My name is Linda Edmonson, and I grew up in Laurel, a small town about 30 miles north of Hattiesburg. I had a younger sister, and we were raised in a Christian home. My parents were very active in our local church, which was just down the street from our house and right across from my elementary school. We could walk to school or church whenever we wanted. I have such fond memories of Vacation Bible School in the summer. My dad was always busy with his duties as a deacon, helping people in the community.

Mom was an amazing cook. She made food for every church event and loved decorating the church, especially with flowers. I remember her always finding a way to make the church beautiful for Christmas or any other occasion. I started playing piano for the church when I was in junior high, then moved on to the organ. I’ve continued playing throughout my life—it’s been such a blessing.

I also had a wonderful set of maternal grandparents who had a farm. I spent almost every weekend, holiday, and summer vacation with them. They were such a big part of my childhood. After high school, for my graduation, my mom, my sister, and I went to Europe for three weeks. It was an amazing trip. I had taken French in school, so while we were in Paris, we took a train trip into the French countryside. It was an unforgettable experience for me.

After that, I went to the University of Southern Mississippi, where I met my husband, Chip. We’ve been married for 52 years now. We had two sons, Chad and Lee, but we lost our first child, which was an incredibly traumatic event for us. It nearly tore us apart, but we gave each other space and eventually worked through it. After that, we were blessed with two more children.

Chip was passionate about his hobbies—hunting and flying. He even had a small plane, and we traveled together in it, visiting several places over the years. I spent a lot of time on my own hobbies, especially music and flowers. Over time, like most parents, we concentrated more on raising our boys.

Both of our sons are intellectually gifted, and we were lucky enough to have the Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science in Columbus to keep them challenged. They’ve both gone on to do really well in life. Chad now runs Chip’s business here in Hattiesburg, but we’ve been through some difficult times, especially when Chip developed dementia, and later, Alzheimer’s. He’s been institutionalized for two years now, and that’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever faced. It’s also what brought me closest to God.

It all started during our 50th wedding anniversary trip. We took our family on an Alaskan cruise, and everything was perfect—until we got back to Seattle. That’s when Chip had what I can only describe as a breakdown. He just flipped out, and from then on, he became more aggressive and violent. We had no idea what was going on.

Placing him in memory care was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever had to make. I wrestled with guilt and kept questioning if I did the right thing. For months, it was so hard. Chip would try to run away, and he was difficult for the staff to handle. But finally, in the last three months, they’ve managed to get him on the right medication. He’s calm now, doesn’t say much, but at least I don’t dread visiting him like I used to. Before, I’d leave every visit in tears, but now I can go see him without falling apart.

Our two sons are both married now, each with two children, a boy and a girl. Chad is here in town, while Lee lives in Chicago. He’s my traveling son—he’s lived all over the world, and I’ve had the chance to visit him in many places. Both of my boys inherited my love for travel. It’s expensive, but I’m sure I passed that bug onto them.

When you travel, you learn so much about people and yourself, and I feel so blessed that my boys have grown up to be Christians and are raising their own children in the faith. There have been so many times when God has brought me through traumatic situations. I remember one trip with my mom and Lee—we were in Ireland and had a serious traffic accident. Just minutes before, my mom had taken off her seatbelt, and when the accident happened, she hit her head and had a concussion.

It was Christmas Day, snowing, and Lee was trapped in the front seat. The car was smoking, and I had to get Mom out, but she refused to leave because she said, “If Lee’s going to burn up, I’m going to burn up with him.” I prayed so hard, the hardest I’ve ever prayed. Lee managed to pull himself up into the back seat with just a small rip in his jeans. When the rescue team arrived, they couldn’t believe he’d walked away unharmed. They said no one should have survived that. I know it was God. He truly answered my prayers that day.

Another time, my loving grandfather—who had never raised his voice to me—had a nervous breakdown after my grandmother died. He held me at gunpoint. It was terrifying, but I prayed again, and I just talked to him calmly. I said, “Pop, I know you don’t want to hurt me. Let’s work through this together.” And eventually, he put the gun down.

