Treasured Friend,
We've just released the Tenth Anniversary Edition of The Overwhelmed Woman's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents.
Because you stand with us on the caregiving journey, we wanted you to be the first to see the new cover. We're thinking you'll be impressed by the fresh look with a touch of whimsy.
I've spent the better part of the last five months refreshing the book from stem to stern, updating resource lists, interviewing new families, following up with families who shared stories in the original edition, adding dozens of new stories, and creating a spiritual journal to go along with it.
Just this morning, I reached the milestone of completing the last of the new stories, and I wanted to share it with you ... to encourage you on your caregiving journey and maybe to whet your appetite as we lead up to the book's launch.
I hope, then, that you enjoy this excerpt from the chapter titled, "I'll Take Senior Finances for $200, Alex," and I'd ask that you'll keep our team in prayer as we ramp up production of this valuable caregiving resource and approach our release date.
Here's the story, then, for your enjoyment:
I inherited something far more valuable than financial resources from my dad. I think this realization hit me most powerfully on the first Christmas Eve after he went to heaven.
For weeks, I’d been wishing, maybe even praying, that I could just hear his voice one last time. I knew it was silly to even consider it. I kept kicking myself that amidst all the endless hours of caregiving, I’d never had the foresight to record him talking about his life and what he wanted to pass down to me. How many opportunities had I passed up? But alas, I’d only recorded him in a few random snippets on my smart phone. Birthday parties or Christmas dinners—things that were sweet, but devoid of substantive meaning.
That night, as I sat at my desk, I was finishing work on Mom’s Christmas gift. In the 1970s, she spent seven years as a member of a women’s quartet that traveled the Midwest singing in churches, special events, retreats, even on Christian TV. When they were in town and singing at an evening event, Daddy and I would tag along, sit in the front row, and place our Zenith cassette recorder between us. We’d record the program from our seats, and Mom would take that tape to rehearsal the following week so the girls could critique themselves. I’d found a whole box of those tapes, so as a surprise I was capturing them onto digital files for Mom’s gift.
Finally, nearing midnight, I made it to the last tape in the box. It had been recorded on a summer night when I was 16, just getting ready to go off to college. That year, the girls closed their concert with the Gaither song, “Because He Lives.” As they approached the final chorus, one of the sopranos, Sue, chimed in: “Why don’t you all join us?” And so, the audience began singing.
After a few bars, one voice—the one closest to the recorder—rang out, loud and strong, soaring above every other voice in the room. In his sweet baritone, Daddy poured his heart into it, “Because I know—oh—oh—Who holds the future …”
Back in my office that Christmas Eve night, I bawled like a baby as Daddy’s voice continued through the ending, deeding to me what would become my greatest heritage: a declaration that life is worthwhile, and death is nothing to be feared, because Jesus Christ lives.
I suppose the fact of when I unearthed this treasure made it all the more meaningful—and reinforced the awe-inspiring realization that the Lord not only heard the desire of my heart, He’d planned the answer decades before I ever prayed the prayer.
Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.
Matthew 6:8
Blessings and prayers,
Julie
© 2018, Julie-Allyson Ieron. Excerpted by permission from The Overwhelmed Woman's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents, Second Edition. All rights reserved. For reprint permission or to purchase advance copies, email: orders@joymediaservices.com
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