From July 2005 to July 2007, I stepped out of my comfort zone and into a world I knew little about. I worked as a research assistant for a longitudinal study on Alzheimer’s disease at Rush Hospital. It was completely different from my field, yet God was preparing me in ways I didn’t understand then. I am a communicator by nature—I love to talk—and that’s exactly what the job required. Each day, I conducted two 2½-hour scripted interviews with participants. We had to ask the same deeply personal questions year after year.
The participants couldn’t already have dementia or Alzheimer’s, and they had to be at least sixty-five years old. What fascinated me most was not just the science—it was the humanity. The heart. My question then, and still now, remains: What will you remember when you forget?
Alzheimer’s first steals your short-term memory. But your long-term memories—those engraved in your heart—often linger. So what will your heart remember when your mind forgets?
I remember one Thanksgiving afternoon, sitting with my late husband’s stepfather, Charlie. He was almost eighty-one and helping me cut sweet potatoes. He told the same childhood story over and over—each time with the same sparkle in his eyes and gratitude in his voice. I listened each time like it was brand new. His memories of his mother’s love watered the soil of my own heart. He didn’t know it, but he had saved my life years earlier when my late husband told him not to leave me while I was pregnant. I loved him dearly, and he loved me and my boys. That memory, I’ll always keep.
Later, I thought of another moment that forever marked me. I was in Minnesota assessing a priest who had been both a social worker and a priest for thirty-eight years. As I finished wrapping up my laptop cord, he looked at me and said in this deep, commanding voice, “Dear, do you know you have a gift?” I laughed lightly and asked, “What gift is that?” He said, “You have a gift of ease. I’ve never felt so comfortable sharing with anyone like I did with you today.”
That word stayed with me. A gift of ease. It wasn’t something I’d ever read in the Bible, but I would later learn that this grace would serve me well in my calling—it was a shadow of my eternal assignment in heaven.
One question from those interviews still echoes in my spirit:
“Were you the type of person who stood up for what you believed, regardless of the consequences?”
If I were on the other side of that interview, my answer would be a resounding yes. Like David, I would say, Is there not a cause? I’ve always been willing to stand for truth, to fight for generations now and those to come. Caleb and Joshua believed they were well able to overcome the giants in their land, and God honored their faith. It took time, but they received every promise. They remembered what He had done for them in Egypt—and that remembrance carried them through.
You’re writing on the hearts of everyone who loves you. One day, if their mind forgets, may their heart still remember your love, your faith, your courage.
So slay your giants. Fall in love. Chase your Mavericks. Don’t be afraid to try again.
Stand for what you believe.
And never forget what your heart remembers.