Sometime today…or maybe tomorrow…the person you care for may seem to withdraw. There’s no reason you can identify. You’ve checked for medical concerns…and there are none. Nothing disruptive was done. Nothing disturbing was said. They’ve simply “gone” to a very private interior place. A place of the heart. A place of memories and reflections. Or, perhaps, a place of unnamed, uncertain fears they can’t express.
Respect those times of withdrawal. Don’t probe. Resist the urge to ask, “What’s wrong?” Stop all but urgent actions. Let your own heart grow quiet. Breathe in the peace of Christ. Let him calm your own struggles. Let him make you a stiller of life’s storms. A restorer of inner quiet and clarity.
Today (tonight) you’ll minister with skilled hands and a wisdom born of experience. And you’ll care with a deep sense of peace that is not of your own doing. It is the result of a patient, trusting heart. A heart that draws on the peace of Christ. Experience his peace…and share it freely.
Lord, speak peace to my oft-anxious heart, then teach me to be a minister of your peace. Amen
Photo courtesy of Ken Jones, copyright 2016