Welcome to Issue Two of REGIFTED GRACE: The Magazine, written to strengthen those who encourage others. Are you a caregiver? Do you love someone with a terminal illness, including dementia?

CLICK HERE: http://pub.lucidpress.com/regiftedgraceissuetwo/

REGIFTED GRACE was launched to remind you that you’re not alone, to offer resources and research, and to let you know you are appreciated and loved. Most of the contributors have walked through times of loss, grief, caregiving, and more. In other words, we may have walked in your shoes and want to help you discover the value and collateral beauty in serving others.

Issue Number Two includes a son’s frustration with his dad’s disease, a mom’s pain through the loss of her infant daughter, how to experience grace, a daughter’s discovery of defining moments, a daughter’s touching realization in caregiving for her mom, a woman’s journey in growing her faith in God, and special devotion nuggets.

The grace is always greener on God’s side!

We would love to hear from you. We are accepting submissions for future issues, and please let us know if you have a topic or question that you’d like us to tackle in future issues. Be richly blessed.

In caregiving, embracing meekness and purging spiritual toxins helped me locate flashes of peace in moments of turbulence. It brought me closer to Jesus because I became more like Jesus. What happens if we put too much air and pressure in a balloon? It pops. Without meekness, pressure builds up and we emotionally break. Embracing meekness (a fruit of the Spirit) deflates the pressure.

It’s okay to fight with a disease like Alzheimer’s or cancer–for a season. There were plenty of times I wanted to kick the daylights out of that foul disease for stealing both my parents. Instead, ultimately God wanted me to adorn myself with the virtue of meekness, moving forward with gentleness and resiliency. It is better to diffuse than to be right or to fight. I don’t want to inhibit others or myself from encountering intimacy with God.

People do detoxes to regain physical health and remove poisonous toxins which build up over time. Removing physical toxins can be harsh—with headaches, fatigue, intestinal issues, even depression. We feel lousy before we feel better.

Similarly, purging spiritual toxins like pride, self-gratification, jealousy, and unforgiveness is necessary to maintain spiritual health. These toxins drop into our spirit like a cat jumping on the countertop when no one is watching—we don’t see it happening, but we see the destruction left behind. Spiritual toxins hinder our ability to abide in God’s grace, and they must be continually purged. Like physical toxins, spiritual toxins accumulate without recognizing them until something is unhealthy or broken. A doctor shows us our physical toxins—God directs us to our spiritual ones.

Want to read more? “UNDEFEATED INNOCENCE” (ch. 4, pp.46-47)

https://amzn.to/2WZBTEc

God didn’t create us to be bogged down by turbulence.

I loved spending the last years of my parents’ lives with them, but caregiving often left me at the end of my rope—the perception of not being able to take another step because my soul was numb from the heaviness. The end of the rope requires us to expend emotional energy solely on survival and the need to find something greater than ourselves to carry the load. That’s Jesus.

Jesus demonstrates abundant grace through the worst storms. But I must be willing to reach the end of myself, for when I get there, He’s there with an endless pitcher of grace to pour out. He has one with your name on it, too.

There are times when it seems like giving up is easier than dealing with a life that becomes a puzzle with half of the pieces missing. In those times, God wants me to call out for Him so He can bring heaven to me. He feels my tears. He wants me to experience the tidal wave of His protection.

Fortunately, I learned that when I’m poor in spirit and call out for God’s help, God won‘t say, “How can I break you?” Instead, He says, “How can I help you?” His offer of help welcomes me into His presence, and heaven becomes my permanent address.

Excerpt: UNDEFEATED INNOCENCE (ch. 1, pp.18-20)

Please share your comments below in response to either or both of these two questions:

What storm are you facing?

What do you want God to do for you?

© 2019 Regifted Grace® Ministry LLC

We help weary caregivers find the courage they need to regain hope and stop feeling alone, fearful and broken.

God desires my obedience, not a burnt offering of hardship and physical sacrifice. He is most pleased when I humbly lead others toward His grace. This devotion was published by The Christian Broadcasting Network on 11 December 2018.

I read their gut-wrenching words and pound my fists. I walked in their shoes, yet sit clueless how I should take away their agony. I despise “should” because it’s a word of shame. But that’s how I feel — ashamed that I can’t find words to help them. So goes another morning on a social media dementia support group.

