Judy Dunagan

Writer | Wonder Seeker

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How Long, Lord?

November 19, 2016

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? (Psalm 13:1-2) I love that we can wrestle with our God in prayer. When my mother battled Alzheimer’s for fifteen years there were many times that I cried out, “Why?” and “How long?” to God. It wasn’t until my mother’s funeral in 2013 that He answered my heart’s cry. While listening to my oldest daughter’s tribute to her grandmother, He showed me how much my mother’s story had forever impacted all of our lives. In honor of my mother today, on what would have been her 88th birthday, here’s Christie’s beautiful tribute to her grandmother. . . What I will remember most about my grandma is her unwavering love for her Savior. Anita lived first and foremost for her King; to honor Him, serve Him, and share His love with anyone who would listen. I believe that her love for the Lord was a quality so deeply a part of her spirit—her being—that it was the one thing that could not be erased as Alzheimer’s slowly stole her memories, independence, and mobility. The Lord called Anita from an early age, and she followed Him so faithfully until the day He called her home. What a tremendous legacy to leave her grandchild. I am convinced that if the Lord had asked thirteen-year-old Anita if she would be willing to endure Alzheimer’s later in life in order to teach all those she loved about His faithfulness, perfect love, and grace . . . she would have signed on the dotted line. Perhaps it would have gone something like this. . . Anita, would you be willing to lose your independence and competency one day in order to teach your husband how to love more perfectly? To show your grandchildren what such powerful love looks like? Yes Lord, even still. But would you be willing to lose the faces of those you love, including the many memories they inspire, in order to teach your girls what reliance on my grace and omnipotence looks like? Yes Lord, even still. Would you be willing to give up your love of singing in the church choir and playing the piano so beautifully in order to show hundreds of strangers my love, and share the truth of…

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The Dance

November 1, 2016

Back in 1983, President Ronald Reagan designated November as National Alzheimer’s Disease Awareness Month, according to alz.org. I assume this was long before he knew he would also battle the disease at the end of his life. In honor of all who are facing the anguish of Alzheimer’s in their families, I thought I’d share “The Dance” which is something I wrote about my parents as they journeyed through my mother’s Alzheimer’s before her death in 2013. My dear mother bravely endured this devastating disease for fifteen years as my father lovingly cared for her in their home for most of those years. I wrote “The Dance” while visiting them in their home in Phoenix… The Dance Their dance took my breath away, heads bowed toward each other, face to face. She in a pink bathrobe, her hands gripped on her walker. He is coaxing her to take steps toward him as he carefully holds on to the front of her walker. He is guiding her toward her hospital bed, placed recently at the foot of the bed that they’ve shared for sixty years of marriage. She is breathing heavily as if she’s run a marathon, taking only ten steps from the bathroom where her husband just helped her like she helped me when I was a toddler. He gently guides her into her new bed. She looks at him with frightened, childlike eyes and says, “I am afraid.” He says “Don’t be afraid, I am here.” He tucks her in while they quietly sing “His Name Is Wonderful!” She still remembers most of the words of this favorite hymn. Her voice is still beautiful and she sings on key. He brushes her cheek with a gentle kiss, and covers her with his prayers. He then goes to their bed alone with his bride in her hospital bed at the foot of his bed. She soon falls asleep, safely under the shelter of him. My mother is free now, safely with her Savior and fully healed! But I pray that I never forget the dance of their “in sickness and health, until death do us part” love story. This photo of my parents, Mark and Anita Bubeck, was taken the year they were married in 1949. Check out the new book, Keeping Love Alive as Memories Fade: The Five Love Languages and the Alzheimer’s Journey by Dr. Gary Chapman, Dr. Edward G. Shaw and Deborah Barr. The…

