About three and a half years ago, my dad suffered a catastrophic event due to an exotic dementia. Suddenly, our family was living a nightmare. We did all we could to help him. I left home to provide nursing care for him--and sometimes my mom--and then returned home two months later weary and broken. 

Over time, we watched this disease rob our dad of his health, strength, and memory. Though he's still at home, he is fragile and declining. The many losses wash over me with their own kind of grief. 

I share my early morning prayer. . .

 "A man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering."  Isaiah 53:3   World English Bible

Dear Heavenly Father,

I awaken to a quiet house and open my door to the day you've made for us. 

I hear the cooing of a mourning dove as I water porch petunias.

Its melancholy song strikes a chord of sadness stirring in my heart.

I mourn for my dad. I miss him ... the man he used to be. 

There is little I can do to relieve his suffering. I feel so helpless, 

and grief is a lonely place.

Lord, grant Your mercy and healing for each person we bring before You.

Restore our joy and sense of wholeness, so we may serve 

and minister to our loved ones in need.

Thank you for loving us and hearing our prayers; 

for bearing our burdens and grief as we walk the sands of sorrow. 

We hold fast to Your promise that You will never leave us nor forsake us.

We give You the glory and praise. In Christ's name. 

Amen.

#grief  #sands of sorrow