Someone needs prayer because her loved one wandered away. Another aches because his loved one passed. Another regrets complaining how hard it was to be a caregiver — now all she wishes for is one more smile or “I love you.” Some feel their sacrifice is killing them and can’t wait until it’s over.

So, my heart cries.

Online support groups were a lifeline during my mom’s Alzheimer’s battle as I tried to balance her needs with mine. But balance is subjective. The disease caused my mom to weave from side to side as she walked down a hallway, and it caused me to emotionally weave from side to side when I responded to emergencies and balanced them with work, marriage, and sleep.

I stay in these support groups hoping to help them all — I was a caregiver! But on this morning, I was clueless. I was an eyewitness to this wretched disease twice. Yet I felt failure, which contradicted my belief that God called me to minister to caregivers.

So God took me for a walk — me, Him and the worship music playing in my ears. Coincidence that Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns played on my playlist? God knows when we feel like we tried again and failed. I heard the lies: I’m no good at ministry or writing, and I can’t help anybody. 

He reminded me that He calls us for His purpose (Romans 8:28). He didn’t choose me to do everything for everyone. That’s His job. Mine is to contribute in accordance with the calling He gives me. I can help some of the people some of the time, but I can’t help all of the people all of the time. Only God does that. He has called me to write, point caregivers to God’s grace, and encourage them to find collateral beauty instead of collateral damage. If they rebuke God’s grace, I move on. Even Jesus moved on.

God desires my obedience, not my sacrifices. Obedience is a response to a request to do something. Sacrifice causes or permits injury for the sake of something else. God said,

“For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, …” Hosea 6:6 (NIV)

and that we are to

“Walk in obedience to all I command you, …” Jeremiah 7:23 (NIV)

Caregiving is physically grueling, mentally exhausting, and spiritually depleting. I wasn’t asked to sacrifice my life for it, only be obedient. 

Sacrifice is Jesus — sent to earth alone to die broken and alone in order for us to receive eternal life. 

Obedience was Abraham’s willingness to kill his son, or Daniel’s concession to spend a night in the lion’s den because he was unwilling to stop praying, or my determination to take Mom’s frantic calls when she didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. Jesus said,

“… whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40 (NIV)

That’s collateral beauty. That’s obedience. 

God didn’t call me to help everyone, just lead them toward God’s grace. What I gave to my parents and Jesus was obedience (a living sacrifice), not a killing sacrifice (a burnt offering).

“And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8 (NIV)

And the support groups? If God leads me to respond, I will. If God leads me to be quiet, I will. I will rest in obedience to the one who sacrificed it all and share God’s grace and mercy with them through my obedience to Him. 

Copyright © 3/2018 Cheryl Crofoot Knapp and Regifted Grace Ministry LLC.

“Hello? This is the nursing station. We need to talk to you about your dad.”

(more…)

“God, I’m in awe of you tonight.” My words were soft and filled with gratitude.

I gazed at the unfamiliar sparkle on the lake and the crisp azure sky that met it at the horizon. The trees were dressed in their sharpest array of greens, and even their uniquely shaped knotholes were exotically enticing. My whole world changed in 36 hours. Cataract surgery in my right eye replaced my triple vision with a crisp 20/20. And I was in awe of what I could see in a way I had never seen before, for peace, and for answered prayer.

I’ve worn glasses since third grade, and squinted at least since age 3 (picture above). Many prescriptions later, my right eye could no longer be restored without surgery. What I wasn’t expecting from surgery is that I can now see better than I had ever seen in my entire life. Six decades of various levels of blurry vision was gone. At least in my right eye. And everything looks different. (more…)

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest,” Jesus said (Mark 6:31 NIV). For the last two years, my annual quiet place to get some rest has been at the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference. This year was more powerful than the last in many respects, and I can only give you a bird’s eye view of how it changed me.

(DiAnn Mills, Cheryl Crofoot Knapp, and Edie Melson; photo by Mary Denman, Photographer)

Why do I need to find a place for quiet and rest? First, I’m still working through the loss of my parents to Alzheimer’s and learning how to recover from that “thing” called caregiving, which was filled with collateral beauty, but I wouldn’t call it a place for quiet and rest. I’m still weary, I still grieve, and I still need rest. Second, my passion to stretch my arms out wide to encourage caregivers through writing and speaking gained legs at this year’s conference. (more…)