Always Ready to Help

My grandmother was the person I most wanted to be like. Nothing kept her troubled. Despite a lifetime of health challenges, she held to her firm conviction that the Lord would take care of her. After my grandfather died, I felt privileged when I was able to move in with her and help provide her care.

On Sunday mornings, Grandma and I ate breakfast together before I went to church. After breakfast, I would get her settled in bed where she watched church services on TV until I returned home. One particular Sunday, she wanted to linger at the table. I asked her to call me when she was ready to go to her bedroom, and I started to tidy up the kitchen. Less than five minutes later, I heard the crash. I rushed back to see my grandmother sprawled across the dining room floor, her walker upended. Her shoulder jutting out at an alarming angle.

Later as I sat with her in the emergency room, my thoughts swirled. Why couldn’t she just have waited and let me help her? As I prayed, the Lord gently reminded me how difficult it is for any of us to ask for help.