Anne LeGare

It’s been almost eleven years since Marc and I embarked on our Central Texas house hunting mission. We probably looked at 20-30 houses in the three towns surrounding “The Great Place,” (Fort Hood, TX), before we found the home God intended for us all along. This home was the “WOW!” house on our list. It was also the one I had penciled “No Way!” in the margin of the flier, because it was beyond our financial reach. In fact, we shopped for two days, and went back to Northern Virginia without a contract or a house that met our needs. So Marc sent me back to Texas to try again. After much prayer, we decided to narrow our hunt to one of the three towns.

But when I returned two weeks later, there were no new homes on the market. We were seriously considering building a house to suit the needs of our seven-member family, when I passed the “WOW” house again. I asked our realtor if I could go look at it one more time … and dream. When we walked into the kitchen, we spied some brand new fliers on the counter. The price of the house had been reduced by $15,000. It was now within our reach! So after negotiations, we purchased it for even less, and we humbly thanked God for the “WOW” house.

Whenever we move into a new home, we pray over each room and ask God to inhabit everything we do in our new dwelling. This time, we acknowledged to God this was His house, and promised we would be faithful to use it for hospitality. We’ve kept that promise, and entertained 400 people in just the first year we lived here. But that was largely because Marc was a battalion commander and we were leaders in the church. We learned the true meaning of “Hospitality” in 2007.

In Hebrews 13:2, we’re commanded: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

What I never noticed before performing an in-depth study of Hebrews is that Biblical hospitality is not about entertaining those we know and love. It’s about strangers. When our family has practiced true hospitality, we’ve been blessed and humbled.

On June 23, 2007, the 1st Cavalry Division lost four young men in Iraq. They were all killed together by an IED. We had the privilege of knowing one of these heroes, Sergeant Joel House. He was one of our Sunday School students, and was a really special, quiet young man from Lee, Maine.

Joel was the type of boy I want my girls to marry. When we learned of his death, we offered our home to his family when they came to the 1^st Cav memorial service for the fallen heroes. The House family asked if they could invite the families of the other three heroes to our home for a small get-together after the memorial service. We were honored to comply.

The memorial service was probably the most emotionally draining event I’ve ever attended. I cried so much I was dehydrated. I couldn’t even imagine what Joel’s family and the other mourners were experiencing. When we got home, Marc and I got to watch the body of Christ at work.

We hired caterers to take care of the food, so cooking wasn’t a problem. Other members of our singles’ Sunday School class, and the 1^st Cav unit brought appetizers, desserts, and drinks, and had used the time we were at the memorial service to prepare the house to receive our guests. Shelby and Debbie Smith and their family helped us serve all night, and stood side-by-side with us through the clean-up. We were the visitors in our home that night. We just stood back, allowed the grieving families to hug, share stories, show pictures, and weep. Freddie Fuller, a local singing cowboy with connections to the soldiers, brought his guitar and played some songs he’d written about their sacrifice. We made lasting friendships that night with the House family and with the Riordan family, who lost their precious Daniel.

Nick and Dan Riordan

That one night, we saw why God allowed us to have this House, we experienced the true blessing of Hospitality, and we were in the rarified presence of Heroes (and perhaps some angels).

TGIF! At our house we feel that way, because it’s the night we host Precept Bible study.  Just this year, we’ve worked our way through Leviticus, then on to Numbers, and back to Genesis.  We’ve taken 22 weeks to get through Genesis Chapter 11!  It’s a strange way to study the Pentateuch, but that’s okay.

My husband once commented that when we finish studying a book of the Bible, we “own” it.  What’s really exciting is when members of our group share their insights concerning the scripture we’ve studied, and Kay Arthur brings out the same points in the accompanying video.  We look at each other, give “high fives” all around, and say: “We have the mind of Kay!”

We all go to church together.  When our Pastor is preaching a message about a subject we’ve covered, or a book of the Bible we “own,” we all look at each other and give smiley “high fives.”   We have the mind of Pastor Mark!

Recently I was listening to a “Way of the Master” radio broadcast. Todd Friel read a true story about a depraved act some teens in England perpetrated.  He then asked callers to call in to tell him the scripture he was thinking about which described the teens’ behavior.  I immediately thought of 2 Timothy 3, and dialed the 800 number to the show.  But at the last minute I changed my mind and offered Romans 1:18.  GONG.  Wrong Answer — on to the next caller.  Later, Todd said he had been thinking of 2 Timothy 3.  Mental “high five!”  I had the mind of Todd!

Isn’t that goofy?  I am a Christian!  I have the mind of Christ!  I have the Holy Spirit living within me, teaching me all about God’s Word, and bringing to mind everything I have learned.  You can have the mind of Christ too.  Trust in Jesus as your Lord and Savior, and repent from your sins. Then read your Bible and “own” it!

