Find Him Familiar

Familiarity. It can be comforting, with a sense of security. I am reminded of a tremendous moment I experienced while working as a caregiver at a local assisted living home. Most of the folks were self-sufficient, enjoying the social aspect of the facility. While others struggled with high moments of joy only to be overrun with the anger and fear found in Alzheimer’s. While checking on a resident, it was pointed out to me that “Preacher” (whom I lovingly nicknamed, due to his lifelong profession) was wandering the halls. I went and found him. He stood quietly. His aged demeanor in the previous days was that of dignity, maturity, and strength.

But not today.

We had shared many conversations in the past, as he tenderly spoke sermons while we shuffled to the dining hall.  However today, there was no sermon. Alzheimer’s had again reached out and pulled him in. Finding him in the hall near his apartment, I suggested we go in and sit down for a little while. Taking the key he held in his hand; I opened the door and led the way. Preacher took a seat on his sofa, his eyes wandering about the room as if looking for something, ANYTHING that defined this place his, his home, which defined—him.

Looking at me with longing, he told me that his house, just across the river, was a nice little place. Confusion taking over his continence, “But this morning when I woke up, I was here. All my furniture, my things, but this is not my little house.” Leaning forward, looking deep into my eyes, with bewilderment and agitation, he whispered, “What should I do?”

My eyes returning the intensity of his, I asked him, “Would you mind if we prayed, we’ll talk to God?” After a brief pause, it was THEN—there it was, and there HE was. Something sparked familiarity. He may not have recognized me, or the place, or the time, but GOD he knew! His eyes began to well up. I reached for his hand, he, in turn, enveloped mine in his. And I prayed. I prayed for peace, for clarity of mind, and for God’s all-consuming calmness to come on him. As my words quieted, he too, with confidence and strength that exceeds any I have known—prayed. When the final “Amen” was said, he grasped my hands a little tighter and generously thanked me.

As the Psalmist writes in Psalm 71, “In You, O LORD, I have taken refuge… Be my rock of refuge, to which I can go … for You have been my hope, O Sovereign LORD, my confidence since my youth” (vv 1,3,5). Preacher conditioned himself over the years to know his God. In Him, he knows who and where he belongs. God is familiar. Familiarity prompts.  It prompts what has well-worn our thoughts, our actions, and becomes embedded in our mind and wall papers our heart.

There WILL be times when life gets unfamiliar—even fearful.  When we too may wander the halls of this unfamiliar world. However, may we all be like Preacher, position and condition, and train to know our God.  When His name is spoken, His word recited, and heavenly conversation suggested— something sparks in us. 

Find Him familiar.

In Him, DeDe (“Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love & good deeds” – Hebrews 10:24).