Strange as it might sound, contending with Alzheimer’s disease helped me think more clearly.

I was not the patient—my wife was—and I was the primary caregiver. Our struggle continued for almost 20 years. Little did I realize back in 1950 as we made our wedding vows to stand with one another, no matter what, that we would be put to such a test. Each day a bit more of my wife’s very personhood was lost, but God gave me the strength and His own love to enable me to tend her in our home.

Often I was asked how things were going. There were two vastly different replies I could make to that query. I might try to describe what it was like living in a lock-in with a dementia patient. Meaningless babbling all day long, without one sensible phrase. Vigorous or even angry resistance to my most exhausting efforts to clean up toilet accidents. (Better left undescribed.)

I didn’t dare to cast side glances at other couples who were enjoying traveling and recreation. And if I looked ahead to what I wished to accomplish? Such dreams made Jane the hindrance. That must not be! Before the onset of Alzheimer’s, she had been so faithful a wife to me for more than 40 years.

Worse yet, were those disheartening inward looks. I discovered all my resources evaporating, overwhelmed by the test. That one who endlessly paced the house, and who was so devastated by the disease was my wife! The one nearest and dearest to me. There was to be no letup in the trouble. Things would worsen until death parted us.

Only one direction left to look—up! Then I could give a very different answer to the everyday question, “How are things?” Almost everything had changed for me. Being down on my knees thousands of times rendering personal care and service to one of God’s broken ones, was a gift of God to me. Through it, God humbled and disciplined me and thus assured me of His personal love, as Hebrews 12:6 says.

Endless lessons in prayer came each day. Rather than wailing, “I can’t take it!” I learned to plead, “Lord, You take it!” And, He did, coming very close and becoming more real than ever before.

Then, as I offered my service to Jane as loving service to Him, His words came to my heart, “whatever you did for one of the least of these…is done for me” (Mat. 25:40). In addition to that, every day or two Jane attempted to express her love or appreciation to me. Perhaps after a long day of caregiving challenges and the tedium of her endless words and wounds that made no sense, I would be tucking her into bed when my reward came. Just as I finished telling her of my love and gratitude to God that she is my wife, I reassured her of our Savior’s love, and with a beaming smile Jane exploded with, “Oh, I love you!:” In fact her love was so strong and real that it sometimes broke through Alzheimer’s iron grasp, and was deeply meaningful and especially encouraging to me.

In my book Last Light I attempt to reproduce many of our poignant moments together, some very humorous, many wrenching, but all instructive, so that I am able to tell how God taught me what His kind of love is like, and also I catalogue a list of specific lessons learned – too many for this short article. But I would like to close with encouraging truths for readers who may be in deep waters of trial.

Remember, God is not overwhelmed. You and I might feel as if billows are passing over our heads, but don’t panic. Learn to groan without giving up. “For his will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help. He will take pity on the weak and the needy,” (Psalm 72:12-13).

Our testing is not intended to separate us from our Father but to press us nearer to Him. Hebrews 12 assures us with such expressions as: “Do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.” And, “No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” Oh, yes! “It is good to be near God,” (Psalm 73:28).

Steadily, through suffering, God works to refine and bless us. We notice our desperate cries are given a kind hearing. We share a relationship with Him virtually unknown by us before. The unbearable becomes bearable. I Peter 4:19 points the way to a breakthrough:

“So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good.”