My maternal grandfather has severe dementia.
He is 90 and has been in the hospital for the past two weeks. He has undergone, and is currently recovering from, a tumor removal surgery.
This past Saturday, Psalm and I went to visit him. He was "somewhere else" for most of the time. Occasionally, my aunt would call his name and tell him someone new was there to visit. And he would open his eyes for a moment, say hello to the newcomer, exchange a word, and then close his eyes again. Shortly thereafter, he would commence talking to someone else, someone from his past, or he would commence with some task--often seemingly eating and talking to people we could not see.
Occasionally, though, he would open his eyes and say, "Who's here?" And Aunt Sue would go to his side immediately and introduce everyone in the room.
The hour and a half we were there, he welcomed Psalm three times.
I watched my daughter as she would dutifully walk up to the side of Poppa's bed when Aunt Sue summoned. "Psalmie is here. She came to see you, Daddy." Psalm would tentatively, yet lovingly, touch his hand, letting him know she was there.
He would smile and say something to her, and then close his eyes.
Those eyes. Such a beautiful sky blue. Still, after everything, such a beautiful sky blue. Dementia and age could never mask that.
Auntie Sue and my mom are taking turns staying the night with Poppa while he's in the hospital. My grandma can't endure overnight stays, physically speaking, so she comes to the hospital early and goes home late, staying by Poppa's side as long as she is allowed.
As I sat by my aunt on the couch in his room, she told me what had happened one night last week when she and her husband, Uncle Bob, stayed the night with Poppa.
She said that around 1-2 a.m. one morning, Poppa sat straight up in the bed, opened his eyes and said, clearly, "We want to welcome everyone to the service this morning..." Then he looked to my aunt, called her "Sister So-and-So" (she wasn't quite sure whose name he called) and asked her to sing a special. My aunt started humming a song she remembered from the "Red Hymnal," the same church hymnal he/we had sung from for a lifetime. When she finished humming, Poppa thanked her and then asked someone to pray.
Aunt Sue said he got quiet. Not a word or sound. She thought he had fallen back to sleep. But then, Poppa said, "Amen," as if the prayer HE COULD HEAR had ended.
Then he started to preach.
"The message," he told them, had two points. "Get Ready. Jesus is Coming Soon."
Aunt Sue said she watched in awe as he preached the sermon, citing Scripture.
And then he concluded with this altar call: "If you know the Lord, if you have accepted Christ as your personal Savior, this will be a great, great day. If you don't, it will be a very sad day."
Then, after a pause, he said. "I'm tired now," laid his head to rest on the pillow, and went to sleep.
Isaiah 55:11 says, "So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it."
I don't know how YOU have interpreted that Scripture before, but after hearing this story, I can't help but look at that last phrase in a completely new light: "it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." The Lord GAVE that Word to Poppa, and NOTHING, not even dementia, could keep His Word from taking root in Poppa's mind, prospering him in these moments, this particular chapter, of his life.
Yesterday, at church, I shared this remarkable story. I talked about the time we spend at church, the "Deposits" we've made into our mind, body, and spirit of the Word, and of praise. How these things impact us, ultimately, we may never know this side of Heaven.
But this past week?
I am convinced. I am convinced that this Man of God, riddled with cancer, bed sores, blindness, dementia and frailty, gave the enemy of our souls one hell of a black eye that night.
Know this, devil: The Word Prevails.
The Apostle Paul put it this way in Romans 8: "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, [or DEMENTIA?] or peril, or sword?... Nay, in ALL these things we are MORE THAN CONQUERORS through him that loved us. For I am PERSUADED that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, SHALL BE ABLE TO SEPARATE US FROM THE LOVE OF GOD, WHICH IS IN CHRIST JESUS OUR LORD."
No, no thing shall separate us.
PRAISE THE LORD!!!!
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