Psalm 90

When I arrived in the skilled nursing community, I learned that Ruth died last week.  I met her when I first started with the ministry, so she had been living in this community for over ten years. She had no use of her body from the waist down. That frustrated her, but I think that what frustrated her even more was that she really wanted to live her remaining days and nights in a community dedicated to Christ. She was a no-nonsense Southern Baptist from Arkansas, and I liked and admired her so much. I am grateful we grew close. Her love of the One she call Lord was steadfast and inspiring.  I shall miss her, but I am happy that for few minutes each month, we created sanctuary with and for her so she could set her burdens down for awhile, and simply be.   

  

The refurbishing that this community has undertaken is bearing some good fruit. The colors that they have chosen are pleasing, and I think that is really important for any kind of healing to take place. Some patients are recovering from illness and surgeries, but those who have dementia are also present.  Such a disparity of conditions is not easy for the staff. Irene repeats phrases almost continually, and that day the phrase was "Help me." I think wherever we worship, whether in an activity room or a cathedral, someone is silently repeating that prayer. It was moving to hear the chant out loud (It is important to note that I believe this woman is physically well tended to.)    

After we celebrated the Eucharist, we sang one verse of Jerry Sinclair's "Alleluia." That changed Irene's chant, and she continued to sing that one word after the rest of us had concluded. She may or may not have known what she was singing, but regardless the effect on those gathered, including the activity director, was noticeable.  The room seemed to relax, and the director looked at me, smiled, nodded her head, and mouthed a thank you.  The alleluias continued.   

Each of us can succumb to repetitiveness, especially complaints. Irene, Ruth, and so many others remind me that anyone can, and will make a difference in the lives of others. Let us tend to our alleluias and share them liberally. Hopefully, we can help lighten, not add to the burdens of those around us. That will make for a beautiful song. 

Alleluia.   

     

So teach us now the limit of our days, 

that we may give our hearts to wisdom's voice. 

And turn a gracious face towards us, 

for we are here on earth to serve. 

Each morning let us rise 

to eat compassion's bread. 

And even in the midst of dread, 

and years of deepest pain, 

make us glad for these. 

For there especially you are ever present as the guide. 

You show us secret splendors through your works and ways, 

You teach our hands new crafts, 

new handiwork through these. 

So may this grace, this graciousness be ours, 

and rest upon us now and evermore we pray. 

Amen 

Psalm 90:12-17

 Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman