I received this scripture by email one morning - "Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord
Jesus Christ unto eternal life." (Jude 1:21,NKJ)
I was struck by the words, “looking for the mercy.”
I believe this is a big part of being a Christ follower – we are to be looking
for evidence of His hand everywhere we go, watching for His grace and mercy,
looking for signs of His incomparable love. Sometimes we are to be that hand
ourselves.
Some time ago I was in a hospital gift shop,
stocking shelves with Christian books. A young woman asked me about the flowers
in a nearby display case. Her eyes were hopeful but I had to
disappoint her and explain that I did not work in the shop. I was just there to
stock the book rack. I pointed to two ladies at the front counter. “Maybe they
can help,” I said.
She nodded, stared at the flower display and sighed. “I’m not really
sure what I want.”
I took note of her dress then – a baseball cap pulled over messy hair; a
thin pair of pyjama bottoms topped by a hospital issue housecoat wrapped around
a frail frame; pull-on terrycloth slippers, two sizes too big.
“My friend is dying,” she said, then turned back to me. “I am too.”
I put my clipboard down and waited. Her story unfolded in simple
language, the words slipping from her mouth almost as though rehearsed. She
reached into a pocket and pulled out a picture of her seven year old daughter.
I could see the resemblance. She smiled when I mentioned it and went on to say
there was a surgery that she was hoping for – highly experimental, there was
only one doctor in the country who could do it and he just happened to live in
a nearby city. But then her voice fell and I had to lean close to hear. Her
friend had had the surgery. She was still dying.
The conversation turned to the word hope then. She had hope they would
agree to do the surgery, hope that, unlike her friend, she would recover, hope
that she would live to watch her daughter grow up.
She said a pastor came to visit sometimes and “we say our small prayers
together. They seem small, just words, but maybe not, eh?” Again that hopeful
look in her eyes.
I was praying small prayers right then. She’s so young, Lord. Please. Please.
Then she was gone and I resumed stocking the rack. I do it once a month and in that hospital, the rack is usually almost empty by the time I return. As I filled the pockets with books I was acutely aware of their contents. They hold pages about the love and mercy of Jesus, pages filled with stories of courage and faith, pages of humour to lift a sad heart and inspiration to encourage a weary soul. Pages of hope.
I knew I was sent there that day to do much more than “just stock the book racks,” but my job suddenly seemed important. My other job, as a writer, suddenly seemed essential, “That I may publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all thy wondrous works.” (Ps. 26:7, KJV).
****
Marcia Lee Laycock writes from central Alberta
Canada where she is a pastor's wife and mother of three adult daughters. She
was the winner of The Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel,
One Smooth Stone and also has two devotional books in print. Her work has been
endorsed by Sigmund Brouwer, Janette Oke, Phil Callaway and Mark Buchanan. Marcia's
second novel, A Tumbled Stone has just been released. Abundant Rain, an ebook
devotional for writers can be downloaded here.
Visit Marcia's website.
5 comments:
Marcia, perhaps I use the word "poignant" a little too often, but I have no qualms about its use here. The story of your encounter with the young patient is in itself poignant, and in view of your own health journey, I believe it is more so.
Thank you for sharing it so beautifully, and shining the light of hope we have in our Lord Jesus.
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Thanks, Peter. Your comments always lift my heart. :)
What a feeling to see God's hand at work in your life and to realize He had made a special appointment for you that day!
Pam Mytroen
Marcia, thank you for this tender glimpse of fragile hope. Like you, Rick and I have found it surfaces easily when life thins out, even for people who have no faith. Like you, we pray our words matter. Keep them coming, friend.
Marcia...you have tugged my heart once again. How beautiful an encounter.I am certain that the sheer fact that you took the time to listen to this lady and care about her sincerely was so much more than a 'small' prayer to her. I can't help thinking of that song - "Thank You for Giving to the Lord..."
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