Just a Day

The first time I met Elizabeth, the person doing the introductions said, "Elizabeth, I would like you to meet someone." 

Elizabeth, not looking up from her newspaper, replied, "Thank you, but I have no interest in meeting ANYONE."  I liked her immediately.  

 

Elizabeth lives in private room in a fairly large skilled nursing community where privacy is not the norm.  Here, I do quite a few hall and room visits, and over the course of a few months, Elizabeth and I have moved from nodding to one another, to jauntily waving, to actually spending a bit of time in conversation.  She is articulate, and loves reading newspapers.  I have never seen her without one.  Yesterday she asked, "Did you lead worship downstairs?  Did you have a nice turnout?"  I replied, "Yes.  I think it was one of the largest we ever had.  I would love to see you join us sometime."   She smiled and pointed to the front page.  "Did you see that at one time we may have had two moons?"

       

I was delighted to see Anne downstairs.  So often when I visit she is in bed, and I must gently wake her.  I still know very little about her as she has an interesting way of conversing without sharing much information.  She often tells me that she wants so much to see her brother again, but has no idea where he is.  We always tell one another that we love each other.  Yesterday I told her how happy I was to see her in worship.  She replied, "I am happy as well, but I tell you, I am always surprised to wake up and find myself here."     

 

We really did have a large turnout downstairs, and by the time I had led worship, served communion, and talked to various folks, two hours passed.  The conversations included those with Elizabeth and Anne, with David, who tells me he is writing a book about Jesus and the space aliens because Jesus' flock is that large.  I also talked with the soft-spoken Roger who is so distressed with our government that I think our nation's leaders just might be embarrassed to cause such a gentle soul so much concern, with Ed who has a firm handshake but still mourns the loss of his wife five years ago, the activities assistant who is excitedly waiting for the birth of her first child in November, and Charlie who continues to struggle with his medication.  He doesn't want to take it, often does not remember the difficulties he runs into when he does not, but promises to keep trying.        

 

A large flock.  Maybe not quite as large as Jesus' but large enough that I see glimpses of moons, stars, and a surprising galaxy or two as I move through.   

  

When I consider your heavens, 

the works of your fingers, 

the moon and the stars, 

which you have set in place...

                             - Psalm 8: 3