Elderly

P 3393 And a-w-a-y we will go… … again.

/ DVH

Very early this Sunday morning, we shall pack the last few items into our car and set off again. The Lord has asked us to go and take more bibles etc., blankets and toiletries to two separate hubs out in the country, because the weather has been so very cold and the people out there need to know SomeOne wonderful cares for them. Jesus, of course.

As we travel, we often also find ourselves comforting the people who help those who are down and out. The government workers suffer because there are far too many people and not enough funds. Plus as we go, we pray for and help those whose lives have taken a terrible turn and they are now on the streets, or hiding from brutality, grief, and chaos. They are the homeless and defenceless.

The news has finally begun reporting on the crisis our farming communities are currently facing. Many families on the land rent their properties and their rent has gone up too. And some, who have a mortgage, are now facing those awful rising interest rates. Sadly, the oil crisis has caused the prices of fertiliser, feed, seed and spray to rise. 64.1% of farmers have been heavily impacted by rising transportation costs.

Australia runs well because of our truck drivers, but it is a hard life, driving vast distances, and the roads are often not good out in the bush. All these people need our prayers, plus any emotional, practical, and financial help we can give them. When we act like they don’t matter, we are biting the hand that feeds us. They provide our food!  Let’s do more than think about that.

Here’s some info -14% of our entire population, that’s approximately 3.7 million people Australia-wide —including one in six children …are currently living below the poverty line. I am choosing to speak for those human beings among us who have no voice, they are too busy to have one!

Especially farmers – those faithful men and women who are far too busy getting up at 3.00am to 5.00am to milk their cows or pick their crop, to be complaining about the way someone else lives. The people in our cities simply cannot afford to forget them. Those who work on the land suffer the hardships of this great, wonderful, sometimes frightening land we live in — along with children, the elderly and the disabled. We need to help each other. 

My own personal success rate with growing our own fruit and veggies at our house is about 5%. So I definitely need them or I would starve. I don’t even want to begin to think about killing a chicken! I just thank God for someone with greater skills than I have, who will do that for me. Maybe today we can take the time to prayerfully remember those people who put the food on our plates. And I don’t just mean just the supermarket magnates – who have entirely different problems! I mean the little guy stocking the shelves all day every day, just so you can have your favourite brand of Cornflakes.

In the past 21 years we’ve found that we don’t always have to give money to help, even a tiny bit of love shared, lightens the load. We just try to spread kindness, compassion around wherever we go, as He leads us. When His Grace visits these precious souls He loves so dearly, we’ve seen people with tears pouring down their faces because we simply came to help them however we could. “… I was in prison and you visited Me…” Matthew 25:36. Poverty, despair and abuse, are all types of different prisons. 

The Body of Christ has been told to live this way. It’s not an optional extra. Over the years, many of us have left ministry to our leaders, instead of understanding that we can all do something.  This time some children in a local school bagged up the toiletries for us. When we take care of the poor and disadvantaged, we are doing it for Jesus, because He has chosen to totally identify Himself with them. He has also been rejected and misunderstood by the world around Him. Not to mention His parents, and immediate family. (Mark 3:20-21), (John 7:1-5), (Mark 3:31-35).

For three and a half years the Lord Jesus Himself lived on the road, going from town to town, walking long distances. And He lived like that to totally identify with all of us. He slept by the side of tracks, and relied upon the kindness of friends and strangers for food. He even ate grain straight from a field, and drank water from a well!

At the beginning of His life – not long after He was born, in the poorest of circumstances, His parents took Him as an infant and ran for their lives from persecution. This is one of the many things I love about the Lord Jesus. It says: “…He shared our sorrows and pain….” Not just in theological theory, but in practice. A follower, is someone devoted to Jesus’ Ways. They choose to pick up their cross and learn from the Master Himself, daily.

Jesus Christ, God incarnate, deliberately chose to live like we do. I remind myself … that the KING of heaven chose to live like an ordinary human being. This means He knows suffering, firsthand. After all, none of us can live this life without bumping into it! That’s why the Lord Jesus is the perfect Saviour. His compassion for mankind is so much greater and all encompassing than we can imagine. We don’t have to be millionaires to care or share. When our lives are not our own, its easy. We just share whatever we have.

So off we go again… Bye …🚙  PS I’ll be writing blogs as we travel, and a huge thank you to all those who are praying for us.

P 2852 Getting older is a gift.

