Before mom went into a nursing home, week by week, her dementia worsened.  Her frantic early morning phone calls communicated confusion, agitation, and ever-increasing fear.

As her calls became more frenetic, my fear for her safety and well-being intensified.

Again and again, I prayed for her safety.  I reminded myself that mom had belonged to Jesus since she was young, and that God had taken care of her all her life.  Logically, I knew God could be trusted with her care now.  Yet shortly after praying, fearful thoughts returned.

One night I fell asleep, only to wake a few hours later.  Anxious thoughts swirled, and fearful “what if” scenarios played like a video in my mind:  Would mom wake in the night in confusion, and do something that might harm herself or someone else?  If she got up and left her apartment, would her caretaker wake up and help her back to bed?

I tried to pray the Lord’s prayer, but my mind refused to stay focused on the words.  Instead, as if drawn like a magnet, my thoughts insisted on returning to images that created fear and worry.

Finally in exhaustion, I prayed “God, help me!”  Silently, the words came to me:  “I am Yours, You are mine.”

My mind easily focused on those few words.  God loved me, and He loved mom.  I didn’t need to pray again.  I didn’t need to worry any more.  God had heard my prayers for mom’s safety, and He held her in His care.  All was well.