More
Close

More Than a Visitor

+ enlarge
 

You find out when you’re eighty-five years old you start forgetting things; things you don’t want to forget. Sometimes I struggle with the idea that I’m losing my mind because the things of the past are often more real that what just happened five minutes ago. I keep having this nightmare that my son, my baby, has gone to Heaven before I got to go. It’s so unreal; I know I’ll wake up and everything will be all right. Really everything is perfect because now he’s with his Daddy and they’re having a great time. They’re waiting for me to join them. Until then I still have to function here on earth. God’s not finished with me yet.

For many years we didn’t have a pastor or church home. My daughter would call local pastors and they would come and pray for me once but they never came back. That made my heart very sad. Really only God knew how sad it made me feel.

It was a hot summer day when the knock came at the door. We don’t get much company so it was a welcome sound. The neighbor brought his pastor over to pray for me. As I took his hand and looked into his kind eyes I knew Pastor Ronald Childress was going to be different than the other pastors that had visited. The obvious difference was in the fact that he was a man of a different color, a black man. But the most outstanding fact was that he had the love of God in his heart. As I sat in my wheelchair he took my hand and knelt down in front of me and offered up a prayer that I knew reached Heaven.

My health is an up and down thing; it’s very frustrating. I soon found out what I felt in my heart was right. Not only did Pastor Ron show up to pray for me when I was sick, he brought his beautiful little white wife, Pastor Kimberly, to pray for me. I only mention color because it makes me aware of how much our world has changed in the past eighty-five years. They make the perfect couple. They are one as man and wife as well as one in Christ. God is with them and will bless them.
As the months have passed they have become part of our hearts and a part of our family. It’s gotten now to where I’m not always sure where I live or if I’m at home, even when I am. Time for me is quickly passing but there are still moments that God allows me to hold on to. They touched my heart in a special way when I realized I didn’t have to be sick for them to come and visit. Those are time I cherish.

The gift of socks to keep my feet warm and the electric blankets that allow me to snuggle into their warmth at night makes me feel special. They have become a part of my heart. Their hugs and kisses and words of encouragement makes me know I am loved. They are now a part of my heart, just like my children, and I look forward to our times together. May they always know that they can come anytime they wish. Our home is their home. They’ve become more than pastors; they are family.

Comments

Loading comments...