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Sticky Note Legacy

September 26, 2016

Like a long-lost treasure—hidden in plain sight—the yellow sticky note written in my mother’s beautiful handwriting caught my eye. Alzheimer’s had stolen her handwriting several years before I found the note. Stuck to an old newspaper in her bedroom, it read, “I am fading away but Jesus is keeping me everyday.” And under that, she wrote, “Heb. 12:1-14.” A few years after she died, I traced her handwriting from her sticky note onto a yellow canvas that is now displayed in my home. It’s a poignant, beautiful reminder of His faithfulness and my mother’s unwavering faith, even in the midst of deep sorrow. My mother, Anita Bubeck, bravely endured Alzheimer’s for fifteen years while my father, Mark Bubeck, faithfully cared for her in their Phoenix home. When she passed away in 2013, I asked my dad if I could have her Bible, the one he had given her later in life. I found some more sticky notes in the front of her Bible, one referencing Hebrews 12:1-2 again. I call this my sticky note legacy. The progression of my mother’s disease is evident in the notes she scribbled throughout her Bible. She used whiteout to rewrite her first name, perhaps misspelling it the first time. Near a favorite Psalm she wrote, “Pas The Lored,” and by Philippians 4 she wrote, “Paise God. Ameen God.” Though she couldn’t spell the word, she still chose to praise Him. I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand—at least this side of heaven—the “God why” behind the ravages of Alzheimer’s on my mother’s mind and body before she passed away. But I do know that the ripple effect of her faith has forever impacted my family, including generations yet to come! And I’ve chosen to cling to Hebrews 12:1-2 as the focus of my own life as I seek to run the race marked out for me… Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great could of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily untangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1-2 I’d love to hear from you. What verses have become the focus of your life and why. Feel…

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Grandma … or is it Gimo? (Or Nana? Nama? Mimi? Nemo?)

August 16, 2016

I don’t know what it is about Baby Boomers, but for some reason we don’t like to be called Grandpa or Grandma when we finally become grandparents. I have to smile when my friends tell me what their new grandchildren will call them. My favorites so far are “G” and “Grand-dude” and “Pa-Pa-Boo” (you know who you are). Well, now that I am going to be a grandmother for the first time come February(!), I get it. My husband and I have decided our grandchildren will call us Papa and Mia. But I promise, if this first grandbaby wants to call me Grandma, I’ll take that, too! *Update as of December 2018 … my almost 2-year-old grandson is here for Christmas. And he can’t yet say the “me” combo, so I am “Mo” instead of Mia. I’ll take it! “Mo” it is! What about you? What do your children call their grandparents? Or if you’re a grandparent, let me know what your grandchildren call you, and why!

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Heroes of the Faith

April 1, 2016

During the past few years I’ve met several mothers who have had to say good-bye to their children this side of heaven. All of them have a deep and abiding love for Jesus, and their faith is like none other I have ever seen. None of them take the power of His resurrection and the promise of eternity with Him for granted. Many are Bible teachers, writers, and some are worship leaders, even in the midst of unspeakable sorrow.  This Easter weekend, I want to honor these moms: Shirley, Katie, Santha, three Gails, Lindsay, Elizabeth, Derika, Kathe, and Kim. Your faith has forever impacted my own faith walk and I hope it’s okay that I see you all as heroes of the faith, much like those in Hebrews 11:1–2: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.” I met one of these moms just a few years ago at a writers’ conference. Her name is Kim Erickson and her son Austin would have turned twelve years old today. The ninth anniversary of his death, due to complications from strep throat, is on April 25. Kim shares more of her story and her passion for Jesus and His Word on her website at LoveMyWord.com. I asked Kim to write a message for us for this Easter weekend . . . Bow Down, Beloved Kim Erickson How do we respond when terrible turns in our direction? Our greatest chance to lead people to Christ hinges on our answer to this question. Pointing to God when things are good is easily written off by others as good luck, talent, or hard work. Pointing to God when our lives fall apart is where searching eyes can see how God works in our lives. When the “train wreck” happens, our relationship with God becomes like the response team—sirens unmistakable, rushing to help, healing acts. Jesus can become visible in our response to difficult situations. My “train wreck” is losing our three-year-old son to strep throat. The tragedy of losing a child is deep, dark, and never-ending. How I get through it is to remember my position before God—beloved, but bowed before His Majesty. My position is child of God, daughter of the King; beloved, yet in submission to the One True God who created me, heaven and earth. I belong…

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About Judy

My story as a “wonder seeker” began with a prayer one morning on my way to work. For many years I was a women’s ministry leader at our church, keeping busy teaching women’s Bible studies, planning conferences, and encouraging other women to put their hope in Jesus. But in the midst of all that out-of-breath-serving-Him-busyness­­, I realized that I missed Him. Read More

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