We had a visitor at church last Sunday. After the service he wanted to talk to me. He told me his grandmother was a member of our church, and her request is that when she dies, whoever is pastor of this church is to conduct her funeral, so for now, that would be me.
Well, I thought I should go meet her while she’s still alive, so I found out what nursing home she is at. I was told she is in her 90s and had just recently lost her sight. I expected to find a tiny frail woman curled up in her bed, bitter at her circumstances, saying Lord take me home already. I’ve seen a lot of those, including my grandmother.
Yesterday, I got to her room, and through the open door I could see the bed was empty. I knocked on the post, and was invited inside by the most chipper voice. Must be a nurse, I thought. I slowly walked in and peered around the corner and found myself face to face with happiness. The woman was sitting in a wheelchair, but she had the most extraordinary posture. Everything about her smiled, from her mouth to her voice to her sightless eyes.
She didn’t talk about death once while I was there. Instead she talked about life. She told me her story so plainly I felt I was there. I love it when I go to give a blessing and receive one in return.
I’m in Philippians in my daily readings and I shared with her chapter 2, verses 13 and 14. “It is God who is at work in you. . . do all things without grumbling.”
I’m surprised she didn’t tell me, “Duh!”
Strong love, strange peace.
