He Built Our House. Dementia Is Unbuilding His.

My Uncle John has always been big in my life. He even built our home — every part of it his idea even if someone else laid the actual bricks. And every time I walk through the door of my home I remember him. At the same time, he's finding it harder to remember these days as his memories are being unbuilt by dementia.

In my family, growing up, only my mum was a follower of Jesus. Then God worked in a mighty way in Uncle John's life, and he started following Jesus too — and many others did after him. He studied at our local theological college, became a lay preacher in his church, and has served there for years. He's always been a big character, not only in our family, but (and I'm not sure if he remembers this any more) but he's one of the mighty in Perth Heat's Hall of Fame. After my grandad died, he became our family's patriarch.

I visited him in hospital the other day. The one who was such a big presence in our lives, we now need to manage, almost like a toddler in some ways. I'm 46 and I already fail to remember things from 20 years ago. But it's different with dementia. He will just fail to remember more, and more, and more. He's up against something too mighty for modern medicine to heal. The grief for his family, our family, is so very real.

So we turned to that great Psalm of comfort, and reading Psalm 23 together we remembered a Good Shepherd who never forgets his people, even when they're out of sight in the darkest of valleys. He can't forget us because He's omniscient — all knowing. In the same way that he's omnipresent — so big he's everywhere at the same time. And omnipotent — all mighty. There's nothing our God cannot do. It's something we remember in the resurrection of Jesus, when he went to make a home for us in John 14.

And as I was driving home that day it struck me that one day Uncle John will rise as Christ is risen. And he will remember. He will remember all he forgot. He will remember God's faithfulness and love. He'll remember his families visits, their commitment, their love and care. He will remember it all in a single moment as his mortal body is made like Christ our God's resurrection body. Is not our God just so big, and so mighty?

Along with this, I was struck by the provilege of my Uncle John — so big and mighty in my life — now inviting me, at the end of his, into his weakness and forgetfulness. I was reminded that our God who is so big and so mighty, in the cross, invited us into his own weakness and the humiliation of sufferings too. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" It seems he felt forgotten.

I'm going back to see Uncle John next week. Maybe we'll read Psalm 23 again? Though, I can't help but wonder as I write this... I wonder if he'll remember that strong song many of us learned as kids and remember still:

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there's nothing our God can not do.

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In the ordinary,

Nick