“You will watch me, Father, as I keep on drawing my strength from You, giving You my deepest longings, knowing that You will meet me in the cry of my heart. I will watch you, Father, as You lead me through the desert one step at a time.” (Kim Moir)

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)


I watch, Father, as my husband drifts away from me – as the hands of time take the man I once knew and carry him to that other, less familiar place of aging. No longer out on the streets riding his bike, mowing the lawn, bringing in the wood, he falls into the dresser and tears up his hand. He limps on his polio leg while he waits for the hip of his other leg to be replaced. He quietly voices his fear of having two bad legs.

I watch, Father, as he cooks breakfast for men’s prayer gatherings and missions’ prayer groups, using one crutch on his left arm and carrying the groceries on the right.

I watch, Father, as he faithfully lifts books before his face and reads, learns, understands, and shares his knowledge with me. It is something we can still do together: we can learn.

Father, I watch as he brings me coffee and trips over the pile of pillows next to my bed. He’s been bringing me coffee for 34 years.

I watch, Father, as he Zooms with our son – when his sorrows leave for one brief hour, and his face is filled with joy. I wish he had that joy for me – but we are beyond one hour of joy. We are 34 years into the struggle of bonding and learning, letting go and forgiving, moving together and drifting apart, only to start all over again.

Father, I watch as my heart struggles to know what to do, how to do it, and how to bring comfort where there is so much pain.



You watch, Father, when suffering afflicts those You love – and You see.

I listen, Father, for the still, small voice that gives me courage to keep going, keep watching, and join in the reading, learning, and cooking. I’ll take it, Father, for he is my husband, and he has been faithful. He has loved me well. It is my turn to love him well.

Father, I will watch for the times of joy and love. I will try to capture and freeze them in my brain so I can go back to them and savor them. I want to remember him filling the bird feeder, caring for our dog, and talking to my mother when I lack energy. He has been faithful, Father. Can I be as well?

You will watch me, Father, as I keep drawing my strength from You, giving You my deepest longings, knowing that You will meet me in the cry of my heart. I will watch You, Father, as You lead me through the desert one step at a time.



Lord Jesus, we need You to help us find our way as caretakers as we watch others struggling. Will You please help us when we are feeling lonely and discouraged? Help us find the way to live, one day at a time, loving well and living in light of Your eternal kingdom of love and light. Amen.


  1. Are there any ways you are taking on burdens that are not yours to carry?
  2. How can you find rest for your soul today?
  3. Do you have a creative source to draw strength from? (I’ve recently taken up watercolor painting; I find myself settled and joyful when I paint.)
Yellow Bubbles
Kim Moir

Kim Moir

Kim Moir lives in Manhattan, Kansas, and has been married to Bill for 34 years. She is a mother to two adult sons, Scott and Nick. Scott and Anna live in Seattle with their family, while Nick lives in a group home in Kansas as a result of severe autism. Following a career in nursing, Kim is now a play therapist and is employed as a clinical social worker. She enjoys journaling, painting, and spending time with her family and friends.

Prayers for Caregivers

Lord, thank You for the ministry of caregiving. Help me be flexible, kind, and intentional (especially when I'm weary) as I act as Your hands and feet. Amen.

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