Renewed By Day
Stories
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Contents
"Renewed by Day" by Peter Andrew Smith
"Why Me?" by C. David McKirachan
* * * * * * * *
Renewed Day by Day
by Peter Andrew Smith
2 Corinthians 4:13--5:1
The two young women hesitated as they passed through the doors of the nursing home.
Suzie turned to Joan. "I want to go home."
"Me too," Joan said. "But you know we have to spend an afternoon here to get course credit."
"I don't understand why," Suzie said. "I know old people lose their bodies and minds. What else do we need to know about aging?"
Joan shushed her as a woman wearing a name tag that read 'Administrator' came around the corner.
"You girls must be from the school," she said shaking their hands. "The residents are so happy that you will be visiting with them today."
"We're happy to be here," Joan said nudging Suzie who forced a smile.
"The two ladies you'll be visiting with are Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Van Burken," the Administrator said pausing in front of a room. "Now Mrs Kelly has some dementia so she might repeat herself a bit."
Suzie gave Joan a push toward the door.
"I guess I'll visit with her," Joan said.
"That leaves Mrs. Van Burken for you then." The Administrator led Suzie a bit further down the hallway and pointed toward an open door. "You're in for a treat she is a real gem."
Suzie reluctantly stepped into the room. Inside was a wizened up old woman hunched over in a wheelchair with an empty chair seated across from her. The woman said something so softly that Suzie couldn't hear her.
"I'm sorry I didn't hear you," Suzie said. The woman gestured with a misshapen hand. Suzie took a few steps closer.
"So," the woman said between laboured breaths, "You are from the school?"
Suzie nodded.
"Sit down dear," the woman said very softly.
Suzie sat in the chair. The old woman grimaced in pain as she moved her head to look at Suzie. They stared at each other for a few moments.
"Going to be a long afternoon," the old woman finally said. "Unless you say something."
"Are you okay?" Suzie asked trying not to fidget in her chair.
"I'm doing better than you."
"I mean do you want me to get the nurse or something? You look like you are in pain." Suzy started to get up. "Maybe I should come back another time."
"This body of mine is pretty much always in pain." She held out a twisted hand. "What would help is a bit of company. My name is Dolly."
Suzie cautiously took the offered hand and introduced herself. "I have some questions I'm supposed to get answered for my presentation."
"That's a good place to start."
Suzie began to list off the questions and took notes as Dolly softly and persistently answered where she was from, a bit about her life, and what living in a nursing home was like. Suzie stopped fidgeting and even found herself nodding and smiling as the old woman spoke.
"My husband died and we have no family near so I thought it would be more fun to be surrounded by people then in that little apartment all by myself and it is," Dolly said. "In this chair and with my other problems I don't think I could live anywhere else."
"So you like living here?"
"The food is okay except for the meatloaf." Dolly stuck out her tongue. "Yuck."
Suzie laughed. "Our cafeteria is like that at school."
"Tell me about it."
Suzie told her about herself, her hobbies, and her best friend Joan.
"She's visiting here this afternoon too," Suzie said. "With a Mrs. Kelley."
Dolly chuckled. "Well one thing is for certain. Hazel Kelley will talk off Joan's ear just like I have talked off your ear."
"I don't mind at all," Suzie said. "You've lived an interesting life and I have what I need for my presentation."
"I'm glad you learned some things for your class," Dolly said. "It does my heart good to talk with a young person. Sometimes it gets depressing seeing all the older people here so focussed on their pains and problems instead of living the life God blesses us with."
Suzie furrowed her brow. "But you are stuck in a wheelchair and are in so much pain. I don't think I could be as brave as you are."
"You are very kind dear but I will tell you a secret." Dolly leaned closer to her. "Bravery has nothing to do with it. It is all about faith."
"I don't understand."
"Do you go to church?" Dolly asked.
"Sometimes."
"When I start to feel sorry for myself I remember how much God cares about me. This body may be wasting away around me but that doesn't stop God from growing my faith every day." Dolly smiled. "One day I will be freed from this pain and experience what God has planned for me."
"So you aren't afraid to die?" Suzie asked.
"No, I'm not and because I believe in Jesus I'm not afraid to live either. I know that each day is a chance for God to make me a better person." Dolly looked past Suzie into the hallway. "I think that your friend is waiting for you."
