ELIZABETH TURNAGE | CONTRIBUTOR

When my dad’s cancer spread to his bones, and he became at risk for falls, my brother and I acted quickly. Out of concern for his safety, we helped him move from the home where he had lived alone for the past twenty years into a comfortable assisted living facility. My dad often half-jokingly referred to the assisted living facility as “Shawshank,” after the prison in the movie “The Shawshank Redemption.” To an introvert who had lived alone since his divorce forty-five years before, being suddenly surrounded by so many people probably did feel like imprisonment.

Caring with Compassion and Respect

Our story with my dad reveals a common caregiver struggle. As caregivers, we seek the safety of our loved one, and in so doing, we sometimes ignore or minimize their desires. In our commitment to safety, we can also make the mistake of treating adults as if they were children, unable to make wise decisions for themselves. Even when dementia or disease prevents our loved ones from thinking clearly, we still must care for them with compassion and respect. To learn how to navigate this challenging terrain, we must remain centered in Christ’s compassion.

Learning from Christ’s Compassion

As he cared for people, Christ showed compassion by looking at and for people, by asking good questions and listening to the answers, and by gently pointing people to the hope they had in him.

Look as Jesus looked.

Jesus looked at people, and Jesus looked for people. He saw beyond their disease or disability because he looked for and saw the image of God in them.

After the hemorrhaging woman touched Jesus in a crowd, Jesus looked for the person who had touched him. Even though the disciples warned him it would be impossible to identify the person in such a mob, he kept looking (Mark 5:32). When Jesus found the woman, he showed extraordinary compassion. Most people in the Jewish culture would have turned away from her because she was unclean, but Jesus spoke with kindness and respect, calling her “daughter” and praising her faith (Mark 5:34).

In our caregiving, we fail to see people when we look only through the lens of our fear and our desire for control. With my dad, looking through the lens of my fear led me to imagine him falling down the stairs at his home. If I had looked instead through the lens of Jesus’ compassion, I would have seen a man who valued his independence, a man who didn’t want to burden anyone. While seeing his needs and longings might not have changed the decision my brother and I made to move him, it would have helped us to validate his struggle in giving up his independence.

Listen as Jesus listened.

Jesus often showed compassion by asking good questions and by listening carefully to the answers (even though he knew the answers).

Blind Bartimaeus called out to Jesus as he passed by, and many in the crowd told him to quit bothering Jesus. He kept crying out (Mark 10:48). Jesus heard him, called him to come, and asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?” (Mark 10:51). Bartimaeus told Jesus he wanted to see, and Jesus healed him, praising his faith (Mark 10:52).

Why did Jesus ask Bartimaeus such a seemingly obvious question? Paul Miller suggests a reason, “For a brief moment Jesus goes inside the blind man’s skin. Asking questions slows us down and puts us in other people’s worlds, hearing their words, their expressions, their desires. We become the learner rather than the expert.”[i] As Miller explains, “We patronize people when we assume that we know how they want to be helped.”[ii]

When I heard the news that my dad’s cancer had spread to his bones, I was alarmed. I called my brother, and we decided he must be moved. Sadly, I never asked my dad, “What do you want me to do for you?” Clearly, I’m not Jesus, and I had no power to heal my dad’s cancer. Still, I could have asked the question and listened to his answer. I could have slowed down and put myself in my dad’s world. Even if I could not help him in the way he wanted to be helped, I could have listened as he voiced his desires and his grief.

Point people to the hope of the gospel.

Jesus loved people by recognizing their sin, by pointing them to their hope of forgiveness and restoration, and by sending them out to share this hope.

Although we tend to focus on physical suffering, Jesus always pointed beyond the physical reality to the spiritual need. To the paralytic, he first said, “Son, your sins are forgiven,” and then, “Rise, pick up your bed, and go home” (Mark 2:5, 10). To the hemorrhaging woman, he said, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease” (Mark 5:34). To both the paralytic and the hemorrhaging woman, Jesus showed compassion by naming their deepest need, the forgiveness of sins, and by sending them out as living witnesses to his transforming power.

While we don’t have the power to heal our loved ones or to forgive their sins, we can point them to their greatest hope in suffering, the Christ who suffered for them. With my dad, I could have recognized his struggle to give up independence as partially rooted in the sin we all battle—the desire to control our own lives. While I might not have named that sin to him, I could have named the struggle to give up independence, and I could have pointed him to the Savior who “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped” (Phil. 2:6). I could have also named how he reflected the image of Christ in the way he thanked and encouraged his servers in the dining room every day. As we gently help our loved ones name their struggle with sin and as we also name how they point us to Christ, we show them compassion and respect.

Running to Christ

Caregiving can severely try our patience at times. Many days, we will fail to love well in our caregiving, and many days our loved ones will fail to love us well. And yet, as we look to Christ, we will find forgiving love that never fails us. As we listen for the sound of his voice calling us to come to him, we will find rest for our souls. As we remember that he is coming back to end our days of sorrow and struggle, we will find hope to sustain us on our caregiving journey.

Editor’s note: This post is part of a series on caregiving, to read other posts in the series, click here.

[i] Miller, Paul E. Love Walked Among Us: Learning to Love Like Jesus. (Colorado Springs: The Navigators, 2014), 74.

[ii] Miller, 75.

Photo by Steven HWG on Unsplash