Psalm 16

Over the course of a year or so, maybe even two, I have visited once a month with a retired doctor. She was born in India, and she and her family (her father was a doctor) lived in several countries. When she and her husband, also a medical doctor, married, they added at least one other country before finally settling in the bay area. She is intelligent and reserved, and I am very fond of her. She is Hindu, and often asks me, "Now, what exactly is it that you do?" The question always make me laugh; I do not think I have ever done anything exactly, but I try to explain it as best that I can. 

During our time together I have witnessed her mental and physical health decline steadily, and recently she was moved from assisted living to the memory care floor. Now when I go to see her, a staff member must key in a code that allows the elevator to stop on the floor where she lives. The same is true when I leave the floor.  I find I like these moments we pause and wait for the elevator. I get  the sense that often the receptionist or care giver benefit from a moment to simply pause, and experience someone asking how they are doing. Sometimes ministry does not need much time. What it lacks in exactitude, can be made up for with a little deftness.  

The doctor has walked with a walker for as long as I have known her, and she still does. However, in these last two months, she appears stronger; her color is more robust and her eyes are brighter. Her short-term memory continues to decline, but she still remembers me and seems to enjoy having some company. Over all, she just seems happier.  

  

When I saw her last week, we walked down the hall together to a sunny spot with some comfortable chairs.  I asked her if liked living on her new floor. Her response was positive, and she added: "I think the people here are very good people and they live honestly." I believe I know what she meant. There is little pretense on these floors, and often affection and humor can be found.  

When the time came for me to leave, I offered to walk with her back down the hall. She declined saying, "No, I think I will just sit here in the sun."  I got on the elevator knowing that I was not leaving her behind a locked door, but sitting comfortably in the light.      

   

Protect me, O God, 

for in you I take refuge. 

I say to God, "You are my God, 

I have no good apart from you. 

As for the holy ones in the land, 

they are the noble, 

in whom is all my delight. 

The boundary lines have fallen for me

in pleasant places; 

I have a goodly heritage.  

   

Psalm 16: 1-3,6 

New Century Psalter