But this is a people plundered and despoiled; all of them are trapped in caves or hidden away in prisons; They have become a prey with none to deliver them, and a spoil, with none to say, Give them back! Who among you will give ear to this? Who will give heed and listen hereafter? -Isaiah 42:22-23
I was playing guitar and worshipping at Jacob's Well this afternoon. As I was playing and looking out at the neighborhood, I heard the Spirit say to take the music out into the streets. To leave the building and walk. At first I was like...huh? Ok, ummm...well, sure. So I strapped it on my back and took a walk.
I went down a dirt alley and around a corner and there was this old man sitting on his porch watching his dog chase a ball in the overgrown weeds that masqueraded as a yard.
His name was Don and he has Alzheimer's.
We struck up a conversation after he asked me if I was going to play some music in the streets. I knew then that there was music playing already...
He invited me in the fence and onto his porch. Then out came Roger and Larry both in their late forties probably but looked older than they should be due to life on this side of the tracks. Both were mentally slow but gentle as children, ready to shake a strangers hand and smile without a reason to smile...just because.
Then out came Linda, Don's wife and the caregiver of the clan. Older but sharp but wearing a dress that was way to short for such a lady. Don called her momma and after a half hour of watching her, it was obvious that it was her mothering love that evoked such a title. Then there was Betty, sweet but wary and sporting a nightgown in the heat of the afternoon day. And back in the shadows somewhere was Ida, 90 years old and back from the hospital.
They all were there to care for Ida and each other. They take turns being care givers and often end up just hanging out on the porch together talking to strangers that pass by.
All were invited to the church just around the corner and I must of gave Don the times of the service about every minute I was there...like a broken record he was, but as sweet and refreshing as lemonade on a hot summers day.
I left them with waves, warm good byes and promises from Don that they would be there this Sunday.
He will forget me as soon as I walk around the corner but I won't forget where he lives...
2 comments:
The mission field right outside the front door.
Man Eric, this kind of story just makes me well up inside. These too, like in your post of blessings of serving God, are some of those rich times that words fail to describe. When God graces the simplest things, they have a life or like you said-- "sweet and refreshing".
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