Читать книгу House Calls with Jesus - Jude Lee - Страница 8

Jesus, You Know

How are you, sir?

He sits in a wheelchair alone at the edge of the common room, sitting tentatively, shoulders tentative, face tentative, hands, hands held tentatively, poised as if he did not belong. He looks up startled, eyes wide. He has a gentle open face, almost like a deer’s face caught in headlights except that there is no fear, not really, just surprise and tentativeness.

How are you, sir? I ask gently again.

Sitting slowly on a nearby low table, I come alongside him and wait. He stares at me a long time. We sit in silence; we are bathed by a quiet tentativeness. I am full of Your Hope, O Lord, and he, he is tentative. He cocks his head:

You know why I am here? He half states, half asks.

I smile, shake my head no. He is surprised. He stares ahead, then away, and pauses a long time. He begins to speak. I can barely hear him. My glance at the unending noise of the huge TV in the corner catches his eye. He quickly goes to turn it off. The movement allows a shifting of position and poise. He settles into his wheelchair more.

I am not accustomed to being listened to. I was a teacher and I listened a lot but … his voice trails off.

But rarely did anyone listen to you?

He looks at me then full on, eyes intent upon me and nods.

That is right. Where are you from?

We talk a little then about who we are, visitors to the nursing home. He shakes his head.

Nowhere, his head inclines, where are you from?

I laugh. Oh, my background?

He smiles at my answer. He nods and continues to gaze at us, then he gazes at those around us. I wait gently with him.

You were about to say something?

He nods and remains silent. We wait with him.

Something is on your heart?

He looks up and away. There are no tears in his eyes but I sense them in his heart. The silence of his loneliness fills our space.

Bow down Your ear, O Lord, hear me;

For I am poor and needy. Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer;

And attend to the voice of my supplications.

In the day of my trouble I will call upon You,

For you will answer me.

(adapted from Psalm 86, NIV)

He shakes his head. He whispers:

I cannot believe you are sitting here waiting to listen to me.

We sit in silence then, a long silence, punctuated only by occasional soft sounds beginning in the back of his throat. It is too hard. He struggles, it is too much.

It is too hard right now? I ask.

He nods, trembling.

How ‘bout if we pray?

He looks then directly at me, gaze open, heart quiet in stillness and silence. He nods and we pray: Lord, Your Holy Spirit provides the praise and worship and the pleadings of this man’s heart. We lift him up in his agony of loneliness, his fear, his sense of abandonment, his grief and loss. We pray Your hope, Your grace, Your love to bring him to You for Your healing mercy. We acknowledge that by Your dying and rising, taking whatever has broken his heart and nailing it to the cross, he is a freed man in You, Jesus, a freed man in You. And Your call upon him is to:

Come, come, ye who are weary and heavy burdened,

And You O Lord will give him rest.

You ask that he take Your yoke upon him

and learn of You, Jesus.

For You are meek and lowly in heart

And he, he shall find rest for his soul.

Your yoke O Lord is easy.

Your burden is light.

(adapted from Matthew 11:28-30)

At the Amen he gazes long at us, very long and sighs, shakes his head and murmurs:

How did you know? How did you know?

It is Jesus, sir. It is Jesus. He knows.

Your love fills us and he shares his story: of illness, of the loss of his ability to do his work, of taking care of himself, of having to depend on others, of the need to be where he could be taken care of so his daughter would not be so overwhelmed. At the mention of his daughter he whispers:

She will come to see me, won’t she? It is not too far to come is it?

We remind him of Your love, of Your sovereignty, of Your grace, of Your answering prayer with mercy and grace in time of need, his need. We remind him how much You love him. He sighs and rests in You. For Jesus, You know. You know.