"Thanks for talking with me." Suzie packed up her notes.
"It was my pleasure," Dolly replied as Suzie headed into the hallway.
"Come on," Joan whispered. "Let's get out of here as fast as we can. This place is worse than we thought it would be."
Suzie looked back at Dolly sitting slumped over in the wheelchair. "Just a second."
She returned to the room and knelt down so Dolly didn't have to move to see her.
"Forget something?" Dolly asked.
Suzie nodded. "Can I come back and visit with you?"
A smile broke across Dolly's wrinkled face. "Anytime dear, anytime."
Suzie touched the woman's hand gently and then joined her friend in the hallway.
"Now I'm ready to go," she said.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
Why Me?
by C. David McKirachan
Psalm 130
The language of deserving, a system of earning and getting paid is so much a part of us that it's hard to lay down no matter how much we hear of grace. We hear the verdict of the jury of tests, and as the doctor's words roll down telling us of execution by tumor we protest our innocence. As if guilt made the beast within us grow. "Why me?" A question to defend us, to trump tragedy with reason, and so set it right somehow.
There is guilt aplenty. We are responsible for agony and apathy, commission and omission swirl thick in our daily routines. We hurt others we don't even know. We direct our blame and swallow our guilt using the same systems of earning, accomplishing little accept separating ourselves from reconciliation and hope. You'd think pain would teach us. But we don't change our behavior or reconsider our systems useless as they are. No matter where we go we are wounded by judgment.
To consider grace, free and available seems as much a sin and one of the ten. How could we leave our systems of guilt behind? How would we know whom we should hate? But even in our insane self destructive stubbornness, the One who made us continues to offer a way through the lonely darkness to another place. Robert Frost spoke of such in his "Death of a Hired Man."
"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."
"I should have called it something you somehow haven't to deserve."
There is no question there, just acceptance of the one at the door, however useless we may be. That is a definition of home that works. It is the kingdom of God, founded on love that will not let us go.
Thanks be to God.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 10, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Renewed by Day" by Peter Andrew Smith
"Why Me?" by C. David McKirachan
* * * * * * * *
Renewed Day by Day
by Peter Andrew Smith
2 Corinthians 4:13--5:1
The two young women hesitated as they passed through the doors of the nursing home.
Suzie turned to Joan. "I want to go home."
"Me too," Joan said. "But you know we have to spend an afternoon here to get course credit."
"I don't understand why," Suzie said. "I know old people lose their bodies and minds. What else do we need to know about aging?"
Joan shushed her as a woman wearing a name tag that read 'Administrator' came around the corner.
"You girls must be from the school," she said shaking their hands. "The residents are so happy that you will be visiting with them today."
"We're happy to be here," Joan said nudging Suzie who forced a smile.
"The two ladies you'll be visiting with are Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Van Burken," the Administrator said pausing in front of a room. "Now Mrs Kelly has some dementia so she might repeat herself a bit."
Suzie gave Joan a push toward the door.
"I guess I'll visit with her," Joan said.
"That leaves Mrs. Van Burken for you then." The Administrator led Suzie a bit further down the hallway and pointed toward an open door. "You're in for a treat she is a real gem."
Suzie reluctantly stepped into the room. Inside was a wizened up old woman hunched over in a wheelchair with an empty chair seated across from her. The woman said something so softly that Suzie couldn't hear her.
"I'm sorry I didn't hear you," Suzie said. The woman gestured with a misshapen hand. Suzie took a few steps closer.
"So," the woman said between laboured breaths, "You are from the school?"
Suzie nodded.
"Sit down dear," the woman said very softly.
Suzie sat in the chair. The old woman grimaced in pain as she moved her head to look at Suzie. They stared at each other for a few moments.
"Going to be a long afternoon," the old woman finally said. "Unless you say something."
"Are you okay?" Suzie asked trying not to fidget in her chair.
"I'm doing better than you."
"I mean do you want me to get the nurse or something? You look like you are in pain." Suzy started to get up. "Maybe I should come back another time."
"This body of mine is pretty much always in pain." She held out a twisted hand. "What would help is a bit of company. My name is Dolly."
