So, the best church service ever
I was leaving work on Father’s Day. I think the last time I went to church was on a Father’s day a year or more back…
They talked about fathers and sons. They talked about mentorship of sons for the next generation. It was important. It was vital. Son’s had that type of importance. Daughters on the other hand… Nothing. That is all. It had nothing to do with me. I couldn’t be a part of it. There was no plan for mentorship for the daughters because that wasn’t religiously pc? Wait is that even possible? I hope you get my drift. Daughters weren’t in the picture. When it comes to fathers, daughters aren’t relevant. That meant me. I felt excluded from the “family” nonetheless.
So yeah, it was Father’s Day again. I felt myself yearning and reaching out to my spiritual Father. I was going to clock out. I work around geriatric patients. I love them. I do everything in my power to respect them and make them smile. While I was leaving, they were about to start a church service. More than one called out to me. I had plans to go hang out with my fiancés father in several hours. They told me they were having church, and I should sit with them. I think I had prayed to find a good church. I know this opportunity won’t happen all the time with my schedule. I took it.
I cannot remember the last time I had people that wanted me to sit with them that badly in a church. In a nice way. I was completely surrounded by them. Not to “save” or change my heathen butt. You know, to their liking? I couldn’t resist. Some ladies sang. It was nice. Even with my history, I didn’t know the words to some of the songs. My muse handed me a hymnal. I opened it and was…
Right to left, bottom to top?! Wha?
WHOA! I wasn’t used to that. Seemed like millions of songs. Where in the world was the index? What were they saying anyway? I don’t even know the song title. I don’t know what denomination they were. They can thank their lucky stars that I didn’t know the lyrics. Singing is not my strong point.
The patients clapped and were happy. They had a sense of unity. It was peaceful and beautiful. That was probably some of the most excitement and social activity that they had had all day. They touched my heart.
They Reached in and Grabbed my Heart
I looked around the room. I saw the back of several heads with thinning hair, men and women. I saw beautiful precious people, with rich history and lives, whose frail bodies were now mobilized by wheelchairs. I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t feel inadequate. I felt welcome. I felt a joy in my heart for just having the opportunity to spend some time with these people, while off of the clock.
A lady preacher got up. She was smiling. Wouldn’t you know it? She talked about God’s love. She let me know in His book, I am good enough. I shouldn’t give up. Not to worry. To have peace, hope and love. See, I don’t care what anyone believes; I cannot find fault with those topics. Those are cards I play to get up when I feel discouraged.
When I left, I felt encouraged. My buddies were beaming. I did not feel beat down, or that all of my obvious shortcomings were brought to the forefront of my mind. I felt so happy. I hoped I had made those patients day, as much as they had just made mine. In that “church” I was welcome. I was loved. I was encouraged. They were too. I will never forget that day. The day the patients touched my heart, more than they will even know. The day with the best church service ever. I still managed to make it to the get together on time.