I went to see a friend today. She is borderline hospice. It was a bittersweet visit; bitter at the scene of the deterioration of this once glamorous woman with the sweet that Jesus successfully rescued us from us.
I was escorted into her bedroom which has become her living room, her office, her slumber pad, and her eventual casket of sorts. The view was stark as well as painful.
My friend is now a skeleton with beautiful eyes. No hair. No muscle. Her arms fold as an ironing board. She is frightfully precious.
I took her a plant with blooms. At the sight she began to weep. The flowers are pretty green and purple. I then pulled a brown bulb from my pocket. My friend, don't be afraid. This bulb is you today. This plant is you next week. The bulb cannot imagine the beauty it will become in the future. Such is only a promise of God. But....you can be sure you are about to become more than you can imagine.
We visited a bit. I asked if she was afraid. She is not. We prayed...well I prayed and she agreed. It was both a sensitive and meaningful visit for both of us. Jesus was our guest and our theme. We rehearsed how we are all right because he became all of our wrongs; II Cor. 5:21.
We did not discuss whether is was all right for the church to have a kitchen or a garage sale. The topic of whether Max should be/could be a workshop speaker was not given attention. There was no debate regarding mixed swimming. Neither of us referenced Billy Graham's doctrines nor Joel Osteen's for that matter.
Oh, I don't know. I guess when one in the room is merely a failing skeleton with beautiful eyes we just didn't feel like wrangling over church stuff that both of us at one time were led to believe was of utmost importance.