the old yellow chair

Sometimes one of the greatest gifts we can receive is knowing that others are aware of our struggles. I think that’s why our culture is so transparent in their status updates, tweets, fourquares, and here on wordpress. The transparency begs for others to become aware. In that awareness we feel that we are not alone, we feel that we can endure, we feel that somebody out there cares.

But one step closer to the life that relationships that God intended for us is to actually DO something about it. It’s pretty simple: “Care for the widows and orphans.” This is simplistic in scope but the true meaning of this that God wants for his people is to live in a way that you actually care for and do something for those around you that are struggling.

Most times I’m not very good at the DOING part. Usually I’m fairly observant and aware of what’s going on around me, but the action falls short. Sometimes there are people out there that get it right. It’s these times that encourage me to step up and live with others how I’m supposed to.

There is a small church in Three Fork, MT that got it right. You see, it starts with an old yellow chair. It’s worn and tattered but it is still pretty comfortable; it’s certainly more comfortable than the old wooden pews they had. In there church was a man that was one of the greatest. He was ornery at times, but had a heart of gold. He talked a lot, but it wasn’t out of vanity or conceit — it was out of a true desire to share the wisdom he’s earned throughout the years. He was frail and tired, his body was plagued with cancer, but his heart was bathed in love. His time on this Earth was ending but he still loved to go to church on Sundays. And then, the church noticed. They became aware of his struggles and his joys. They mourned his pains, and celebrated his life with Jesus. They saw that their old pews weren’t comfortable so they brought in a chair to the sanctuary for him to be more comfortable.

I mean…honestly….who does that??? It’s been a long while since I’ve heard of a church so receptive to it’s flock. It’s been a while since I’ve reacted to other’s plights with such proactivity and tender care. I love what they did. Because the truth of it all is that those that struggle aren’t nobodies. They aren’t robots that are on the fringe. They’re somebody’s son or daughter, they’re life-long friends, they’re fathers mothers, grandfathers or grandmothers. They’re people. And for me, this frail old man was my grandfather. He was old, frail, and in pain. But his heart was clothed in love, his stories dripping with wisdom, and so in love with Jesus.

This old man went to be with Jesus yesterday. For me it’s two grandpa’s I’ve lost in the past three weeks. For God, it’s two more children that have returned home. I take comfort knowing that they are all with Jesus. And I also take comfort knowing that his last few weeks on this Earth were spent with those that noticed, cared, and actively worked to love him back.