I have spent the last four days in the Alzheimer’s abyss with my mother. It’s a deep dark place. The last seven months have been really good, with the last thirty days what I would call desirable.
The situation started with buying a new television. My mother went to the store with us to buy it. When she couldn’t remember the purchase of the television, but realized there was a new television she became enraged because my stepfather did not include her in the decision.
My mother kept saying that she has been asking him for a television just like that. She wanted to know who he bought it for and we kept repeating that it was for her. One attempt I made to blow it off was to say it was a surprise, but that wasn’t how she wanted it. She wanted to be the one to pick it out. Again, it was exactly what she wanted and still she is pissed that she didn’t get to pick it.
As I scratched my head wondering why in the world would it matter how the television got there. If exactly what you desire shows up, why would you torture everyone around you because it did?
I realized for a moment what it must be like for God when I stand there pointing at something that I really want and God just keeps saying “It’s right there, in front of you. It’s yours take it, enjoy it,”
I can think of examples in the past when what I desire appears, but I can’t see it. I mean I can see it, but I can’t accept it as mine because it just appeared.
It surprised me how many examples I could come up with.
I can see others doing the same who don’t have Alzheimer’s. Couples who couldn’t ask for more in a partnership and yet they keep asking when will the perfect partner will appear.
That is why I call this blocked vision “spiritual dementia.” When we were children we didn’t worry about how things arrived or appeared, we just loved and enjoyed them when they did show up. We didn’t even care if a fat old man climbed down our chimney to deliver it. We didn’t mind when we found out that the old man never existed, that it was our parents who really placed the gifts under the tree. We still accepted and enjoyed the abundance.
I’m guessing that as I grew older my spirit forgot about this rule of manifestation. I got busy with the tangible and manipulative role that I get to play in the world and I didn’t include my spirit in any of the process. It created a separation and so I stopped hearing spirit.
The great thing about spirit though is that it hears me regardless.
Great wake up call.
The result of this week’s torture was that it gave me the ability to practice the patience that God does as he watches us scream for what we want, even though it is right in front of us, within our reach, and very much ours.