I’m 69 and I take care of my mother who is 91. She has short-term memory loss. She can still play games; we just have to explain them each time. She can read and talk about politics, but she usually forgets that Trump is president and what we have said about him. She remembers the past very well and talks about her childhood.
Her favorite show is “Father Brown.” It is a British show about a priest who solves murders. He is also a kind and spiritual priest who says wonderful things about God. The thing is, she doesn’t remember the shows after she watches them. At first, I found different shows after we had watched all of “Father Brown”, but she would see a picture of him on Netflix and say, “I love “Father Brown”. I’d like to watch that.” So now, I just have that show on all the time for her when it is just the two of us up and about. My husband and her watch other things.
What I found really interesting is that we also watch Joyce Meyer, the preacher, every day. But there is a big difference. She remembers the shows! If there are two of them to watch and I choose the one we watched before she will say, “We’ve seen this one.”
When my husband was in the hospital for a procedure that went all wrong, he became very sick. I went in his room one morning and he looked at me and said, “Who are you?” I left the room and started bawling in the hallway. A nurse ran up and asked me why I was crying and I said, “My husband doesn’t even know who I am.”
All hell broke loose; doctors came running from everywhere. It turned out that during the procedure the doctor had cut open his liver and didn’t know it. They did save him and he was okay. He got his memory back.
He told me later that when he had woken up, he had remembered God and Jesus, but that was all. He hadn’t even known who he was or why he was in a hospital. He said remembering Jesus gave him peace of mind. He wasn’t worried.
When my nephew became very sick with schizophrenia, the only time he talked sanely was when he talked with me about whether there was a God and what he was like. We talked on and off for about 6 months. The last time I saw him he told me he believed in God and given his life to him. A few days later he was dead by suicide.
I find all this beautiful and encouraging, how God can speak to and live in our minds no matter how sick we are, no matter how our minds are affected.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.