We have a neighbor behind us, who is a paraplegic, and he ended up in the hospital. He was in ICU for a week and now he is recuperating in a rehabilitation center.
He was in ICU for a week and no one knew.
He kept to himself. The only time he ventured out was to buy groceries. We met him through the fence in our backyard. Our boys were noisily playing as he barbecued some steak. They are naturally very curious about people around them and so they wasted no time in befriending him. He reciprocated with sugar-free popsicles whenever he saw them outside playing.
His story is full of pain. He was in the military in Vietnam (or Korea?) when they used Agent Orange to destroy the foliage in the jungles. As he inhaled the air surrounding him, the toxic vapors seeped into his nervous system and destroyed the nerves that control the lower half of his body. He is in constant pain, and alone.
This past summer he didn't barbecue in his backyard at all. We noticed, but we got too busy and would forget to check up on him.
Then last Friday, we received a call from him. He was in a local physical rehabilitation center and wondered if we could just look after his house while he recuperated.
We were so convicted. Especially me, because he had been on my heart for the past two weeks.
We have been praying for ways to touch our neighbors' lives. Believing for opportunities to saturate them with God's love. So we jumped at this opportunity.
We went to visit him at the rehab center. We brought him some things from his home that he requested, and we also brought "The Chronicles of Narnia" as well as some fruit in a pretty blue bowl.
As we walked down the hallway to his room, I noticed there was no laughter that came from the rooms. Only the hollow echoes of the television sitcoms punctuated the silence. No one smiled. This was a place full of people that were dying in one stage or another. Laughter and joy had long since been replaced by moans of pain and suffocating loneliness.
It was overwhelming sorrow that pervaded that building.
We sat and visited with our neighbor for a while. Making small talk as we tried to get to know each other better. His eyes are so full of pain and emptiness. I can only imagine how much he longs to be loved and belong.
Those same eyes of longing followed our footsteps as we left. Those silent stares of yearning appeared in every doorway as we passed. A hint of a smile from one lady as our children smiled at her.
We drove home in silence.
My husband and I finally spoke when we arrived home. He is burdened with a desire to do something, so am I. We are still praying about exactly what we are supposed to do. But those faces we saw have been indelibly marked on our hearts.
We wondered aloud, how many of those residents have no one to visit them? How many have grandchildren they never see? How many have no that cares whether they live or die? How many simply exist but never really live?
How many wonder if God has forgotten about them too, just as society has?
Matthew 25:36
"I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me."
Sometimes prison doesn't have bars on the doors...
FIVE IN THE POTTER'S HAND
2 comments:
I remember you telling us about him... I am gald that he called you guys, that is great! It sounds like a reach out too, which could change his life. You both are just the people to do it and impact him! Be blessed.
I'm sure there are countless sad stories like this that we never hear. May God open our eyes wide and fill our hearts with love for them. Every Christmas we want to turn the focus away from self and consumerism and do something more, but we never knew what to do. I guess that's because we live a self-centered, consumer-driven life the rest of the year, too.
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