  Doesn't make for easy sleeping.

              When he works outside, he cannot wear his hearing aids.  They will short out from the moisture of perspiration.  Anyone who works with him has to learn how to communicate, and let me tell you, it can be exasperating.

              Yet, I can understand why people do not quite get it.  First, it's not always about volume.  A man and a woman could say something at precisely the same volume and assuming he can see them, he might hear the man but not the woman.  She speaks in a higher frequency.  Children are even worse, especially the younger ones whose speech is not yet clear. 

              Accents are a problem.  People from another country often speak in a different cadence, so besides pronunciation issues, the small things he has grown to count on that you never even notice are just "off."  So, yes, to the ignorant, it might seem like he can "hear" when he wants to.

              Even lip-reading is not the ultimate solution.  Many words "look" the same.  What "reads" like one word can easily be another.  He counts on knowing the subject in order to figure out the words.  Names and numbers have absolutely no context.  More often than not he gets them wrong, no matter who is saying them or how loudly.

              "Hearing" is a real chore for him.  What he hears is a fill-in-the-blank test.  He is constantly working to read lips, remember the context, and consider several possible words in a split second—every second.  Trying to keep up in a conversation with more than two others is next to impossible.  Sitting down to a relaxing conversation is a pipe-dream.

              "You can hear what you want to hear?"  Believe me, there are many things he would love to hear but can't.

              Like the voices of his children when they were little and wanted to tell Daddy something.  And now his grandchildren.  Gradually, they just gave up trying.

              Like the phone ringing when I got stuck in Birmingham in the middle of the night a long time ago.  It's a wonder I ever made it home.

              Like the several times I've needed urgent help outside in the yard, or even from another room in our one story, thirteen hundred square foot house and he could not come running. 

             Like being able to hear himself and others well enough to stay in key during the singing at church.  Here is a man who once played violin, one of the most aurally demanding instruments there is.  When we were dating, we talked about someday me playing the orchestral accompaniment to his violin concerto.  Never happened—he was already too deaf when we married.

               But he still loved to sing.  One time some middle schoolers sat in front of us at a church that will remain unnamed.  We noticed they were passing notes, but thought nothing of it until the service was over and they had left some trash in the pew.  He reached down to pick it up and throw it away.  There in his hand lay the note they had passed:  "Do you hear that guy behind us.  He sure sounds weird.  Who told him he could sing?"  God did actually, and he does, no matter what anyone else thinks, but he does wish he could hear well enough to still do it well.

              Yet that little comment, "You can hear what you want to hear," does have a valid application, even for normal hearing people.

              “Hear this, O foolish and senseless people, who have eyes, but see not, who have ears, but hear not. ​Do you not fear me? declares the LORD. Do you not tremble before me? I placed the sand as the boundary for the sea, a perpetual barrier that it cannot pass; though the waves toss, they cannot prevail; though they roar, they cannot pass over it. ​But this people has a stubborn and rebellious heart; they have turned aside and gone away. They do not say in their hearts, ‘Let us fear the LORD our God, who gives the rain in its season, the autumn rain and the spring rain, and keeps for us the weeks appointed for the harvest.’ (Jer 5:21-24)

              This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. (Matt 13:13)

              If we don't want to hear the truth, we won't.  We can even hear the words and come up with a completely different meaning, thus, Jesus' warning:  Take heed how you hear, (Luke 8:18.

              So if you suddenly feel a need to say, "You can hear what you want to hear," to someone who is hearing disabled, stop--remember to apply it to yourself first.
 
And unto them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah, which says, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall in no wise understand; And seeing ye shall see, and shall in no wise perceive: For this people's heart is waxed gross, And their ears are dull of hearing, And their eyes they have closed; Lest haply they should perceive with their eyes, And hear with their ears, And understand with their heart, And should turn again, And I should heal them. But blessed are your eyes, for they see; and your ears, for they hear. (Matt 13:14-16)
 
Dene Ward

You can learn a lot about a word by looking at its Greek original, even if you aren’t a Greek scholar.  When you see that we are supposed to be “striving” for the faith (Phil 1:27), and you find out the word is sunathleo, how difficult is it to see the English word “athlete” there?  Immediately you know that striving involves hours of disciplined training, a ton of sweat, and a whole lot of determination.  How smart do you really have to be when you discover that “faith working through love” (Gal 5:6), which uses the word energeo, means that you are to work energetically, with an attitude of “do it or bust?”
 
