There's a particular look that crosses someone's face when they realize they've just been understood.

I've seen it on a bus driver from Kenya after I spoke a few words of Swahili.
I've seen it on a CNA from Ghana caring for my wife in a hospital room. I watched a hospital housekeeper from Haiti light up when I spoke a few words in French to her.

And I've seen it countless times on caregivers who quietly say, "You just said what I've been feeling."

The response is almost always the same:

How do you know my language?

Caregivers live in a kind of isolation that's hard to describe. It isn't only physical exhaustion, emotional strain, or long-term uncertainty. It's deeper than that. Many of us are surrounded by people who care, who want to help, who offer words—but those words don't quite land. Not because they're cruel, but because they're untranslated.

In this episode of Hope for the Caregiver, I reflect on what it means to speak the "language of the heart." While I learned a few words in several language, I speak "Fluent Caregiver" - and am committed to speaking the language of the caregiver's heart to as many as I can.

I also discuss why music reaches us so powerfully, and why some voices connect immediately while others never quite do. I also look at what Christmas tells us about this kind of connection, and why the name Emmanuel isn't a seasonal phrase, but a profound reality.

This episode moves through stories, music, suffering, compassion, and the gospel itself. It's about caregivers, yes—but also about anyone who has ever wondered what to say, or felt unseen because no one knew how to say it.

If you're carrying something heavy this season, I hope you'll listen.

If you're walking with someone through addiction, disability, illness, or long-term suffering, you may feel pressure to say the right thing. This episode isn't about perfect words. It's about presence.

Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is simply stay, listen, and speak with the same compassion we ourselves have received.

If this episode resonated, you may find help in my book, A Caregiver's Companion.

It grew out of the same conviction behind today's program: caregivers don't just need encouragement. We need words that speak honestly to what we're carrying.

The book brings together Scripture, hymns, and lived experience from decades of caregiving, written to sit beside you rather than talk at you.

You can find it here:
👉 https://a.co/d/1l8nZfF

Caregiving is relentless. The needs don't pause, the stress doesn't politely wait, and the temptation to put ourselves last feels almost virtuous. But in this episode of Hope for the Caregiver, I push back on a lie many of us live with: that our health is expendable.

Joined by my longtime friend and health coach D,ale Richardson we talk candidly about weight, stress eating, and the quiet ways caregivers drift into unhealthy patterns, especially during the holidays. This isn't about shame, gimmicks, or willpower. It's about intentionality.

I share my own journey, losing weight, gaining it back during months in the hospital with Gracie, and then recommitting again, not out of vanity, but out of necessity. I'm no good to my wife if I'm fat, broken, and miserable. That hard truth drives everything.

Dale helps reframe food not as comfort, reward, or failure, but as fuel. Emotional eating isn't a moral flaw. It's often a stress response. The question isn't "Why am I weak?" but "What am I carrying?" Caregivers already know the answer.

We talk about simple, sustainable choices:
• Eating with a plan, especially at holidays
• Understanding portions without demonizing food
• Why "starting over Monday" keeps us stuck
• The value of accountability that doesn't condemn
• Staying active in real life, not just gyms and step counters

We also explore why community matters. Lone-ranger caregiving is dangerous. Having someone who understands the weight you carry, and walks with you toward healthier choices, can change everything.

You don't accidentally get healthy. But with intention, support, and grace, you can move toward strength, not just for yourself, but for those who depend on you.

Healthy caregivers make better caregivers. Your future self, and your loved one, will thank you.

Alzheimer's often reveals itself around the holiday table, when families see one another more closely than usual. My guest this week, author and longtime caregiver Carol Steinberg, knows that experience well. Her father was diagnosed decades ago, long before the disease was widely understood, and the journey reshaped her life. She eventually helped lead one of the largest Alzheimer's organizations in the country and continues to write for Voices of Alzheimer's, staying close to the families living with this disease every day.

We talked about what gives her hope now. More people are being diagnosed earlier. New treatments can slow the progression for some. Communities are offering more practical support, and families are learning how to build what Carol calls "bunkers," healthy habits and safeguards that strengthen the whole household.

One of the most meaningful parts of our conversation was how Alzheimer's affects children and grandchildren. Carol regrets that she sometimes pulled her own daughters back from their grandfather. Her new children's book, Come Grandpa Meow, Let's Fly, helps families give kids the language and confidence to stay connected rather than afraid. She offers simple ideas that help children engage in small, steady ways, which can lift the spirits of everyone involved.

