She sits on the long porch of the nursing home, her small, thin body buried under heavy woolen garments. Her wrinkled face is expressionless in the light of the warm spring sun.
Her chair faced the small, neat lawn and the busy street beyond, but her eyes gave no indication that she was aware of the life-moving traffic which impersonally passed her by. She was alone.
Another patient – a white-haired man with a strong youthful body, but with the same lifeless eyes – sat not far away. But still, she was alone.
Occasionally an attendant in a white, heavily-starched uniform passed by, stopping briefly to tuck the shawl more tightly around her drooping shoulders. And yet, she was alone.
She was alone because loneliness is not dependent upon the absence of others. Loneliness often thrives in the most active of crowds. And that is the very worst kind of isolation, because it is born of that debilitating feeling of absolute worthlessness.
This woman who sits daily for long hours on the nursing home porch is only one of the many thousands who stare at the world, unseeing. It is not because they are physically blind or helpless, but because, to the younger world, they have apparently outlived their usefulness.
A good many, perhaps most, of the patients in convalescent homes are there because their physical condition requires special care which they could not receive at home. Others are there because they choose to be. It is because they have no home, and seek to live out their last days with others of similar circumstances.
But there are many, far too many, who are there simply because they have become burdens to their children and grandchildren. They are a stranger to their own, a responsibility to those who shun responsibility and an embarrassment to the emphasis of youth.
They move more slowly, they forget more easily, their fingers grasp less securely, and their eyes see less clearly.
And so she waits. She sits on the nursing home porch waiting for the relative or friend who comes so seldom and visits so briefly. And while she waits, she is alone.
Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” And from that hour that disciple took her into his own home. John 19:25
What senior adult do YOU know, especially if they live in a nursing home or assisted living, that YOU can you call, today, tomorrow and this coming week to help cheer them up? YOUR caring voice is the caring voice of Jesus.
JESUS DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR PAST. HE SIMPLY GIVES YOU HIS HAND AND CHERISHES THE DAY YOU DECIDE TO FIND HIM!
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