These moments in my life have shown me over and over that God is real. He’s a loving and present God, and He listens when we pray. My purpose in life has been to teach and raise my children, and now, I feel like my purpose is to use my musical talents and be a listening ear for others. I try to encourage people going through difficult times because I know how hard life can be, and I want them to know that God is there for them, just like He’s been there for me.

Each day, I remind myself of that truth through my morning devotionals. Starting my day with these moments of reflection keeps me grounded in my faith and purpose. One of my devotional books is from some moms, and I just love it because it offers prayers that speak to me. The other provides scriptures, and both help set the tone for my day. There are so many scriptures in the Bible that I hold dear, but the one I love and think about the most is Psalms 46:1-2: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear though the earth should change.” I keep coming back to that. It reminds me that God is always our helper and our refuge, especially when no one else can help or doesn’t want to help.

That scripture became more real to me when Chip was first diagnosed with dementia. In the beginning, he would forget things and become very agitated, frustrated that he couldn’t remember. It was always my fault, in his mind, that he couldn’t remember. That was hard. Over time, he became violent. Chip was a big hunter, and there were guns all over the house. We had to take all the guns and ammunition out because he actually threatened me several times. The last incident that finally made me realize I couldn’t keep him at home was when he threw a glass at me and broke the glass door. I had to have it replaced, and that was when I knew it was time.

The kids had been trying to get me to put him in memory care for a month, at least. They kept saying, “We’re afraid for you,” but I kept resisting. I thought I could take care of him; he loved being at home. But after that incident, I realized he meant the threats he made, and that it wasn’t just him talking. The Holy Spirit gave me the peace to know that putting him in memory care was the right decision.

It was hard. Chip threatened to end his life, and we had many, many difficult moments. But now, looking back, I’ve met so many people who are just at the beginning of that journey. I listen to them, and I give them hope. I reassure them that God will get them through it. There is a way to endure and come out on top.

Chip’s decline was pretty rapid after we took an Alaskan cruise. After that trip, I started noticing it more and more. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, turn all the lights on, grab the covers off the bed, and start accusing me of things. I had no idea what he was talking about—I’d just been sleeping! I couldn’t calm him down, and it scared me. His blood pressure would go up, and I was worried he’d have another heart attack or stroke. He’d already had a heart attack, so I was constantly afraid, both for his health and mine. Living in constant fear isn’t good for anyone.

The last three months have been rough, with the staff trying to regulate his medication. I think that’s common. They’re all just guessing, trying to find the right combination, and what works one day may not work the next. But what I do appreciate about the memory care facility is the kindness of the staff. They genuinely care about the patients and the families, and they work hard to reassure you that things will get better.

When Chip first went into care, he tried to run away. I thought, “Oh no, this is what life is going to be like now.” But they kept telling me that once they found the right medication, he would calm down. They were right. Now, when I visit him, he’s usually asleep or calm. He doesn’t talk much anymore, just answers questions with a word or two. Sometimes, he’ll say a full sentence, but he doesn’t initiate conversation. He’s lost most of his sight—he’s virtually blind in one eye, and the other isn’t much better. He doesn’t recognize me by sight, but he knows my voice. The same goes for our son Chad and his wife, Catherine, and the grandkids. You have to get close to him for him to realize who you are.

When I visit him now, he’s usually glad to see me. When I leave, he’ll say, “Thank you, I’m glad you came,” or something like that. He doesn’t beg to come home anymore, which used to break my heart when he did. It was hard when he’d say things like, “I’ll do anything if you just take me home,” or “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Those words were so painful.

I’ve had friends, ministers even, who’ve come to pray with us. Chip has always appreciated that, though not from me. It never worked when I tried to do it, but with them, he would say yes to their prayers.

I’ve learned so much about patience, about letting go, and about trusting God. I’ve had to lean on my faith in ways I never imagined. But through it all, I’ve found strength in God, and I know He’s been with me every step of the way. It’s been a journey, and I continue to walk it with faith.