Friday, December 29, 2006

Dear God,

I went to church yesterday. I was carrying three poinsettias, a white, a pink, and a red, intended for church members in the Alzheimer's unit. I saw about a dozen patients gathered in the carpeted area, mostly in wheelchairs. I heard someone speaking but was not aware I was walking into a worship service.

Then I saw my church family, all three of them, Max, Francis and Lillian. I greeted each one with a smile since I had no free hand. I placed the flowers on a table, took off my coat, waved to each one, then sat down. They were ready for worship and so was I. The 70 something chaplain was black, spirited and gentle. He passed out three song books. The wife of one of my parishoners introduced me as their pastor. "We'll have to be on our toes!" He said to the gathering congregation.

We sang familiar songs, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus", "Amazing Grace", "Blessed Assurance". I watched the faces of these aged men and women battling for power over their memory. Lillian sang out as the preacher went around with his mike permitting each one a solo. She knew every word by heart, no songbook for Lillian. I was surprised. The last time I saw her, she was confused. Not today!

The chaplain asked Gary, a middle aged man to help him serve communion. From Chicago he is a truck driver who weekly comes to visit his father, a resident for many years. Most were able to partake in the holy supper. The few who could not had the communion bread soaked in juice brush their lips. He touched their heads with a blessing.

One woman wept during the hymns. I got up and walked over to her, taking hold of her hand. The only thing I could make out was, "You have a nice hand." Her mind is shattered by a disease so tenacious that it will literally destroy every memory or the ability to respond to the memories as they arise. Locked away in a steel trap, tears replace the voiced thoughts. I held onto her tightly.

As the clergyman read the scripture and prayed for us, he wished the congregants the peace of Christ. He touched each one then came over to me. Ron had received his call to ministry when he was in his late 60's. He went to seminary and was ordained when he was 72. "This is a good fit for me." He said. He's right. He is wonderful to his people. They seem to love him too.

I spent the next hour visiting privately with each member of my church family. I listened to wives talk about their husbands who are moment by moment slipping away from them. I talked with Lillian and prayed. As I made ready to leave, the same chairs were being wheeled to the dining area for lunch.

I punched in the security code unlocking the exit. I looked back over my shoulder realizing once again the fragility of life. These vulnerable residents had been to church. They had communed with God. And I had joined them, a rare gift of God.

Each child of God
witnessed your light today,
illumining the soul.
The angels and saints
filled the seats and floors
around these precious ones.
They sang
the songs of faith
to those
who could not sing.
They breathed
their spirit into them,
the air of the God.
And God himself
was present.
I know;
I saw him
in their worn faces.
I walked
into worship
and drank
in the spirit
of the Living God,
a testimony
of God's faithfulness.

Love to you always, Andrea