{"id":4609,"date":"2019-02-28T11:18:03","date_gmt":"2019-02-28T17:18:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/nafwb.org\/?p=4609"},"modified":"2019-02-28T11:18:03","modified_gmt":"2019-02-28T17:18:03","slug":"do-you-know-who-i-am","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/do-you-know-who-i-am\/","title":{"rendered":"Do You Know Who I Am?"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Keith Burden<\/strong><\/p>\n

Some things are worse than dying. That was the conclusion I reached after watching my mother suffer from the ravages of Alzheimer\u2019s disease. For years I erroneously believed this condition affected only the mind. Our experience proved otherwise.<\/p>\n

To be perfectly honest, we didn\u2019t recognize some of the more subtle signs in the early stages. We attributed things like forgetfulness, episodes of confusion and mood swings to aging or poor circulation. In spite of these minor irregularities, she continued to function at an amazing level of normality.<\/p>\n

Eventually the telltale signs became too obvious to overlook or ignore. Mom was unable to perform the simplest household tasks. Paranoia, depression, personality changes and the tendency to become quiet and withdrawn signaled that something was seriously wrong.<\/p>\n

Her doctor believed she had Alzheimer\u2019s. That diagnosis led my wife to a book written by prominent physicians on the subject. The more she read, the more convinced we became that Mom had all the classic symptoms of this disease. She was a textbook case.<\/p>\n

From Bad to Worse<\/strong><\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t until my father became ill and had to be hospitalized, however, that we recognized the full extent of her condition. During the month Mother stayed in our home, we observed behavior that was nothing short of incredible. It was almost as though a stranger was living in her body.<\/p>\n

Her condition deteriorated to the point we were forced to place her in a nursing home and then later a lock-down Alzheimer\u2019s facility. The downward spiral continued. Mom fell three times, resulting in broken hips and surgeries. A failing appetite, subsequent weight loss and a progressively failing memory characterized the months that followed. She would eventually stop walking or talking.<\/p>\n

During one of my regular visits, I walked into her room unannounced. Moving carefully to her bedside, I took her hand and leaned near her face. She looked at me as though I was a total stranger.<\/p>\n

Softly I said, \u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d After a moment\u2019s hesitation she smiled and replied, \u201cYes! Do you?\u201d In spite of her diminished mental capacity, she hadn\u2019t lost her ability to make me laugh. Although she never called my name or acknowledged who I was, she was able to make me think . . . deeply.<\/p>\n

Knew Me<\/strong><\/p>\n

Since that experience with Mom, I\u2019ve thought a lot about that question. Did she really know who I was? If you\u2019re referring to that moment, that day in her room, the answer is no. The disease had eroded her memory to the point that she didn\u2019t recognize her own son. If, however, you\u2019re asking if she knew who I was during the years that preceded her illness, the answer is a resounding yes!<\/p>\n

Knew I Was Her Responsibility<\/strong><\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t pawn me off on someone else. She cared for me and nurtured me. She fed me and clothed me. She loved me unconditionally and, yes, she disciplined me. She attended every ballgame and made sure I did my homework.<\/p>\n

Knew I Was a Sinner<\/strong><\/p>\n

On more than one occasion she spoke to me about my spiritual need. During a revival meeting in 1965, she slipped her arm around my shoulder and whispered, \u201cDon\u2019t you want to give your heart to Jesus, Son?\u201d<\/p>\n

That gentle nudge was all I needed. When I finished praying the sinner\u2019s prayer at the altar that evening, I looked up and she was kneeling by my side.<\/p>\n

Knew I Was a Preacher<\/strong><\/p>\n

She was at the youth camp in 1970 when I answered the call to preach. She heard my first sermon\u2014all 12 minutes of it. She gave me my first chain-reference study Bible\u2014I still have it. She encouraged me all the way through college. She attended my ordination service. Every time we were in a church service together after that, she told all her friends, \u201cThat\u2019s my son. He\u2019s a preacher you know!\u201d<\/p>\n

Knew I Was Grateful<\/strong><\/p>\n

When I was growing up there was not much public display of affection in our family. After I left home and got married that all changed. I seldom said goodbye to my mother, especially in the latter years, without first giving her a kiss, a hug and saying, \u201cI love you.\u201d I made a conscious, deliberate effort to let her know that I was thankful for her love, prayers and support.<\/p>\n

When it Was Important<\/strong><\/p>\n

She knew me when it counted, and she helped me know myself. Through her influence I learned that I am \u201cfearfully and wonderfully made.\u201d Because of her witness I saw the need to be \u201ccrucified with Christ.\u201d As a result of her prayers I can say that I have been \u201cmade the righteousness of God in him.\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes . . . my mom knew who I was, and thanks to her, I know who I am today.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Keith Burden Some things are worse than dying. That was the conclusion I reached after watching my mother suffer from the ravages of Alzheimer\u2019s disease. For years I erroneously believed this condition affected only the mind. Our experience proved otherwise. To be perfectly honest, we didn\u2019t recognize some of the more subtle signs in the early stages. We attributed things like forgetfulness, episodes of confusion and mood swings to aging or poor circulation. In spite of these minor irregularities, she continued to function at an amazing level of normality. Eventually the telltale signs became too obvious to overlook or ignore. Mom was unable to perform the simplest household tasks. Paranoia, depression, personality changes and the tendency to become quiet and withdrawn signaled that something was seriously wrong. Her doctor believed she had Alzheimer\u2019s. That diagnosis led my wife to a book written by prominent physicians on the subject. The more she read, the more convinced we became that Mom had all the classic symptoms of this disease. She was a textbook case. From Bad to Worse It wasn\u2019t until my father became ill and had to be hospitalized, however, that we recognized the full extent of her condition. During […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[16],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4609","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-pastors"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4609","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4609"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4609\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4610,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4609\/revisions\/4610"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4609"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4609"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nafwb.org\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4609"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}