From Grief to Gratitude (Not by chance encounters)

Last week I went to the nursing home to clean out my dad’s stuff, donate things, and take home what we had decided to keep.  I was first greeted by Margaret, one of the three ladies who live in the first room by the back door.  I always enter by that door, and so it became natural to greet these women and speak with them for a little while. 

Margaret, who is a stroke victim, saw me and with her one good hand firmly gripped on the wheelchair, began wheeling toward me fast as she could.  When she stopped in front of me, burst into tears, and proclaimed in her stuttering voice, “Your daddy died.  We won’t see you anymore!”   My immediate reaction was to comfort her and tell her, that I would not abandon her.  Then on to my dad’s old room, and from his roommate, Johnel, I got the same exact reaction and gave the same response.  As I walked around saying hello to the residents and the nurses, the same thing happened over and over again. It occurred to me that although this may have been a natural response from them, because of the years I have visited there, that there was another possibility.  It was totally possible that God was speaking to me through these souls.  So I made a promise to go back to visit. 

This week, I kept that promise.  I took Johnel his usual hamburger, took Margaret some CDs from church, hugged a few others and actually took the time to learn something about their lives.  As I was finishing my visit last evening, Doris came out of her room and handed me a note.  It said, “To my new friend, love Doris.”  Doris had come to me the day after my dad passed and said, “Anyone gets a hug from you, gets blessed.”  I thought about that.  The residents may feel like they are getting blessed, but mathematically speaking, who gets the greater benefit?  Each of them gets one hug.  If I hug ten of them, I get ten hugs. 

I left there feeling blest and headed to Michael’s Art store.  My office had taken up a donation for me, and purchased a gift card.  I figured I could use that to buy some canvas and paint and perhaps painting might ease that pain I feel from time to time when I think about my dad. 

I searched around, looking for the best deal and found the biggest canvas I could find.  I have plans for this, I thought.  Picked up some paint too, and then headed to my car. 

As I stood there trying to fit it in my trunk, a man wearing a backpack and looking forlorn was walking past my car.  He said to me, “You can put that seat down and put it in through there.”  I tried, but it still would not fit, and as he stood there watching my feeble efforts, He said, “My mother just died” and began to cry.  Immediately, my entire being was awakened with the need to say something comforting, but all I could muster up was, “I know how you feel, my dad just died.”  As we both stood there with tears in our eyes, it became clear to me from his speech that he had a mental disability. Of course, the usual thoughts came up- I am standing in a parking lot in the dark, in close proximity to someone I don’t know, who clearly is not with it, maybe he will hurt me, maybe he is lying so he can rob me, etcetera, etcetera. However, something else was awakened inside of me also, the dire necessity to comfort this man.  So he told me of his situation, his mom had been his caretaker, she had recently died, his family wanted to move him to Portland, Oregon, and he did not want to go, and I interrupted with, “Because you have a routine.” His eyes grew wide open with amazement, and he said, “How did you know that?”   And how did I know?  Because I was in the same boat?  Or because the spirit of God was telling me?  Over the course of our 20 minute long conversation, I learned his name was Gus, that most people would not talk to him, that he felt he was a sinner and going to hell, and that he was so lonely and grieving he wanted to end his life, but could not figure out how to do it.  I grabbed his hand and we prayed in that parking lot, in the dark, with onlookers from Michaels thinking that the man was trying to mug me. 

Was it chance that this man, who shared the same grief I had just walked past my car?  I do not think so, nor did Gus.  When we left the parking lot, he wandering off back toward wherever it is he stays, and I getting into my car in amazement, the crowd dispersing, my thoughts were that God provides chances in your life to bless you.  Perhaps in those chances you were at that place at that time to bless someone else.  Maybe those chance encounters are not just chance. The Lord knew all along what time I would be at the parking lot.  He knew when Gus would be there.  He knew when I spoke to someone at the nursing home they would become my friend.  He knew they needed me, and that I need to be needed.  But He also knew that I needed them.  To reaffirm my faith in God’s interaction with people.  To let me know He is near me.  To comfort my own heart by comforting others. 

Those encounters were not just by chance.  They were by the design of my Maker.  I might be blessed enough for others to see a glimpse of my Savior in me.

Please listen to the song and let it bless you. 

In His love, Susie