kristen feola georgia

While She Still Breathes

May 1, 2015 By Kristen Feola

I sit next to my friend, Georgia, while she sleeps in her bed. Her body is wracked with infection. Her organs are shutting down. She hasn’t been able to eat or drink in more than a week. While Georgia inhales and exhales deeply, I watch. I listen.

In and out, in and out. Every two seconds. Like clockwork.

I think about all the millions of breaths Georgia has taken over the past 80 years. And how God has provided every single one. How he was present with her very first. How He’ll be there during her very last.

The oxygen tank hums. Georgia still breathes.

In and out, in and out.

My eyes drift from my friend to her nightstand. The table is covered with medical supplies: oral swabs, wipes, mouthwash, and a bottle of hand lotion. The lotion catches my eye because of its name – “Cherish the Moment.” I pray aloud. “That’s what I’m trying to do, Lord.”

I look at this woman – this sweet lady that God brought into my life, and I cry. Tears fall because she’s dying. But, more than that, because I don’t know what’s next for her. I’m not sure where Georgia will be when she stops breathing.

Since God brought Georgia into my life in 2010, I’ve talked to her repeatedly about spiritual matters. Although she has always been polite and considerate, she has never showed interest in the things of God. When I first met Georgia, I asked if she believed Jesus died for her sins. She replied, “I’ve never sinned.” I didn’t know if she really meant it or if it was her dementia doing the talking.

You see, Georgia has battled mental illness for decades. From what I can tell, she suffered from some traumatic event in her early 40s and has never been the same since. Medical records list “schizophrenia” as a result. Although I’ve been able to piece together stories from her life, there are many gaps. There are missing pieces.

And the main one is: Has Georgia ever made the decision to follow Christ?

I don’t know.

Georgia doesn’t seem to know.

But God does.

The Lord – the Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Omniscient One – knows every detail of Georgia’s life. He alone knows the condition of her heart. Of anyone’s heart, for that matter.

Last week when Georgia was much more alert and responsive, I told her repeatedly, “God loves you so much. He’s always loved you. Do you believe that?” But, today, she sleeps. I say it anyway.

God brought me this beautiful gift of Georgia, but sometimes I feel I’ve failed Him. Failed her. I want more than anything for her to become a Christian. To be set free from the fear that has kept her bound for many, many years.

But I know it’s not my job to rescue Georgia. It never was. No, my only responsibility is to love her. To laugh with her. To care for her. To sit by her bedside while her sick body slowly deteriorates. To hold her weak, frail hand while she sleeps.

While she still breathes in. While she still breathes out.

Her Name is Georgia, Part 8

January 4, 2011 By Kristen Feola

Many of you are on the Daniel Fast or are getting ready to start it. I’m gearing up to begin on January 9th myself! My plan is to post daily with devotions, recipes, and whatever else might be helpful for your journey with the Lord.

Today, though, I’m continuing the story of Georgia, which is a story I started writing a few weeks ago. If you haven’t read Parts 1-7, take a few minutes to do so before reading today’s post.

Be encouraged today. The Lord is at work all around you. Perhaps there is a Georgia in your life He wants you to touch.

“As we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.” – Galatians 6:10

One morning after I dropped Isabelle off at school, Jocelyn and I stopped by Georgia’s house to surprise her with two Pineapple Citrus Muffins that I’d made. Georgia greeted us at the door.

“Good morning!” I said. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

Georgia nodded, and showed me the opened can of green beans in her hand. The other hand held a fork. This will not do, I thought.

Even though Georgia had assured me that she gets food and snacks while she’s out walking, I seriously doubted that she was eating enough. Also, I’d suspected that her food choices weren’t well balanced or healthy. Therefore, that day I decided that I would deliver meals to her as often as possible. Since I love to cook, it would be a joy for me to serve her in that way.

Jocelyn headed straight for the stuffed animals, as usual, and I went into the kitchen to prepare Georgia’s breakfast. Along with the muffins, I’d brought butter, honey, strawberry jelly, and peanut butter, trying to cover all the bases of what Georgia might like. She chose peanut butter. I poured her a glass of orange juice to go with it.

This particular visit was about a week before Christmas, so most of our conversation that day centered around what presents Isabelle and Jocelyn were hoping to find under the tree. Curious, I asked Georgia, “What do you want for Christmas?” Fully expecting her to say, “Nothing,” I was taken aback by her reply. “A nice family,” she said.

I was speechless. In her reply, I heard much more. Georgia had shared the deepest longing of her heart to me in those three words. What she was really saying was, “I’m lonely for close relationships. I need people in my life who accept me want to spend time with me. That’s the only thing I want.”

Our family isn’t merely doing a good deed by reaching out to Georgia. Nor are we simply demonstrating kindness in practical ways to an elderly woman. We are literally and figuratively wrapping our arms around this precious lady, embracing her with the love of Christ. By opening our hearts to Georgia and meeting her practical needs, we’re inviting her into our home, into our lives, and into our family.