Last night, something totally unspectacular happened. Our church is one of several that visits a local nursing home to hold a little church service for the residents. The youngest resident is a 27-year-old man who receives oxygen through a nasal canula. The eldest is a little lady in a wheelchair who is now 101 and has a mind full of memories.
Typically, our services aren’t long. We sing a couple hymns to the accompaniment of a piano. Then anyone who has a prayer request can share it with the group. One of us visitors (anywhere from 6-12) will pray, and then one of us will share a 20-minute message from the Bible.
At the conclusion, we linger a little and chat with the residents, getting to know each other and sharing a little humor or tidbits from our daily lives. Nothing earth-shaking.
Last night, I wasn’t the one who had shared from God’s Word (I take my turn, but not last night). I was only one of several who had gone to be part of the group. So, when a little gray-haired woman in a wheelchair shook my hand and said, “Thank you for coming,” her words left a special imprint.
What had I done? Not much. I came, sang, listened, chatted, and slipped in a comment or two that sparked smiles. The investment of time hadn’t been huge. So, for what was she thankful? First, we remembered them. The old saying declares, “Out of sight, out of mind,” and I suppose nursing home residents know the feeling of being forgotten. Yet, when our group from church arrives and greets them with smiles and holds a humble church service for them, they not only enjoy the fresh faces of visitors, but they receive proof that they aren’t forgotten. Also, we treat them with respect, like peers, not as patients. Our simple conversations allow them to feel plugged in to the outside world, not just passing time inside the same walls.
True, any observer would declare nothing spectacular happened. Nothing worthy of a Hollywood movie. Nothing a journalist would write up for the local newspaper. Yet, we shared the love of God and brightened the evening of a group of people whose days on earth are winding down. And they say, “Thank you for coming.”
To make a positive difference in this world, you don’t need to pack enormous stadiums with people. You don’t need to be rich, famous, good-looking, or active in politics. If you’re willing to care for people, treat them with respect, and shine a little light into their lives, those small gestures have an impact. And that is pretty spectacular.