Today was a day of tulips and joy. Our children arrive one by one, each bringing a special presence. They are all grown up and they are all beautiful, each in their own way...and each looking like a different family of tulips. Some straight and tall, some bright and beautiful, some quiet and gentle, but each with a strong stem. With them they brought the spirit of life and we drank it in like thirsty ground. H. did not know that some of our children were coming and every arrival brought him back to life. Then visitors from foreign lands came to visit, and anointed his feet with their tears (literally). Friends came by and brought food and drink and special yummy mangoes.
There was a lot of touching, a lot of healing, a lot of hugging. Hans was anointed in every conceivable way. His children anointed his feet, his head and yes, even his bum. Loving hands abounded. But hospice was also here and they took his vital signs and anointed his bum. Sweet people from the admissions office came, then the eval. nurse who made him laugh and was very very patient. Then our own friends who are doctors and nurses themselves came and gave us a mature knowledgeable summary of his condition. No one ever had so much attention. Then there were our abbey people who brought favorite dishes and more tears.
The expression of love was palpable. There is healing in the body of Christ. Did we resurrect him from the dead? Tomorrow will be another day of love, more children arrive. More hospice nurses bringing gifts. Perhaps we will have to move his bed into the backyard. This is not the kind of vigil I had expected.
The scene takes me back to 1990 in Pasadena. We had only been in Pasadena for two days, still trying to get our city legs in place, when Ralph Winter insisted that we walk over to Donald McGavran's house and say goodbye to him. He was dying. I had read all of McGavran's books on church growth before going to seminary. His books brought a bright and desperately needed light into my missionary work. So much of the mysteries of evangelization had been solved by only a few brilliant concepts. I couldn't believe that Ralph was pushing us to go into his darling little cottage. But in we went. There in the most beautiful living room I had ever seen, was a narrow hospital bed that was waist high. The room was surrounded by french doors and the green plants from the outdoors visually invaded the atmosphere. In the middle of the lay a small tiny dying man. As soon as I saw him, I immediately walked over and began profusely thanking him, on behalf of all missionaries, for helping us to understand what factors served as barriers to the spread of the Gospel. McGavran's principles lay the foundation for the modern missionary movement. But I found myself that day weeping at his feet in thanksgiving. How beautiful were those feet.
And today, the people who came today to weep over Han's feet, were not weeping just for the sorrows of a brother in Christ, but because he had illuminated the Word of God for them, he gave them light, he was the messenger of the good news which drew them close to their God. These tears were god-tears and they shall be diamonds in Hans' crown forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment