Fullness

In the last months of her life, even in a busy skilled nursing community, Gloria embodied quietude.  Her area of a shared skilled nursing room was partitioned off with a curtain, and consisted of a small table and bed.  On her wall, placed where she and her visitors could see it, was a small framed poster that read, "Rejoice always," from Philippians 4. There were a few other items on her bedside table. It was a blessing to worship with her when she was able to join us, and when she could no longer do that, I was grateful to be able to stop by her bed and pray. Yesterday, as I prayed she did not stir. I think she probably passed before the night was over.    

 

Her roommate, who is anything but silent asked me, "Do you think she hears you?" That, of course, is not important. The irony is that Dianne wants very much to be heard, but I have a very difficult time hearing her. Until I interrupt her, she does not stop talking. The part of her that I think really wants to be heard is not easy to reach. It is like trying to reach an eddy in a rushing torrent. Usually, I get swept up and am carried too far downstream to get there.  

This ministry is a weaving of speaking and singing, serving communion, enjoying easy conversations, listening to and reflecting upon the deeper issues, and praying about it all. The one thing it has never been about is whether or not anyone hears me. The crux is whether or not I am really listening. Just when I think I am, I realize what I am hearing is my grocery list.    

 

When Pope John Paul II passed, I was struck when I heard that while he left some final instructions to those around him, he had no personal effects to will. Certainly as pope he was not living in poverty, but it does seem wise to practice giving as much away as possible while we can.  When I think of Gloria, I realize she, in the end of her life, left a rich legacy. She gave me a safe harbor where I could be with God.   

 

Maybe is really is as simple as Jesus said. If we want to be heard we need to talk less. If we want more of God, more of that which we treasure needs to be given away.