by Jeff & Mary Anne Woofter
Life with the Parkinheimers
Faith in the Struggle
By Jeff & Mary Anne Woofter
When Mary Anne and I began this journey with Parkinson’s and Early Onset Alzheimer’s, we quickly learned that faith would play a vital role in how we faced the challenges ahead. Our faith doesn’t erase the difficulties, but it does help make them more manageable.
That doesn’t mean I float through life serenely, never rattled or shaken. In fact, there are plenty of times when I get frustrated to the point of screaming—screaming at the simple things that used to be effortless and now feel like climbing a mountain. Showering, buttoning a shirt, steadying my balance, or struggling with the tremors that come without invitation—these are not the sorts of things that make for graceful living. They are reminders that my body no longer plays by the same rules.
Mary Anne, at this point in her own journey, hasn’t reached the same level of frustration. But she is a front-row witness to mine. She sees when I slam my fist on the table in anger, or when my voice rises in pure exasperation at a task that should take seconds but instead takes minutes—or feels impossible altogether.
Here’s the truth: faith doesn’t remove those moments. It doesn’t magically make me serene when I want to throw my shoes across the room because I can’t tie them. What it does do, however, is give me a foundation to return to when the storm passes. Faith is the anchor that keeps me from drifting too far into despair.
For Mary Anne and me, faith is not just a Sunday morning ritual. It’s the quiet prayer whispered before bed, the deep breath taken when frustration boils over, the reminder that we are not alone in this. Our struggles, as unique as they feel in the moment, are part of a larger human story—and in that story, God has not abandoned us.
Some might wonder, “But if you have faith, why do you still get angry or discouraged?” My answer is simple: faith doesn’t make us perfect; faith makes us persevere. Faith doesn’t erase pain; faith helps us endure the pain. Faith doesn’t eliminate fear; faith offers courage to face our fears.
And sometimes, it just helps us laugh at ourselves. Because if there’s one thing Mary Anne and I have learned, it’s that humor is a gift of grace too. When I drop my fork three times in a row, I can either scream, or I can laugh. Some days, I do both. But faith helps tip the balance back toward hope.
We don’t pretend to have all the answers. We do know this: faith gives us a way to carry on, even when the burden feels too heavy. It turns our focus from what we can’t do anymore, to what we still can. It reminds us that our worth is not measured by how fast we button a shirt or whether we can remember every detail. Our worth is anchored in something eternal.
Mary Anne and I continue this journey together, leaning on each other, leaning on family and friends, and most importantly, leaning on God. And for us, that makes all the difference.
Until Next Time,
Jeff & Mary Anne
Life with the ParkinheimersLife with the Parkinheimers
Faith in the Struggle
By Jeff & Mary Anne Woofter
When Mary Anne and I began this journey with Parkinson’s and Early Onset Alzheimer’s, we quickly learned that faith would play a vital role in how we faced the challenges ahead. Our faith doesn’t erase the difficulties, but it does help make them more manageable.
That doesn’t mean I float through life serenely, never rattled or shaken. In fact, there are plenty of times when I get frustrated to the point of screaming—screaming at the simple things that used to be effortless and now feel like climbing a mountain. Showering, buttoning a shirt, steadying my balance, or struggling with the tremors that come without invitation—these are not the sorts of things that make for graceful living. They are reminders that my body no longer plays by the same rules.
Mary Anne, at this point in her own journey, hasn’t reached the same level of frustration. But she is a front-row witness to mine. She sees when I slam my fist on the table in anger, or when my voice rises in pure exasperation at a task that should take seconds but instead takes minutes—or feels impossible altogether.
Here’s the truth: faith doesn’t remove those moments. It doesn’t magically make me serene when I want to throw my shoes across the room because I can’t tie them. What it does do, however, is give me a foundation to return to when the storm passes. Faith is the anchor that keeps me from drifting too far into despair.
