"This is why I weep and my eyes overflow with tears. No one is near to comfort me, no one to restore my spirit. My children are destitute because the enemy has prevailed" (Lam 1:16).
We walked into the worship service. I pushed my Mom's wheelchair into the room among many, many others. This was no ordinary worship service. This wasn't our first time. The organizer recognized us and asked if we would assist in handing out the songbooks.
About only 20% of the participants could actually use them. For most of them it sat on their laps. "Why does life have to be reduced to this?" I questioned and prayed silently to the Lord. "If Jesus walked through this room, how many would He restore?" I continued to ponder. You see, I was in a dementia and Alzheimer's elderly care nursing home unit where my mom resided. A few chairs over sat the father of my older sisters' longtime best friend. Next to him was my brother-in-law's grandmother.
They were all once successful people - doctors, lawyers, business leaders, and stay-at home moms. They had, at one time, lived in fine southern homes. But they now lived in one-half of a single room. Some patients could recognize their loved ones, others could not.
The service began with singing. Only a few voices could be heard among the patients. A simple message followed. Then, something remarkable happened. The speaker said they would now close with a well-known song. It began this way; "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." Suddenly, the voices in the room got louder. Patients that were not singing before were now singing. I looked over at my mom. She was whistling the tune.
Yes, the presence of Jesus was walking through the room. But it wasn't in the way I thought He'd come. Sometimes the presence of God can show up in the smallest and simplest acts.