I Know You Are There

Last week was a busy week for me, or what is called busy for an old long-retired guy like me.  The cleaning lady texted me asking if she could come over in a couple of days, and I responded “No problem” --- and began walking through the house picking up, arranging, and, well, cleaning house before the cleaning lady came.  I know over the many years she has worked with me at least once or twice I had forgotten to do that before she came --- or she forgot to give me the warning text.  As a result of those times, I am sure she knows now messy I am.  But still, last week (like always) I made sure to wash the dirty dishes (or hide them in the dishwasher) and wash the pile of dirty clothes sitting on the floor beside the hamper in my bedroom (or hide them in the hamper).  And sometimes I surprised myself by opening the hamper and seeing it was already full from the dirty clothes I hid in there last month. But last week, I was prepared.

Last week was also a hospital run for a friend.  While I was visiting her playing games, she said she was dizzy and asked me to take her to urgent care.  She has nearby kids, but “they have very busy lives”, as she says.  She knows they love her, but she knows I am a friend she can count on to drop everything when she calls. Last week, her dizzy spell --- and subsequent ER tests --- resulted in her surgery for a heart pacemaker to be installed.  One of her kids flew in from Washington D.C. to be with her.  She called me yesterday from the rehab center --- the one she chose near my house --- and asked if I could take her home from there this afternoon.  I was out getting dinner when she called, so I couldn’t check my calendar (which hangs on the side of the fridge) for any appointments, but regardless I responded: “No problem.  Just call me when you are ready; I’ll be there.”  And she responded: “Thank you.  I never feel alone; I know you are there if I need you.”

I think I wrote here before about how I recently read a short story about St. Therese of Lisieux, and her “little way” of helping others, and how reading about her I suddenly realized that I was acting in her “little way” of loving my neighbor, like a small imitation of Christ, like an answer to my vigil candle prayer each week: “Lord, make me a small light in this world, in imitation of You.”  Reading that short story of St Therese reminded me how she said she’d spend her time in heaven, praying for us here on earth.  And I realized, I was in some small ways an answer to her small prayers.

I often get reminders, like that story I read, while I am in the adoration chapel and reading some spiritual book.  I know Jesus is present there in the chapel, on the altar in front of me, and I often stop to talk to Him.  But sometimes the words I am reading suddenly strike me, and I know they not only apply to me, but also that He is saying them to me, as He sits not on the altar, but right there at my side, hugging me.  And I tell Him through my tears of joy at feeling His presence, “I know I am never alone.  You are always there.”

Last night I read the concluding chapter in a book about women in the bible titled: The Women of the Bible Speak, by Shannon Bream.  I read a chapter about a different woman from the bible each night and, to be honest, kind of felt that the book was written mainly for women.  For me, the words were old stories from the bible, and like old news in the paper I found myself somewhat skimming them --- until suddenly words from that last chapter which I was reading last night began speaking to me:

“What Jesus said to her (the woman at the well) was incredible, but what was even more stunning was what He didn’t say: He didn’t tell her; Before you can become my messenger, you need to go get rid of your sleazy boyfriend.  He didn’t insist she clean up everything in her life before she could possibly accept His message.  How many of us do exactly the opposite of what the Samaritan woman did here?  If you’ve been fortunate enough to have someone come clean your home, have you ever rushed around tidying up before the cleaner arrived, so they wouldn’t know how truly messy your house was?  This is exactly what we look like when we assume Jesus wants us to get our lives in order before He can come in and start cleaning up and repairing the flaws and damages we have.  That’s backward.  Jesus enters our lives to save us, and as He does His work in us, our lives begin to look more like His.  The Samaritan woman got the order right.”

“John 4 tells us many were converted because of her testimony; and that testimony most certainly included the unsavory parts:

Many of the Samaritans from the town believed in Him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.”  So when the Samaritans came to Him, they urged Him to stay with them, and He stayed two days.  And because of His words many more became believers.  (John 4:39-41)

A woman so flawed and shamed that she trudged to the well alone in the most scorching part of the day became the vessel for delivering the good news.  The Messiah had come!

What a beautiful picture of grace.  Over and over throughout Scripture, we see God the Father, and then God in the form of His Son, Jesus, use people who are not among the top echelons of society as either esteemed religious leaders or aristocratic elites.  How much more grace could we extend to one another?  What about to new believers who may not know Malachi from Matthew or exactly how to practice Communion?  Or those who don’t show up in the right outfit or haven’t mastered Christian lingo just yet?  Rather than silently judge them or snicker at their expense, let’s remember each of them is exactly the kind of person Jesus repeatedly used in order to bring His message to life.  It’s when we are most wretched and lost that we most need Him.  What joy we should have in seeing someone --- maybe even ourselves --- find His eternal message of hope and truth in the place of deepest sin and need.”

 

And reading those words, I felt His hug, and His saying “You are never alone; I am always here.”

I sometimes have done little things, in little ways, but He showed me that they mattered to those people I did them for.  They really mattered.  It helped in some way change those people to be who He created them to be.  No lecturing to them, no evangelizing, no explaining the truth (from my view) would have ever mattered as much to them as those little things.  And then He also showed me that those little things mattered to Him.  That was who He made ME to be:  not some saint, not some perfect dad, not even some all-wise businessman.  Just a little light in the world, that’s all He wants me to be.   

It's all He wants you to be.