“Your time is valuable. Share it!” Advice I wouldn’t have expected to read. Truth I’ve discovered again and again—especially now that I’m a caregiver.

Rereading a post from one year ago reminds me the cycle continues and the circle won’t end.

“Thank you, Lord, for staying with us through each storm, even when we wonder if it will overwhelm us.”

I call this “My Chronicle,” sort of a diary recording the steps on our journey. And this week I feel I must mention that many of them are quite pleasant.

He was pretty satisfied with himself, with all he had done, and all he had avoided doing. But he hadn’t given God his heart, and I wonder: Have I?

Listen with me to the interactions between a young parent and her child, and see if you’re hearing the same phrases today.

Children everywhere are suffering, and Jesus cares. He cares not only about them but also about the adults in our care becoming more childlike month by month.

I’ve been thinking about happiness and contentment and satisfaction. And I can report that the last goal, although not always automatic, is the easiest to achieve.

The second in a series of devotions for October. “Here’s What Jesus Does.”  He reminds us of God’s care.

She was peaceful, gracious, encouraging, and always, always positive. I didn’t understand her secret till after she died.

Here’s hope for caregivers who feel oppressed—and a challenge for those who love them.

To live well with a dementia sufferer, you must enter their world. This is the main, but not the only, lesson I learned but actually used too slowly.

Capitalizing on the present while admitting and grieving the loss of the past is the challenge for everyone loving a person with a debilitating disease.

Look closely and you’ll find encouragement for caregivers in this well-known account of Jesus’ conversation with a Samaritan woman.

As a daughter anticipates Yom Kippur, she thinks about how she has served her mother, wondering about the year to come.

No one is shuffling Evelyn into a corner to die. But her compassionate doctors are seeking the best quality of life we can have now.

It’s good for us to read this story again, to wonder at its depth as well as its simplicity, and to think what it means for ourselves as well as those in our care.

Some caregivers are isolated and alone. Some Alzheimer’s patients are trapped at home. But at this stage of our journey, our lives are as full as we can bear, and I’m very grateful.

Maybe I’ve never prayed so long because I never faced a decision as large as the one Jesus was anticipating.

The blessings showered on us are all welcome—even though so many are shadowed by the unpleasant difficulties of this season.