VISITATION

It’s on every pastor’s regular schedule.

Today I visited a beautiful lady who has Alzheimer’s. It takes her several minutes to respond to me when our visit first begins. I think it’s because she is absorbing the different ways I try to tell her who I am. Today, as we were still in the introductory stage, she raised her hand and I accepted the gesture. I sat in her wheelchair by her bed and talked and stroked her hand and forearm. I mentioned her husband several times, and complimented her on the mementos I noticed in her room.

As is usually the case, after I run out of things to say, I offer a prayer and am on my way telling her I’ll be back. But today was different. Today, I heard the Holy Spirit say, “Linger.” So I did. Even with a good deal of experience in finding things to say to someone who has trouble communicating, there is always a sense of isolation. There is always that feeling of, “Am I getting through? Am I doing enough? Am I making any difference? For what purpose does God want me to “linger”?

Then through the stillness of the moment, there came an overwhelming sense of peace as I stroked her fingers and she focused on me as though she could see to my very soul. I smiled. She smiled. I told her maybe the next time I came, I could bring my Bible (yes, I left the house without it today), and read her some scripture. She said, “Okay!”

“Maybe for today, I could sing something for you before I go. Would that be okay?”

“Yah!” she said, her eyes still holding mine in an unbroken gaze that made me feel like I had found the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

I began to sing. I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses . . .

As the verse ended she abruptly turned her head to the wall, averting her attention. I started another verse as I directed my attention where hers was - a wall-hanging with a garden and a gnome in the center. She knew. She knew I was singing about the garden.  She was telling me she knew. Finishing the verse, I pointed to the colors, expressing delight in their vibrancy and beauty. She looked back at me with that riveting gaze that made me burst with joy that I’m the one who gets to make these pastoral visits. I squeezed her hand as I leaned in to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you again soon,” I said, calling her by name.

“Yah,” she said.

We smiled. I lingered.

“Bye for now.”

“Bye,” she said, with a smile as big as ever I’ve seen on anyone.

I walked to my car knowing I was walking away from a God-moment - a visitation that happens when the Spirit says, “linger” and we trust and obey. If only I would learn to do that more.

I went to a nursing home today to bless a member. I came away with a blessing worth more than all the gold at the end of any rainbow.

Prayer:

Thank you, Lord, for your blessings.