Living by Vows

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    After his wife was diagnosed with Alzheimers disease,

    Columbia International University President Robertson

    McQuilkin found himself torn between two commitments,

    two divine callings. At the request of the editors of

    Christianity Today, Mr. McQuilkin shares his story.

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    ...we would trust the Lord to work a miracle in Muriel

    if He so desired, or work a miracle in me if He did not.

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    It has been a decade since thatday, during a Florida vacation,when Muriel, my wife, repeatedto the couple we were visiting thestory she had told just five minutes

    earlier. Funny, I thought, thatsnever happened before. But itbegan to happen occasionally.

    Three years later, when Murielwas hospitalized for tests on herheart, a young doctor called measide. You may need to think about

    the possibility of Alzheimers, hesaid. I was incredulous. Theseyoung doctors are so presumptuous

    and insensitive. Muriel was doingthe same things she had alwaysdone, for the most part. True, wehad stopped entertaining in ourhomeno small loss for the

    president of a thriving Seminaryand Bible College. She was agreat cook and hostess, but shewas having increasing difficultyplanning menus. Family mealsshe could handle, but with guestswe could not risk missing a saladand dessert, for example.

    And, yes, she was having uncom-mon difficulty painting a portrait ofme, which the college and seminaryboardimpressed by her earliersplendid portrait of my predecessorhad requested. But Alzheimers?While I had barely heard of the dis-

    ease, a dread began to lurk aroundthe fringes of my consciousness.

    When her memory deterioratedfurther, we went to Joe Tabor, aneurologist friend, who gave her

    the full battery of tests and, byelimination, confirmed that shehad Alzheimers. But because shehad none of the typical physicaldeterioration, there was somequestion. We went to the DukeUniversity Medical Center, believing

    we should get the best availablesecond opinion. My heart sank asthe doctor asked her to name theGospels and she looked pleadinglyat me for help. But she quicklybounced back and laughed at herself.She was a little nervous, perhaps, butnothing was going to get her down.

    This time I accepted the verdict.And I determined from the outsetnot to chase around the countryafter every new miracle treatmentwe might hear about. Little did Iknow the day was coming whenwe would be urgedon average,once a weekto pursue every vari-

    ety of treatment: vitamins, exor-cism, chemicals, this guru, thathealer, the other clinic. How couldI even look into them all, let alonepursue them? I was grateful tofriends who made suggestions,because each was an expression

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    f h

    of love. But for us, we wouldtrust the Lord to work a miraclein Muriel if He so desired, or work

    a miracle in me if He did not.One day the WMHK stationmanager, the program manager,and the producer of my wifesmorning radio program, LookingUp, asked for an appointment. Iknew an occasional program shehad produced was not used, but

    the response to her monologue ofupbeat encouragement continued tobe strong. Though the program wasdesigned for women, businessmenoften told me how they arrangedtheir morning affairs so they couldcatch the program.

    As the appointment began, the

    three executives seemed uneasy.After a few false starts, I caughton. They were reluctantly lettingme know that an era was ending.Only months before they hadtalked of national syndication. Itried to help them out. Are youmeeting with me to tell us thatMuriel cannot continue? Theyseemed relieved that their painfulmessage was out and none of themhad to say it. So, I thought, her

    public ministry is over. No moreconferences, TV, radio. I shouldhave guessed the time had come.

    She did not think so, however.

    She was disappointed

    with each failure

    and frustration, but

    only momentarily.

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    She is such a delight to

    me. I dont have to care

    for her, I get to.

    f

    She may have lost the radio pro-gram, but she insisted on acceptinginvitations to speak, even though

    invariably she would come homecrushed and bewildered that hertrain of thought was lost and thingsdid not go well. Gradually, reluc-tantly, she gave up public ministry.

    Still, she could counsel the manyyoung people who sought her out,she could still drive and shop, or

    write her children. The letters didnot always make sense, but then,the children would say, Momalways was a bit spacy. She alsovolunteered to read textbooks fora blind graduate student. The planwas to put them on tape so thatothers could use them. I was puzzled

    that those responsible never usedthem, until it dawned on me thatreading and writing were goingthe way of art and public speaking.She was disappointed with eachfailure and frustration, but onlymomentarily. She would bounceback with laughter and haveanother go at it.

    Muriel never knew what washappening to her, though occasionallywhen there was a reference toAlzheimers on TV she would musealoud, I wonder if Ill ever havethat? It did not seem painful for her,

    but it was a slow dying for me to

    watch the vibrant, creative, articulateperson I knew and loved graduallydimming out.

    I approached the college boardof trustees with the need to beginthe search for my successor. I toldthem that when the day came thatMuriel needed me full-time, shewould have me. I hoped that wouldnot be necessary until I reachedretirement, but at 57 it seemed

    unlikely I could hold on until 65.They should begin to make plans.But they intended for me to stayon forever, I guess, and made nomove. Thats not realistic, and

    probably not very responsible,

    I thought, though I appreciatedthe affirmation.

