Stepping Into the Storm I Didn’t See Coming, With the God Who Did

 Let me begin with this: I’ve been a caregiver for more than 42 years to my oldest daughter, who has Down Syndrome. Together — with my second husband, a blessing I never expected and a direct answer to prayer — we’ve walked through heart failure, pneumonia (more than once), yearly bouts of bronchitis, and COVID three times. One of those times, we truly feared the disease would win. But by God’s grace, and with so many prayers storming the Throne Room, she came home. She is doing well.

All of that to say this: I thought I understood caregiving. I thought I knew the terrain. I’ve done well-ish, but, as the saying goes…"you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

Three months ago, I received a call from a dear friend of my sister-in-law, a woman nearly in tears as she described the changes she’d been witnessing. There was no anger, no judgment, only love and deep concern for a lifelong friend. She believed the family needed to step in now.

When I hung up, I prayed. I told God that if this was the road ahead, I would step into it. I asked Him to use me, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.

By early December, our household had grown by two: my sister-in-law and her dog. Her arrival was rushed — our nieces had only a small window to make the ten-hour trip here and back — and from that moment on, I became a full-fledged helicopter mom.

All those years raising my daughters, I thought I knew stress. I thought I knew anxiety, frustration, exhaustion. Turns out, those were the easy days. My sister-in-law began showing behaviors that reminded me of a combination of both my girls — frustration at being restricted, irritation at not being able to come and go freely, resistance to being told what can and can’t be done (especially when it comes to the animals). The stress has been real.

BUT.

God has been faithful to give me a peace I have never known before.

Let me be honest: I have a temper. It can be loud and sudden. But since she’s been here, it hasn’t surfaced. Not once. What I feel isn’t anger — more like a mom’s mix of annoyance, frustration, and the need to apply gentle discipline. Still, no harsh words, no raised voice. That alone is a miracle.

I don’t know where this path called dementia will lead us. I do know that everything I’ve done for my daughter — everything I still do — was the prerequisite for Caregiver 2.0. I know my church family is a blessing beyond measure. I know support groups exist for when I need them.

But more than anything, I know this:

The Rock of Ages, Jehovah Jireh, my loving Father, is walking this road with me.

He is guiding me with His Spirit.

He is protecting my family.

He is sustaining me.

Will there be days when I slip into my closet, sit in a corner, and cry my eyes out? Absolutely. But I also know this: guiding my sister-in-law through the hardest transition of her life is something I’ve been trained for — not by textbooks or seminars, but by life, by love, and by God’s mercy.

And He will provide everything needed… including whatever sanity tries to wander off