1 Cor 2:16 “For who has known the mind of the Lord
that he may instruct him?” But we have the mind of Christ.

I’ve never been very close to my mom. I suspect there are multiple reasons for this, some of which were visited upon her by the sins of her mother and her mother’s mother. Consequently, we’ve never been buds. Now I’m working hard to be a good mom.

I’ve never really corresponded with my mom. Her idea of a letter was to clip an “Ann Landers” column and send it to me with a one-line note. My idea of correspondence was to shove a Christmas card into a box of packages waiting to be mailed. Now I send my adult kids one-line emails. That needs to improve.

I’ve never liked the things my mom likes. She’s crazy about jewelry; for me it’s one more thing to think about when getting dressed. But when my dad divorced her, she sent me her West Point miniature engagement ring, and her wedding band. Now that’s something I liked to receive.

I’ll never fully understood my mom. I’m a singleton and she’s an identical twin. It seems identical twins can’t “leave and cleave,” since they’ve been “married” since the womb. My dad once said “never marry and identical twin – you can’t compete.” Now I’m raising identical twin girls. I hope I raise girls who don’t visit this sin upon future husbands.

I’ve never lived close to my mom since leaving for college at 18. And I’ve never returned to the nest, except for occasional visits for Christmas. After we had five kids, my mom came to us, about once a year, or once a birth, whichever came first. She was a big help, especially with the twins. Now she’s lives 20 miles away at assisted care. That’s close.

I’ve never talked on the phone much with my mom. She would call once every two months whether I needed it or not. I would call in the intervening time, mostly out of guilt. When we talked, I controlled the conversation by my rude behavior, telling her I’d heard her stories before. Now I’m very aware of how my daughters and I communicate.

I’ve never been as brave as my mom. She’s dying an agonizing death in which she knows what’s happening to her, symptom by symptom. Her “death by brain loss,” is like being fully aware that you have Alzheimer’s Disease, and are trapped in the body it produces without the resulting memory loss. Now I think about the treasure of good health and a sound mind.

I’ve never been fully sympathetic to my mom’s plight, even though I’ve been fully aware of her disease progression. Now she has every horrible effect the disease produces. I’ve been told she’ll die in less than a year. I’ve just enrolled her in hospice. This is CBGD:

Cortico-Basal Degeneration by Dr. Basil Ridha, Dementia Research Group
This is a rare progressive neurological disease that causes disturbance of mental processes and motor skills. The disease is named after the areas of the brain that are principally affected. Cortico refers to the cortex, which is the outer layer of the brain, and basal refers to the basal ganglia, which are deep structures in the brain that control motor skills. In these brain regions, there is more significant loss of brain cells than in normal aging. Corticobasal degeneration can present in many ways. It can affect mental processes such a memory, vision perception, speech, organizational skills, personality and behavior. It can also affect motor skills causing rigidity, tremor, clumsiness, limitation of eye movements, involuntary movements, odd posturing of limbs and difficulty walking. A specific symptom that may be present in corticobasal degeneration patients is the ‘alien limb’, where a limb seems to move without control in a mind of its own. In all these movement abnormalities, one side of the body is affected more than the other.

National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke:
There is no treatment available to slow the course of corticobasal degeneration, and the symptoms of the disease are generally resistant to therapy.

I’ve been whining about my mom lately. She’s frustrated and confused. She’s irritable and depressed. She’s yelling at her caretakers and cussing at them. She’s belligerent. When she laughs she chokes. When she cries she chokes. She’s incontinent. She’s very large and hard to manage. Her money is paying for caretakers. Now I eat with her twice a week and play dominoes. My role is small.

I’ve also had an incurable disease. My mom’s known it all along.

I’ve been a baby – my mom’s baby. I was large and incontinent. I didn’t walk until I was 18 months old and weighed 36 pounds. My mother carried me, changed me, and loved me. Now others are doing that for her.

I’ve been a druggie. Just like CBGD, that can affect mental processes such a memory, vision perception, speech, organizational skills, personality and behavior. It can also affect motor skills causing clumsiness, involuntary movements, odd posturing, and difficulty walking. I was frustrated and confused. I was irritable and depressed. My mom never stopped caring for me, cooking for me, or loving me. Since I straightened out 35 years ago, she’s never reminded me of my past. Now she tells me she’s proud of me and that I’m the daughter she always wanted.

I’ve been belligerent. In the days of my horrible disease, I yelled at my mom and cussed at her. There were no paid helpers during that sickly time of my life, just my mom. I was incapable of fixing myself, and there was no cure. My mom provided my assisted care. Her role was large. Now I’m grateful.

I’ve been cured. My disease had a shorter name than CBGD. It was S-I-N, and I nursed it for 30 years, until I met the great physician, healer, comforter, counselor, and friend. This doctor, Jesus Christ, not only healed me, but He forgave me, and gave me a new life. I introduced my mom to Him several months ago. Now it’s time for me to be close to my mom, the one who gave me life, before it’s too late.