September 24

I was at a meeting with the Prayer Shawl Ministry ladies this morning when an older gentleman who lives in the community wandered inside. He apologized for interrupting and shared that he was looking for a cool place to sit with his wife during the hotter part of the day since their air conditioner wasn't working. He lingered by the table where we were all sitting and casually mentioned that his wife is undergoing radiation for cancer. And then he started talking about his time as a medic during the Vietnam War. 

The four of us just stitched our respective projects and listened as he rehashed what were clearly difficult memories. When he got to what was a particularly painful part of his tale --when he remembered how people called him and the other soldiers names and spat on them when they returned from the war-- I looked him in the eye and said I was so sorry that he'd had that experience. And that that kind of treatment was wrong. He nodded, and all of these years later, I could tell that he still carried hurt in his heart. And I hoped that my words provided just the smallest bit of salve for those wounds. I asked his name and his wife's name and if it would be okay if we prayed for her, and he adjusted his cap and gave a half-smile and said he thought that would be nice. And then he left.

I looked over at our leader, Karen, and noticed she had tears in her eyes. She patted the devotional entry she'd chosen for the day, and it was about being present for other people wherever you are -- and wherever they are. So today I am grateful that God brought Bruce to us in order to let us live out that lesson in truly tangible form. We are called to make one another feel seen and heard, and I am thankful to have had the blessing of being able to do that for him.