The Sojourner’s Quill

What Are We Doing Here?

Rae England

 

 

 

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This week I received a call from a  young woman from Bosnia, "Do you remember me?" she asked. Of course I    remembered her. She was the only child of a privileged family who lost  her mother during the war and her father shortly thereafter. I had to strain to understand her because of her accent and she struggled to find the words to describe her feelings. It seems that some really sad things have happened to her since the war. "I am calling," she said; "because I need to talk to someone who has shown me kindness." Over and over, until I was embarrassed, she told me how much my kindness had meant to her.
     How is it that we fail to understand how desperately every human heart longs for the caring touch of kindness? Nursing homes and hospitals are filled with people who have no visitors. As a patient struggles through the emotional turmoil at the end of their lives, the family often pulls away rather than draw near. Is there a sadder commentary on this "me first" society than the plight of the elderly?
    I first experienced this when I was 18 years old as my mother fought for her life in a hospital in Indianapolis, Indiana. The doctor had told me, "Your mother will not live more than one year," During the next year, she was hospitalized many times. Each day I drove to the hospital from work to sit with her. She was on a ward much of that time, so I visited with the patients in her room, I mailed their letters, brought them stamps, rubbed their backs -- simple things that required very little of me,

 

 


    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Each day when I arrived, I noticed the patients would be sitting up as if to greet me. My mother told me, "They know your footsteps.  From the time you come off the elevator, they begin to smile in anticipation of your coming." Can you imagine! Something so simple gave hope to patients who were overwhelmed by their circumstances.

It seems to me the first step is to allow our eyes to be opened. I often hear people say, "It's just too painful, I cannot bear to see such suffering." That same person then goes to worship or prayers as a commitment to the Christ who is suffering in the one upon whom they cannot look.  It is from these very ones that Christ beckons us to use assess his suffering.

It is our coming to Him in the least of these, without judging, without preconceived ideas, that He is able to heal us.  If you choose this way, you will cry buckets of tears for you will see, perhaps for the first time, that the suffering of Christ is at our hands.

What can we do?  Don't turn away.  Let the tears flow as you move to touch the life of your neighbor.  It may be to simply listen, to drive them to the doctor's office or the grocery or  to tell the clerk at the post office that you appreciate them.  Every person is struggling.  We are losing our  health, our family, friends and ultimately our very lives (as we know it).  Love your brother, love your sister, love your neighbor.  It is for this very purpose we were born.
    

 

Rae England directs Love in Action Int'l and lives in Garland, Texas.

Sojourner's Quill is a column that will run periodically featuring the insights and experiences of fellow travelers along this way. Our hope is that their stories will encourage us all and illumine our common path.

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