    So began years of struggle withthe question of what should besacrificed: ministry or caring forMuriel. Should I put the kingdomof God first, hate my wife and, forthe sake of Christ and the kingdom,arrange for institutionalization?Trusted, lifelong friendswiseand godlyurged me to do this.

    Muriel would become accus-tomed to the new environment

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    k d

    quickly. Would she? Wouldanyone love her at all, let alonelove her as I do? I had often seen

    the empty, listless faces of thoselined up in wheelchairs along thecorridors of such places, waiting,waiting for the fleeting visit of someloved one. In such an environment,Muriel would be tamed only withdrugs or bodily restraints, of thatI was confident.

    People who do not know me wellhave said, Well, you always said,God first, family second, ministrythird. But I never said that. Toput God first means that all otherresponsibilities He gives are first,too. Sorting out responsibilitiesthat seem to conflict, however, is

    tricky business.In 1988 we planned our first

    family reunion since the sixchildren had left home, a week ina mountain retreat. Muriel delightedin her children and grandchildren,and they in her. Banqueting withall those gourmet cooks, makinga quilt that pictured our life, sceneby scene, playing games, singing,picking wild mountain blueberrieswas marvelous. We planned it asthe celebration of our fortiethanniversary, although it was actuallythe thirty-ninth. We feared that by the

    fortieth she would no longer know us.

    But she still knows usthreeyears later. She cannot comprehendmuch, nor express many thoughts,

    and those not for sure. But sheknows whom she loves, and livesin happy oblivion to almost every-thing else.

    She is such a delight to me. Idont have to care for her, I getto. One blessing is the way she isteaching me so muchabout love,

    for example, Gods love. She picksflowers outsideanyonesandfills the house with them.

    Lately she has begun to pick theminside, too. A friend had given us abeautiful Easter lily, two stems withfour or five lilies on each, and moreto come. One day I came into the

    kitchen and there on the windowsill over the sink was a vase with astem of lilies in it. Ive learned togo with the flow and not correctirrational behavior. She means noharm and does not understand whatshould be done, nor would sheremember a rebuke. Nevertheless,Idid the irrationalI told her howdisappointed I was, how the lilieswould soon die, the buds wouldnever bloom and please do notbreak off the other stem.

    The next day our youngest son,soon to leave for India, came from

    Houston for his next-to-last visit.

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    I have a theory that the

    characteristics developed

    across the years come

    out at times like these.

    h l h

    I told Kent of my rebuke of hismother and how bad I felt aboutit. As we sat on the porch swing,

    savoring each moment together,his mother came to the door witha gift of love for me: she carefullylaid the other stem of lilies on thetable with a gentle smile and turnedback into the house. I said simply,Thank you. Kent said, Youredoing better, Dad!

    Muriel cannot speak in sentencesnow, only in phrases and words,and often words that make littlesense: no when she means yes,for example. But she can say onesentence, and she says it often:I love you.

    She not only says it, she acts it.

    The board arranged for a companionto stay in our home so I could godaily to the office. During thosetwo years it became increasinglydifficult to keep Muriel home. Assoon as I left, she would take outafter me. With me she was content;without me, she was distressed,sometimes terror stricken. Thewalk to school is a mile round trip.She would make that trip as manyas ten times a day. Sometimes atnight, when I helped her undress,I found bloody feet. When I toldour family doctor, he choked up.

    Such love, he said simply. Then

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    after a moment, I have a theorythat the characteristics developedacross the years come out at times

    like these. I wish I loved God likethatdesperate to be near him atall times. Thus she teaches me,day by day.

    Friends and family often ask,How are you doing? meaning, Iwould take it, How do you feel?I am at a loss to respond. There

    is that subterranean grief that willnot go away. I feel just as aloneas if I had never known her as shewas, I suppose, but the lonelinessof the night hours comes becauseI did know her. Do I grieve her lossor mine? Further there is the sorrowthat comes from my increasing

    difficulty in meeting her needs.But I guess my friends are ask-

    ing not about her needs, but aboutmine. Or perhaps they wonder, inthe contemporary jargon, how Iam coping, as they reflect onhow the reputed indispensablecharacteristics of a good marriagehave slipped away, one by one.

    I came across the commoncontemporary wisdom in thismornings newspaper in a letterto a national columnist: I endedthe relationship because it wasntmeeting my needs, the writer

    explained. The counselors response

    Had I not promised,

    42 years before, in

    sickness and in health

    till death do us part?

    l

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    was predictable: What were yourneeds that didnt get met by him inthe relationship? Do you still have

    these same needs? What would hehave to do to fill these needs? Canhe do it? Needs for communication,understanding, affirmation, commoninterests, sexual fulfillmentthelist goes on. If the needs are not met,split. He offered no alternatives.

    I once reflected on the eerie

    irrelevance of every one of thosecriteria for me. But I am notwired for introspection; I ammore oriented outward and towardaction and the future. I even feelan occasional surge of exhilarationas I find my present assignmentmore challenging than running

    an institutions complex ministry.Certainly greater creativity andflexibility are needed.