/ DVH

Lately, hubby and I have had to focus on end-of-life-things, because of elderly family. But enjoying those old folks who are ahead of me age-wise, has provided me with a whacky glimpse into my possible future. Through my interactions with them, I’ve discovered the wonderful humour involved in getting older. With all its foibles and fancies. So today I want to share some fun stories with you. You must understand I am not laughing at old folks … I are one! … But the end of our lives can produce circumstances that are just plain hilarious. These things take our pompous, stuffy I’ve-got-it-all-together attitudes, and poke huge holes in them.  It seems we’ve become too vague to realise we aren’t who we were, anymore!!

My dear Mum, is now 97 years old. She has been extremely deaf all her life. Back in the ark, people whacked other people over the ear-hole regularly, and that had dire results for her. She has been terribly deaf as long as I can remember. Moving along from that stuff, because I want to illustrate the funny bits, not the gnash-your-teeth-and-blame-other-people ones. Lately she has been talking about her hearing loss a lot. She went into an old folk’s home years ago, her choice, and … well … those places can leave a lot to be desired unless you go into one of the millionaire ones! She didn’t!

However she’s happy there – she tells us so, often! Most of the time Mum, in her newly discovered forgetfulness, repeats the same caring questions, over and over again, sometimes minutes apart. We just answer her like it is the first time we’ve heard it. I’ve found a useful secret when relating to the elderly – old people love to reminisce. Back to Mum’s ears.

Recently we discovered that she has not been wearing her hearing aids. We figured that out because we’ve had to shout a lot when we went to see her. So hubby trundled off to get her hearing aids checked out – again – that was the third time in as many months. The home cheerfully gave him 5 single hearing aids to be checked out, even though hearing aids are designed to work in pairs! But, apparently, none of them were working. Well, that odd single hearing aid was always going to be out of luck really. Maybe its partner wandered off somewhere or was stood on! That’s when it transpired that the single hearing aid actually belongs to someone else, called Tony. Who is probably wondering why his hearing aids don’t work either! 

And at the same time, we discovered that one of the other whole pairs has enjoyed the wash and rinse cycle in the washing machine. Hearing aids don’t like that …apparently! The final pair of the five aids were issued in 2016. If I were a hearing aid, I think I’d turn up my toes after 8 or 9 years too. So where have my Mum’s brand new hearing aids gone? Not a clue, neither has the staff. Maybe there is an old lady with a few of them stuffed in each ear or someone is flogging used hearing aids on Ebay. Gotcha! Currently there are more new ones on the way … which is useful. Now we can talk to Mum and not disturb the people 3 blocks away.

Hubby has been a geriatric nurse in his past, and he’s told me some funny stories about his experiences with elderly patients. In the olden days if your teeth were bad you got false teeth – but nowadays they give you root canal and crowns. Dentists became very clever about this kind of stuff in the years in between – they all drive BMWs now! Anyhoo! One morning at the home hubby discovered 6 old folks who couldn’t find their false teeth. He investigated and found one old chap who looked rather like a gold fish – you know the puffy ones? Hmmm. They fished out 6 pairs of false teeth from inside his mouth, and none of them were his! The nurses restored the teeth to their rightful owners after a spot of disinfection. 

Then there was a dear old man who had to get up out of his bed every night to go to the toilet. He had formulated a clever system to make sure he could find his bed again, by counting the doors between his room and the toilet. All went well until he tried to return to his room! He carefully counted, got back to his room and lo and behold, someone else was in what was supposed to be his bed! So the old man figured he must have counted incorrectly, and he walked back to the loo, and began again. He did this many times and still came up with the same result. Fortunately a nurse went by and found the poor old chap still wandering up and down the hallway muttering to himself. It transpired that Goldilocks – in the shape of an often-wandering little old lady – had wandered into his room and snaffled his just-right bed! 

On yet another night one elderly lady suddenly stood up on her bed, walked to the end of it, put her foot on the food tray and grasped the curtain rail … all of this without slipping over! And then she hung there like a trapeze artist. Eventually she lost her grip and fell to the floor, on her head. Fortunately, when she got up, she was totally undamaged and after careful X-ray examination, they put her back into her bed. Why would she do such a thing? Who knows? Maybe she liked the monkey bars as a kid! I still think getting older is a gift! Bye for today. 👋

Psalm 73:26: “Though my flesh and my heart fail, God is the rock of my heart, my portion forever.”