Where We Are

The young receptionist was just hanging up the phone when I walked through the front door.  "Oh, Pastor, I am so happy you are here!  I just had a call from someone wondering if his mother is here.  Now, how can someone not know where his mother is?"  She was quite indignant, and I had to smile.  I have gotten to know a little bit about the family of this gregarious young woman from El Salvador.  I remembered that her sister was scheduled for surgery, so I asked how she was doing.  "Oh, so much better.  Thank you for praying.  I am so happy!"  

 

I responded that I was very glad to hear of her sister's recovery, and then asked if she would be seeing her mother on Mother's Day.  I was not surprised to hear that family and friends were planning a large gathering on Sunday.  I also was not surprised to hear that someone might call this particular home to try to find a missing mother.  Folks from a wide variety of life styles end up in this particular section of this long-term care community.  Sometimes maintaining family ties is just not that easy when everything else is falling apart.  

About that time the pianist dashed in the door.  "I am here!  Just give me a second!" 

A few minutes later she returned, still a bit breathless.  "Sorry.  I have been working with Habitat for Humanity.  I had to clean up a bit."  I continue to be amazed by the volunteers who month by month make room in their schedules for these services, and I am often touched by the friendships that develop.  Many of those we serve have indeed lost track of their family, but we keep showing up, passing out song sheets, giving words of welcome, continuing to offer communion, and reminding everyone that God is always present.  For all of us. God knows where we are.   

 

As we walk down the hall, I give thanks.   I also give thanks for all of you.