My Dad loves to drive. Even now at 86 years old and just weeks after having a knee replacement, he is back behind the wheel. He has always liked driving, but as he grew older and past retirement age, his actions behind the wheel seemed to get more aggressive, and he appeared to take more risks. Thus, he would spin out of the driveway, accelerate down the street full bore, only to meet the stop sign (that had been there for dozens of years) 15 houses down with a big slam of the brakes, then off again full speed. If you had been relegated to the back seat, as I was during my annual visits to spend time with them, this resulted in being thrown back in the seat on acceleration, only to bounce forward at every braking – often leaving me feeling greenish around the gills from all the lurching. This also coincided with a stage in my Mum’s Alzheimer’s Disease that left her restless and agitated. The only thing that calmed her down was…… going for a drive in the car. She would stand by the front door, pacing up and down on the spot until we were in the car for yet another drive. So, much of my visits were spent lurching here and there, with Mum content in the front seat, Dad enjoying himself driving like a rally driver and me nearly needing a bucket in the back seat. It often felt like we were sailing through intersections leaving a trail of hooting horns and possible destruction, as Dad defied the laws of traffic and common sense. This was confirmed to me when one of my adult sons was with us, and crawled from the car looking decidedly ill and stuttering…”but, but, but…”.
Now this could have been a time of fear for me, but I had to make a decision. Live in fear at least three times a day while driving with my Dad, or putting my trust in my Heavenly Father. And that is what I did. I am confident that my times are in His hands – and His hands are big enough to hold me safe. Once I made my mind up on that – I didn’t have to fear my Dad’s driving. I can’t say I ever really enjoyed it that much, but the fear was gone.
And now, it is time to bring that thought back to mind – my times are in His hands.
The chemo I have been taking for the last 3 months is not working and has had some very rugged side effects. It is no longer an option to continue. My lovely Oncologist has made it clear our options for further medical treatment are at an end.
So what can I do, but put my trust in Him who made me and knows me inside and out and who knows – my times are in His hands. Now this doesn’t mean I am about to fall off the perch tomorrow – but we are looking at months rather than years. And I have every intention of enjoying each day that I have, and seeking to be a blessing to those around me. I have much to be grateful for – I am fairly comfortable, have good care and am surrounded by people who love me. So we are good, and ready to keep on living right to the end. Starting now!