“As long as you are still breathing,
you are here for a reason. You have a purpose to influence others for Christ.
That does not come to an end until the day we die.”
At first I thought this one didn’t apply to me and
because I am not 65 it will be a long while before I understand “retiring”
from life. But so many times, very
recently I have thought, “I want to be a greeter at Wal-Mart.” I have also
thought, “I just want to be Presbyterian.” Now it may take more back peddling
than I have time to explain myself here, but my dear, sweet Presbyterian
friends, please don’t take offense. Come to me and I will explain myself. But
please consider it a compliment. To me it means you are wise and intellectual,
you accept all peoples and you love well. It means I just want to study the
Word, experience concise and organized messages under orderly, liturgical
services. Wear a dress and not get dirty. The Wal-Mart greeter has no stress,
no beggars, no needs, no floods or malaria or tuberculosis or death or snakes
and witchdoctors or demons or corrupt governments to fight against. Just carts
and smiley face stickers. So lately I have wanted to retire. I have wanted to
clothe myself in anonymity and hide for a nice long while and not have to face
the people in my night dreams, or any obligations or any responsibility. And
while becoming Presbyterian sounds like a great idea, a Wal-Mart greeter is
just absurd. It is just my fear of the unknown and my inability to realize I do
nothing without Him anyway. I know that there are wild adventures before me and
I remain clueless as to what they look like and that is frightening. Sometimes
I become way too self-absorbed and I think that this is all about me and it’s
not. He will provide every ounce of bravery, the entire strategy, more than
enough energy and every dollar I need when I need it.
When I read the author of “20 Things” brief
commentary on Retirement and about not giving up until we die, I couldn’t help
but think about Granny Davis. She was on her deathbed, literally. We had been
called over to my aunt’s house to say goodbye to her. We sat quietly while she lie in bed, eyes closed. We listened to her slow, weak breaths. My aunt had put on soft Gospel music to
serenade her. Her breath filled the silence between the songs. Then “Company” came. My grandmother LOVED company. She would make
what she called, “pop calls” on the weekends where she and my grandfather would
“pop in" to see people in the area. She LOVED it when people “popped in” to see
her. If you pop in to see me you may not get so warm a welcome. But she loved
to visit. To sit and talk for hours and pull out cakes and pies and have you
stay for supper. She kept pen pals from college days and cherished
relationships. So when complete strangers to me walked in the door, she opened
her eyes and completely perked up. They were somehow connected to her church
and she had not seen them in a coon’s age but you woulda thought the Queen
herself had walked into the room. She welcomed them in and all but said, “Everyone
is here to watch me die, come on in, pull up a chair and join the party." My
sister and I sat there with our mouths wide open. I think the couple knew that
Madge Lee was very sick and this was the reason for their pop call, but they could not know that hours later she would take
her last breath. So she lived it out as Christ commanded, always serving,
always welcoming, always loving as Christ loves the Church. Way to go, Granny.
Taken at Cousin Miriam's wedding, Granny is on the far right in the pink polyester A-line and gloves. While I didn't get her gift of hospitality, I did get her elbow dimples. |