Caregivers often lose independence, connection, and identity. Children lose clarity when they are pushed to the sidelines. Carol and I both believe the better path is to walk toward one another, even when the road is rough. There is sorrow in Alzheimer's, but there is also purpose, comfort, and moments of unexpected grace when families choose connection instead of retreat.

If you have a loved one with Alzheimer's, or if you wonder how to explain the changes to your children or grandchildren, I think this conversation will encourage you. There is life beyond the diagnosis, and there is a way to face it together.

Gracie joined me for the program to give an update on her journey, how she's doing, and even sing a song or two.

Plus, we demonstrated the goofiness of our lives - and what's kept us laughing for 40 years.

www.standingwithhope.com

I opened the show with Balaam, the original for-profit prophet. He was not the last one. We still have plenty today with nice suits, studio lighting, and partner plans "…if you act now!"

Balaam took the job, hopped on his donkey, and headed out. God blocked the road. The donkey saw it. Balaam did not. After a few detours and a smashed foot, the donkey finally spoke. And instead of freezing or questioning reality, Balaam argued with her as if this was completely normal.

That part always gets me.
Did animals talk a lot back then?

I live around horses and cattle here in Montana. If one of them said, "Peter, we need to talk," I would like to think I would pause and reconsider a few things. Balaam did not. He snapped right back at the donkey and missed the angel standing in the road.

And thinking about it, as a caregiver, do I often do the same thing?
I get locked in on what I am trying to do … and miss the very thing God may be using to protect me. Sometimes the obstacle is not the problem. It is the rescue.

In this episode of Hope for the Caregiver, I share three ordinary moments from life in our Montana cabin that turned into extraordinary lessons for caregivers.

First, I finally leveled our refrigerator—a small victory that reminded me how good it feels to make one crooked thing straight in a world that leans. Then I talk about a tough situation a friend faced with her aging father, and what it really means to honor our parents when impairment or sin clouds their judgment. Using the story of Noah and his sons, I call it "walking backward with a blanket"—protecting dignity even when it's painful.

Finally, as I cleaned the big new windows in our addition for Gracie, I saw a picture of how resentment, fear, and fatigue can cloud our hearts—and how only Christ can wash us clean. The episode ends at the caregiver keyboard with one of my favorite hymns, Fairest Lord Jesus, and a reminder that He truly makes the woeful heart to sing.

Out here at our home in Montana, I had one of those nights that turned into a sermon I didn't plan to preach. A young calf had wedged himself tight in a fence — and if I hadn't gone back to check the mineral bucket, he'd have been mountain lion food by morning. I cut the chain loose, he bolted off without so much as a "thank you," and I stood there on that hillside grinning like a fool, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

It had nothing to do with caregiving — and that's exactly the point. Every caregiver needs something that lifts the soul, something that reminds us we're still alive, not just functioning. For me, it was freeing a calf. For you, it might be painting, gardening, music, or a quiet moment with a puzzle. These aren't hobbies — they're oxygen for the spirit.

I wrapped the show with Gracie's favorite hymn, This Is the Day That the Lord Has Made. We've sung it in hospital rooms and now here at home with the mountains out our window. It's not a children's song to us — it's a statement of faith when the day looks hard.

Zephaniah wrote, "The Lord your God is in your midst… He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing." That's the kind of God we serve — one who doesn't just command us to rejoice, but actually rejoices over us.

So that's my message this week: find your thing. Give yourself permission to breathe, to laugh, to live. Because the God who called you into this life is already singing over you.

Each week on Hope for the Caregiver, I take listeners into the heart of what sustains us when life's weight feels too heavy. This week, I shared why our deepest comfort as caregivers doesn't come from rest, money, or even help—it comes from knowing we are not our own, but belong body and soul to our faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.

From the Heidelberg Catechism to the story behind the hymn Have Thine Own Way, Lord, I explored what it means to surrender our weariness to the One who shapes and reshapes us like clay in the hands of a potter. Caregiving forces us to face what we can't fix—but it also invites us to trust the One who holds every broken piece.

I also shared about our new addition at home—Built for Grace—and the moment Gracie saw her new accessible space for the first time. It reminded me that love doesn't cling to what used to be; it builds again with what remains.
"Love that endures learns to build again with what remains." — Wendell Berry

🎧 Listen to this week's episode: Have Thine Own Way, Lord – Hymns Every Caregiver Ought to Know
📘 My new book: A Caregiver's Companion
More resources: PeterRosenberger.com
Support the ministry: StandingWithHope.com/giving