LOVE

Last weekend we were staying in Utah at my sister Ellie‘s apartment, and it was so good to be with her, but when we stay there, the living situation is not ideal for my mom. I would say it is not ideal for me, but I’m not the one lifting a wheelchair up and down the steps or transferring a full grown man on and off the couch. She lives in a basement apartment, and that means stairs.  I was sleeping on the couch, which is quite a bit lower than my chair, so my mom was doing some heavy lifting. Every time we would leave the apartment she would bump me up the stairs. Every time we came back to the apartment, she would bump me down the stairs. Every time I transferred on and off the couch, she was doing the work. Without the hoyer lift there, she was also manually transferring me onto my portable poop chair. When it came time to shower, she had to lean my chair back, grab a bucket and a pitcher, and manually wash my hair. Then I had to get dressed on the couch. Nobody who hasn’t experienced this has any idea how much effort it takes. I am a lot of work to take care of, but here’s where it gets good.

On Saturday, after the bowel care and shower routine, Laura sighed in relief. That night, we decided to eat Indian food. I hadn’t eaten much that day, so I definitely should’ve been more conscientious of what I was eating, but let’s just say spicy food on an empty stomach was not the move. It was delicious, but I ate a little more than I probably should have. When we got home, the unmistakable “shivers” I dread suddenly began. You may have already guessed where this is going. My mom rushed into a sleeping baby’s room to grab gloves, wipes, bed pads, and garbage bags, only to find out that there are no gloves left.

Barehanded, my parents transferred me onto the ground, cut my underwear off with scissors, and proceeded to clean me off. This is always a very humbling experience for me, and kills my mood 10/10 times. I said in my mind, “Who would ever choose me? What could possibly make someone want to do this life with me?” 

As I laid there staring at the ceiling feeling bad for my parents and for myself, I noticed a picture on the wall. It was of Jesus.

That’s when it came to me. LOVE. Love is the most powerful thing in the universe, “for God is love.” It is the driving force behind everything anyone does. Why does my mom do it? LOVE.  Why would anyone want to marry me despite my challenges? LOVE. 

God loved us so he sent his Son. This truth cannot be overstated. Why did God send His Son? LOVE. It is why parents sacrifice for their children, why friends stick with us in our darkest hours, and why Christ gave His life for us all. Love is the highest law and the only thing that will never fail, for “charity never faileth.”

In that moment, looking at the picture of Jesus, I was overcome with a feeling of joy in a hard  moment. Thats what Jesus does. He is the Light. He is my joy. He is my teacher. 

I realized that the love my mom shows me is only a glimpse of His. Just as she knelt on the floor to help me when I was at my lowest, He descended below ALL things to lift and cleanse us when we are at ours. His love is perfect. I know His love is real. I see it every day. 

Look for love. Notice the sacrifices others make for you. Choose to show love in ways that may cost you something. And most of all, seek Christ’s love. When you find love, you find Him.