To the Caregiver: I See You — When Chronic Illness Changes Both of Your Lives

When chronic illness enters a person's life, it rarely affects just one person.

It changes routines. Responsibilities shift. Social lives look different. Plans become more complicated. And sometimes the person standing quietly beside the one who is sick experiences enormous changes too.

Today, I want to talk about the people we don't talk about nearly enough:

The caregivers.

The husbands and wives. The parents and children. The family members and friends who quietly step in when someone they love can no longer do everything they once could.

If that's you, I want you to know something:

I see you. And more importantly, God sees you.

When One Person's Life Changes, Both Lives Change

My husband is my primary caregiver.

As my physical needs have increased, his life has changed too.

Responsibilities we once divided are now often his. He works, cooks, cleans, takes care of things around the house—and helps take care of me.

He's naturally a fast-moving man, but he's had to learn to slow down.

He waits for me when we walk. He waits while I do things that take me longer than they once did. He adjusts our plans based on what I'm physically able to do that day.

Our social lives have changed too.

We used to be very active. We hosted people and participated in many activities. As my physical needs increased, much of that changed.

And one of the things I've had to recognize is this:

I'm not the only one who has experienced loss and change because of chronic illness.

He has too.

What Affects Me Affects Him

I've also had to learn that the decisions I make about my health don't affect only me.

If I push myself too hard today and physically pay for it tomorrow, that affects my husband too.

If my physical needs suddenly increase, his responsibilities usually increase with them.

What affects me affects him, and what affects him affects me.

We're in this together.

Interestingly, this difficult season has actually strengthened parts of our marriage.

We've had to communicate more honestly. We've learned greater patience with one another. We've had to talk about needs, expectations, limitations and frustrations that we might otherwise have ignored.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped seeing chronic illness as simply my battle.

It became something we were walking through together.

The Work of a Caregiver Often Goes Unseen

One of the things I've become increasingly aware of is how much a caregiver does that other people never see.

People understandably ask the person who is sick:

"How are you doing?"

But there's another question worth asking:

"How is the person taking care of you doing?"

Other people may not see the meals prepared, the appointments attended, the errands run, the plans canceled, the extra household responsibilities or the interrupted nights of sleep.

Caregivers also have a unique vantage point.

They see the person they love when no one else is around.

They see the pain behind the smile.

They see the exhaustion after everyone else has gone home.

They see how much effort it took just to get dressed or leave the house.

They see the tears, frustration and discouragement.

And they celebrate victories that may seem insignificant to everyone else but feel enormous to the two of you.

Sometimes there isn't anything a caregiver can do to make the illness better.

But there is something incredibly powerful they can offer:

Their presence.

Sometimes love looks like making dinner.

Sometimes it looks like driving to another appointment.

Sometimes it looks like sitting quietly beside someone who is hurting.

And sometimes love simply looks like slowing your pace and saying:

"We're going to walk through this together."

Caregivers Need Care Too

If you're a caregiver, I want you to hear this:

You are allowed to be tired.

Loving someone deeply doesn't mean caregiving isn't exhausting.

You can love someone and still miss parts of the life you had before illness changed things.

You can be committed and still need help.

You can have faith and still have difficult days.

You can be grateful for the person you love and still admit that caregiving is hard.

Jesus gives a beautiful invitation in Matthew 11:28:

"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

That invitation is for the weary caregiver too.

Taking care of yourself doesn't mean you're abandoning the person you love.

You matter too.

A Word to Those of Us Receiving Care

Those of us who receive care have something important to remember as well.

Say thank you.

Notice what your caregiver is doing.

Ask how they are doing.

Encourage them to rest.

Give them permission to spend time doing something they enjoy.

And when possible, remember that our changing physical abilities have required changes from them too.

That doesn't mean we should feel guilty for needing help.

Guilt isn't the goal. Gratitude is.

I'm learning to recognize what a tremendous gift it is to have someone willing to walk more slowly because that's the pace I need today.

When Pain Becomes the Loudest Voice

Chronic pain doesn't only affect the body. It can affect our thoughts, emotions, decisions and relationships.

I've experienced this myself, and I call it "Pain Brain"—those times when pain becomes so loud that it begins consuming our attention and directing our thinking.

Understanding this can be helpful not only for the person experiencing chronic pain, but also for the caregiver trying to understand what their loved one is going through.

I've written more about this in How to Have Hope When Pain Is the Loudest Voice in Your Head.

[READ THE PAIN BRAIN BLOG POST]

If you're a caregiver, I hope it gives you another glimpse into what chronic pain can do to the mind as well as the body.

And if you're the one living with pain, I hope it reminds you that you aren't alone in this struggle.

When You Need Hope for the Journey

Whether you're the person living with chronic illness or the person walking beside them, there may be days when you simply feel weary.

You may love God and still wonder:

How long can I keep doing this?

That's one of the reasons I created the 40-Day Journey to Find Hope.

It's a free 40-day email journey designed to help us intentionally turn our hearts and minds back toward God's Word when circumstances haven't changed the way we hoped.

This isn't about pretending everything is okay.

It's not about manufacturing positive feelings.

It's about learning, one day at a time, to place our hope somewhere stronger than our circumstances.

[START THE FREE 40-DAY JOURNEY TO FIND HOPE]

If you're caring for someone who is struggling, you can walk through the journey yourself or share it with the person you love.

To the Caregiver: Thank You

Chronic illness has changed our marriage.

But in some unexpected ways, it has also brought us closer.

We've learned that marriage isn't always two strong people carrying equal loads.

Sometimes one person carries more.

Sometimes one needs to be held up.

Sometimes the roles change.

And sometimes loving someone means slowing down and matching their pace.

So today, I want to honor the caregivers quietly doing what needs to be done.

Your love matters.

Your sacrifice matters.

Your presence matters.

You may sometimes wonder if anyone notices all the things you do that no one else sees.

God does.

And to those of us receiving that care, perhaps today is a good day to look at the person who has been walking beside us and simply say:

"I see what you do for me. Thank you."

Hold on, friend.

H.O.P.E. — Hold On, Patiently Enduring.

We were never meant to walk these difficult roads alone.

Michelle
Hope for the Weary Heart