For Mary Anne and me, faith is not just a Sunday morning ritual. It’s the quiet prayer whispered before bed, the deep breath taken when frustration boils over, the reminder that we are not alone in this. Our struggles, as unique as they feel in the moment, are part of a larger human story—and in that story, God has not abandoned us.
Some might wonder, “But if you have faith, why do you still get angry or discouraged?” My answer is simple: faith doesn’t make us perfect; faith makes us persevere. Faith doesn’t erase pain; faith helps us endure the pain. Faith doesn’t eliminate fear; faith offers courage to face our fears.
And sometimes, it just helps us laugh at ourselves. Because if there’s one thing Mary Anne and I have learned, it’s that humor is a gift of grace too. When I drop my fork three times in a row, I can either scream, or I can laugh. Some days, I do both. But faith helps tip the balance back toward hope.
We don’t pretend to have all the answers. We do know this: faith gives us a way to carry on, even when the burden feels too heavy. It turns our focus from what we can’t do anymore, to what we still can. It reminds us that our worth is not measured by how fast we button a shirt or whether we can remember every detail. Our worth is anchored in something eternal.
Mary Anne and I continue this journey together, leaning on each other, leaning on family and friends, and most importantly, leaning on God. And for us, that makes all the difference.
Until Next Time,
Jeff & Mary Anne
Life with the ParkinheimersLife with the Parkinheimers
Faith in the Struggle
By Jeff & Mary Anne Woofter
When Mary Anne and I began this journey with Parkinson’s and Early Onset Alzheimer’s, we quickly learned that faith would play a vital role in how we faced the challenges ahead. Our faith doesn’t erase the difficulties, but it does help make them more manageable.
That doesn’t mean I float through life serenely, never rattled or shaken. In fact, there are plenty of times when I get frustrated to the point of screaming—screaming at the simple things that used to be effortless and now feel like climbing a mountain. Showering, buttoning a shirt, steadying my balance, or struggling with the tremors that come without invitation—these are not the sorts of things that make for graceful living. They are reminders that my body no longer plays by the same rules.
Mary Anne, at this point in her own journey, hasn’t reached the same level of frustration. But she is a front-row witness to mine. She sees when I slam my fist on the table in anger, or when my voice rises in pure exasperation at a task that should take seconds but instead takes minutes—or feels impossible altogether.
Here’s the truth: faith doesn’t remove those moments. It doesn’t magically make me serene when I want to throw my shoes across the room because I can’t tie them. What it does do, however, is give me a foundation to return to when the storm passes. Faith is the anchor that keeps me from drifting too far into despair.
For Mary Anne and me, faith is not just a Sunday morning ritual. It’s the quiet prayer whispered before bed, the deep breath taken when frustration boils over, the reminder that we are not alone in this. Our struggles, as unique as they feel in the moment, are part of a larger human story—and in that story, God has not abandoned us.
Some might wonder, “But if you have faith, why do you still get angry or discouraged?” My answer is simple: faith doesn’t make us perfect; faith makes us persevere. Faith doesn’t erase pain; faith helps us endure the pain. Faith doesn’t eliminate fear; faith offers courage to face our fears.
And sometimes, it just helps us laugh at ourselves. Because if there’s one thing Mary Anne and I have learned, it’s that humor is a gift of grace too. When I drop my fork three times in a row, I can either scream, or I can laugh. Some days, I do both. But faith helps tip the balance back toward hope.
We don’t pretend to have all the answers. We do know this: faith gives us a way to carry on, even when the burden feels too heavy. It turns our focus from what we can’t do anymore, to what we still can. It reminds us that our worth is not measured by how fast we button a shirt or whether we can remember every detail. Our worth is anchored in something eternal.
Mary Anne and I continue this journey together, leaning on each other, leaning on family and friends, and most importantly, leaning on God. And for us, that makes all the difference.
Until Next Time,
Jeff & Mary Anne
Life with the Parkinheimers
