The idea of frail can be a legitimate adjective that follows us older folks around, tugging at our sleeves and asking for our attention. But once we grant that thought its place in our self-concepts, it can crawl into our brains like attitudinal kudzu—climbing/winding/vining its way into nooks and crannies where other ideas and emotions would like to prosper.
Frail can be both an accurate measure of our physical strength and at the same time an attitudinal weed that doesn’t belong. On the one hand, it’s honest for us to admit when we are feeble, weak or vulnerable. It’s also conceivable that we too-easily accept the proposition that frail elder is the best way to describe who we are.
It’s possible that we could be dealing with debilitating physical conditions, but have perhaps forgotten about the parts of us that are still strong, useful and admirable. You know folks like this: No matter what parts of their bodies or minds aren’t working all that well, there’s still something wonderfully strong and active down deep inside of them. If we know where and how to look, we can discover those traits still roiling the surface, bubbling, useful and joyful.
Treating frail folks with respect is good—we don’t want our quiet visits to turn into dance contests or track meets. Also important, though: Doing the work necessary to find out where any elder’s thriving strengths are waiting to be found and honored.
That discovery starts with good questions, a curious mind and patience. Once found, the not-frail parts of every one of us can continue to glorify our Creator. We can still find outlets for bringing godly good into the world!
That’s how I want to treat everyone I meet. How I want to be known, too….
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