“Nehemiah said, “Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is holy to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”
Nehemiah 8:10 (NIV)
I’ve always focused on the last part of this scripture only, that “the joy of the Lord is our strength,” but in the first part of this verse, I discovered a a meaningful message as well.
Nehemiah was a governor of the province of Judah. He obtained permission for the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem, after the Jewish people had been exiled for seventy years. They were finally given permission after all those years to worship in their holy city, Jerusalem. They didn’t have all of the land yet, which God once promised them, and they didn’t possess their own nation, but they were presently given access to a city. That was a start and a great blessing, after living in exile. Nehemiah’s advice was to celebrate in that present moment.
That is the message that I received, to rejoice in the present moment, instead of dwelling on the things we or our loved ones do not have yet. Nehemiah’s people did not have their own nation, but they had Jerusalem. He told the people to eat choice food, and drink sweet drinks to celebrate, which is symbolic of cherishing the present. To eat, drink and celebrate isn’t a selfish behavior, because Nehemiah told them to share it with others who had nothing, and they did.
This story gave me a new and different outlook in how to find my joy in hardship or difficult situations. Especially in dealing with a loved one who is disabled in some way, whether it’s due to dementia, disease, addiction, birth injury, or traumatic brain injury, if we meet the person where they are, and love them for who they are, we find the blessings in the moment, which leads to real joy.
We can become so anxious, looking for any sign of improvement or progress, that we miss out on the present human connection with someone. If we become so wrapped up in who they once were, what they lost or what they can achieve and become in the future, we might be missing the joy in the present moment. When we miss out on the present moment, we are not eating the choice food or drinking the sweet drinks that Nehemiah said to do. If we let go of all our expectations, our heart can open up to the human bond of love here and now.
We don’t have to be injured or ill to want to be loved for who we are, with all of our faults, flaws and infirmities. No one wants to feel that they have to get better first or reach certain milestones to please the one who loves them.
The same goes for how we respond to an ill or injured loved one. Whether their illness or injury is physical, mental or emotional, we meet them where they are here and now, because love is patient, enduring and it fully dwells in the present.
Love is unconditional and does not remain in a state of gloom and depression over past illness or injury. It embraces the present moment.
If we knew that today would be our last day with our loved one, how would it change our way of interacting with them? We would probably forget about everything else, except showing love to them and finding joy in that last moment. To treat each day as if it is the last day with someone is a real game changer. When we dwell on watching for signs of improvement, we are no longer enjoying them as they are, and they can sense it as well.
I never thought about this before and it was not a theme that I planned to write about, but my last visit to the Nursing Facility taught me a new outlook regarding my expectations.
Jon wouldn’t eat much, and he wasn’t trying to talk much that day either. He just sat and stared at people. Some days he is more active than others, but I tend to always visit him with the same intense searching for signs of progress.
I looked at how sad he looked sitting and staring at people, and decided to go and just put my arm around him, cheek against cheek, hugging him. Then he lifted his good arm up and put it around me, to hug me back, which was a first. I wish I had a picture, but it gave me a moment of joy to know he could and did express love in return. Some residents sitting nearby saw it, and I could hear their gasps of excitement in seeing that moment.
That was my present moment of eating choice food and drinking sweet drinks, which was also shared with those onlookers. It taught me that treating each day as our only day, changes everything. Jon might not eat or talk some days, but he can and does receive and express love.
If we metaphorically compare our situation to Nehemiah’s, we may not have the entire nation yet, but we can find joy in having the holy city of Jerusalem. By treating each day as if it is our only day, we find blessings in the present moment, as we realize love outlasts everything else.
Instead of grieving over what a loved one lost or does not have, because of illness or injury, we can celebrate here and now, by loving them for who they are, and sharing our joy with others. That’s how the joy of the Lord gives us our strength.
Lord, help us to cherish the present with all of our loved ones, especially those who are ill or injured. Give us patience to learn to celebrate and live in the moment and to share the love that we have with others. Amen