Suzie cautiously took the offered hand and introduced herself. "I have some questions I'm supposed to get answered for my presentation."
"That's a good place to start."
Suzie began to list off the questions and took notes as Dolly softly and persistently answered where she was from, a bit about her life, and what living in a nursing home was like. Suzie stopped fidgeting and even found herself nodding and smiling as the old woman spoke.
"My husband died and we have no family near so I thought it would be more fun to be surrounded by people then in that little apartment all by myself and it is," Dolly said. "In this chair and with my other problems I don't think I could live anywhere else."
"So you like living here?"
"The food is okay except for the meatloaf." Dolly stuck out her tongue. "Yuck."
Suzie laughed. "Our cafeteria is like that at school."
"Tell me about it."
Suzie told her about herself, her hobbies, and her best friend Joan.
"She's visiting here this afternoon too," Suzie said. "With a Mrs. Kelley."
Dolly chuckled. "Well one thing is for certain. Hazel Kelley will talk off Joan's ear just like I have talked off your ear."
"I don't mind at all," Suzie said. "You've lived an interesting life and I have what I need for my presentation."
"I'm glad you learned some things for your class," Dolly said. "It does my heart good to talk with a young person. Sometimes it gets depressing seeing all the older people here so focussed on their pains and problems instead of living the life God blesses us with."
Suzie furrowed her brow. "But you are stuck in a wheelchair and are in so much pain. I don't think I could be as brave as you are."
"You are very kind dear but I will tell you a secret." Dolly leaned closer to her. "Bravery has nothing to do with it. It is all about faith."
"I don't understand."
"Do you go to church?" Dolly asked.
"Sometimes."
"When I start to feel sorry for myself I remember how much God cares about me. This body may be wasting away around me but that doesn't stop God from growing my faith every day." Dolly smiled. "One day I will be freed from this pain and experience what God has planned for me."
"So you aren't afraid to die?" Suzie asked.
"No, I'm not and because I believe in Jesus I'm not afraid to live either. I know that each day is a chance for God to make me a better person." Dolly looked past Suzie into the hallway. "I think that your friend is waiting for you."
"Thanks for talking with me." Suzie packed up her notes.
"It was my pleasure," Dolly replied as Suzie headed into the hallway.
"Come on," Joan whispered. "Let's get out of here as fast as we can. This place is worse than we thought it would be."
Suzie looked back at Dolly sitting slumped over in the wheelchair. "Just a second."
She returned to the room and knelt down so Dolly didn't have to move to see her.
"Forget something?" Dolly asked.
Suzie nodded. "Can I come back and visit with you?"
A smile broke across Dolly's wrinkled face. "Anytime dear, anytime."
Suzie touched the woman's hand gently and then joined her friend in the hallway.
"Now I'm ready to go," she said.
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada who currently serves at St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things Are Ready (CSS), a book of lectionary-based communion prayers, as well as many stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
Why Me?
by C. David McKirachan
Psalm 130
The language of deserving, a system of earning and getting paid is so much a part of us that it's hard to lay down no matter how much we hear of grace. We hear the verdict of the jury of tests, and as the doctor's words roll down telling us of execution by tumor we protest our innocence. As if guilt made the beast within us grow. "Why me?" A question to defend us, to trump tragedy with reason, and so set it right somehow.
There is guilt aplenty. We are responsible for agony and apathy, commission and omission swirl thick in our daily routines. We hurt others we don't even know. We direct our blame and swallow our guilt using the same systems of earning, accomplishing little accept separating ourselves from reconciliation and hope. You'd think pain would teach us. But we don't change our behavior or reconsider our systems useless as they are. No matter where we go we are wounded by judgment.
To consider grace, free and available seems as much a sin and one of the ten. How could we leave our systems of guilt behind? How would we know whom we should hate? But even in our insane self destructive stubbornness, the One who made us continues to offer a way through the lonely darkness to another place. Robert Frost spoke of such in his "Death of a Hired Man."
"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."
"I should have called it something you somehow haven't to deserve."
There is no question there, just acceptance of the one at the door, however useless we may be. That is a definition of home that works. It is the kingdom of God, founded on love that will not let us go.
Thanks be to God.
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. McKirachan is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 10, 2012, issue.
Copyright 2012 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