    I have long lists of copingstrategies, which have to bechanged weekly, sometimes daily.Grocery shopping together mayhave been recreation, but it is notso much fun when Muriel beginsto load other peoples carts andtake off with them, disappearinginto the labyrinth of supermarketaisles. Or how do you get a personto eat or take a bath when shesteadfastly refuses? It is not like

    meeting a $10 million budget or

    designing a program to grasp someemerging global opportunity, to besure. And it is not as public or

    exhilarating. But it demands greaterresources than I could have imagined,and thus highlights more clearlythan ever my own inadequacies,as well as provides constantopportunity to draw on our Lordsvast reservoir of resources.

    As she needed more and more of

    me, I wrestled daily with the questionof who gets me full-timeMurielor Columbia Bible College andSeminary. Dr. Tabor advised menot to make my decision based onmy desire to see Muriel stay con-tented. Make your plans apartfrom that question. Whether or

    not you can be successful in yourdreams for the college and semi-nary or not, I cannot judge, butI can tell you now, you will notbe successful with Muriel.

    When the time came, the decisionwas firm. It took no great calculation.It was a matter of integrity. Had Inot promised, 42 years before, insickness and in health till deathdo us part?

    This was no grim duty to whichI was stoically resigned, however.It was only fair. She had, after all,cared for me for almost four decades

    with marvelous devotion; now it

    d h h

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    was my turn. And such a partnershe was! If I took care of her for40 years, I would never be out ofher debt.

    But how could I walk away from

    the responsibility of a ministryGod had blessed so remarkablyduring our 22 years at ColumbiaBible College and Seminary?

    Not easily. True, many dreamshad been fulfilled. But so manydreams were yet on the drawing

    board. And the peerless team Godhad brought togethera team notjust of top professionals, but ofdear friendshow could I bearto leave them? Resignation waspainful; but the right path wasnot difficult to discern. WhateverColumbia needed, it did not need

    a part-time, distracted leader. Itis better to move out and let Goddesignate a leader to step in whilethe momentum surges.

    No, it was not a choice betweentwo loves. Sometimes that kind ofchoice becomes necessary, but thistime responsibilities did not con-

    flict. I suppose responsibilities inthe will of God never conflict(though my evaluation of thoseresponsibilities is fallible). Am Imaking the right choice at the righttime in the right way? I hope so.This time it seemed clearly in the

    best interest of the ministry for meto step down, even if the board andadministrators thought otherwise.Both lovesfor Muriel and forColumbia Bible College and

    Seminarydictated the samechoice. There was no conflictof loves, then, or of obligations.

    I have been startled by theresponse to the announcementof my resignation. Husbands andwives renew marriage vows, pastors

    tell the story to their congregations.It was a mystery to me, until adistinguished oncologist who livesconstantly with dying people toldme, Almost all women stand bytheir men; very few men stand bytheir women. Perhaps peoplesensed this contemporary tragedy

    and somehow were helped by asimple choice I considered theonly option.

    It is all more than keepingpromises and being fair, however.As I watch her brave descentinto oblivion, Muriel is the joyof my life. Daily I discern new

    manifestations of the kind ofperson she is, the wife I alwaysloved. I also see fresh manifesta-tions of Gods lovethe God Ilong to love more fully.

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    Almost all women stand by their men;very few men stand by their women.

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    During the summer of 2003, Muriel failed rapidly, and in the early

    morning of Saturday, September 20, as I cradled her in my arms, she

    quietly slipped away. She had finished her journey of 25 years into the

    darkness of Alzheimer's and now was free and fulfilled in the bright

    presence of the One whom she loved so well, for so long. A sweet,

    sad chapter of my life had been gently closed by a loving Father.

    A more detailed account of the McQuilkins'

    story is available in Dr. McQuilkin's book,

    A Promise Kept: The Story of an Unforgettable Love

    (Tyndale House, 1998).

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    Columbia International University

    Bible College Graduate School Columbia Biblical Seminary & School of MissionsBen Lippen School Radio Stations WMHK & WRCM

    7435 Monticello Rd. P.O. Box 3122 Columbia, SC 29230-3122803-754-4100 Toll Free 1-800-777-2227 www.ciu.edu

    Preparing World Christians To Know Him And To Make Him Known

    Robertson McQuilkin served

    for 22 years as president of

    Columbia International

    University (formerly Columbia

    Bible College and Seminary)

    until his resignation in 1990 to

    care for his wife, Muriel, who

    had reached the stage of

    Alzheimer's Disease in which

    she needed full-time care.

    McQuilkin's writing has appeared in numerous journals and

    periodicals. Among the books he has authored are Life in the

    Spirit (LifeWay, 1997, Broadman, 2000), A Promise Kept

    (Tyndale, 1998), An Introduction to Biblical Ethics (Tyndale,

    1989, 1995), Understanding and Applying the Bible (Moody,

    1983, 1992), and The Great Omission (Baker, 1984, OMLit

    2001). He engages in an extensive speaking ministry in churches,schools and conferences across America and overseas.