             So in our continuing study of faith I found this passage:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not…Luke 22:32.  I looked up “fail” and found this Greek word, ekleipo. 

              I’ll have to admit—I saw nothing at first.  Finally I looked up other uses of the word and found, just a page over in my Bible, Luke 23:45:  the sun’s light failing.  The context was the crucifixion when, according to the verse just above that one, darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour.           

              “Aha!” my feeble brain said, “an eclipse,”--ekleipo.  The light of the sun failed because something overshadowed it.  Now how do I use that in my study of faith “failing?”

              Sixteen years ago I woke up with what I thought was an earache.  I called the doctor and he prescribed an antibiotic.  The next morning some of the ache was gone, but enough remained for me to discover the true source of the pain—it was a tooth.  I had developed an abscess and the pain had simply radiated to my ear, but the medication at least knocked it back to its original source. This time I called the dentist and left a message.  It was late on a Friday afternoon and I needed to see someone before the weekend. 

              By that time, nearly 48 hours into this, I was moaning on the couch, totally unable to function.  I hadn’t even thought about dinner, much less started cooking it, even though I expected Keith home within the hour.  I hadn’t finished putting the clean sheets on the bed, or washed any dishes all day long.  I hadn’t accomplished any bookkeeping, or filled out the forms that were soon due for my students to enter State Contest.  Nothing mattered but that aching tooth and the sore lump now swelling on my jaw line.

              A few minutes later the phone rang, and I eagerly snatched it up, expecting a dental assistant.  It was an ex-Little League coach of my sons’.  Keith had suffered something resembling a seizure while riding his bike the thirteen miles home from work, and was lying right in front of his house, in the middle of the rural highway. 

              “The ambulance just arrived,” he said.  “I think if you hurry, you can be here before it leaves.”

              What do you think I did?  Lie back down and moan some more?  I was out of that house in a flash and did indeed beat the ambulance’s departure for the hospital.  That “seizure” turned out to be a stroke, and I sat in the hospital for five days afterward. 

              You can think your faith is important to you.  You can think you would never let anything “eclipse” it.  You can be positive that you are strong enough to handle the most intense trial or the most powerful temptation.  You can be absolutely wrong.

              I have seen men who stood for the faith against the ridicule of false teachers commit adultery.  I have seen women who diligently withstood the long trial of caring for a sick mate become bitter against everyone who ever tried to help them, and ultimately against God himself.  I have seen families who were called “pillars of the church” leave that very group when one of their own fell and was chastised. 

              Look to that passage I found:  I made supplication for you that your faith fail not.  Jesus was speaking to Peter, who subsequently declared, “I am ready to go both to prison and to death,” but not many hours later, he denied the Lord when those very things confronted him.  He was not prepared, and his faith was eclipsed by fear.

              Just as surely as my worry over my husband’s health totally eclipsed a very real and intense pain in my physical body, just as certainly as fear eclipsed the faith of a man like Peter, the events of life can eclipse your faith, causing it to fail.  Carnal emotions can overshadow you—lust, bitterness, resentment, hurt feelings among them.  It’s up to us to keep those things in their proper place, to allow nothing to detract from our faith in a God who promises that none of those things really matter because of the spiritual nature of the life to come.  It is, in fact, up to us to be spiritually minded, instead of carnally minded, to put the physical in the shade and let the light of the Truth shine on the spiritual.

              With a spiritual mind-set, nothing can eclipse your faith.  Your faith should, in fact, eclipse everything else.
 
 If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated on the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things that are above, not on the things that are upon the earth. For you died, and your life is hid with Christ in God, Colossians 3:1-3.
 
Dene Ward