James 1:27

O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, “Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away.” Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.
~ A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God (Camp Hill, PA: Wingspread 2007).

Though I know very little of A.W. Tozer and have read only quotes and short passages from him, these words which I read (in Crazy Love) over a week ago continue to resonate in my heart.

As I seek to know and see and love God more I can’t help but be reminded of the truths of scripture – truths that often echo in my mind in the voice of Bono (http://www.usatoday.com/news/washington/2006-02-02-bono-transcript_x.htm - transcript -or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUdrYDk8rVA for the video).
I am reminded that, as James 1:27 says, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world,” or as Bono says, “…But the one thing we can all agree, all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and poor… and God is with us if we are with them…”

I go to a nursing home once a week to help feed dinner to the folks in the dementia ward. I have volunteered in nursing homes before but this is a whole new experience; there are times when I am painfully aware that some of these precious people are in their last days and instances when it seems their last moments. As we talked about it at dinner tonight, I explained that there are times when I humbly beg God not to let them die in that moment, as I sit beside them, hold their hand, rub their back, feed them dinner. Other times I simply ask for the grace and mental stability to handle it if it does happen.

Someone then posed the question: wouldn’t I want Jesus to be there with them when they died? Paul did write, after all, Christ in us, the hope of glory. Incarnational living… we are with God when we are with the poor, the brokenhearted, the widow, and the orphan and Christ is in us. That’s a lot of Jesus. I need a lot of Jesus.

I often think about these things as I sit with the people at the nursing home but it seemed to hit even closer today. You see, after helping 2 women with their dinner (one whom I get to serve regularly) I went to get one of my friends. She’d gone to feed and be with the woman with whom she usually serves in her room as she couldn't come to dinner. Today was not a good day for her. She seems to be knocking on death's door. Though I know it will make my heart ache, there are times when I wonder why and how they fight and struggle to stay alive as their quality of life diminishes.

So I walked in and was informed that she wasn’t doing so well, nor was her roommate who wouldn’t eat anything. Traditionally I am “afraid” of the roommate. She has this mix between a glare and blank stare. There are times when I’ve felt like her eyes are fixed upon me and I wonder why. I can't escape it. Today those stares would be clouded over with tears.

I entered the room and walked over to her bad after alerting my friend of the time (we had a bus to catch) and greeting her patient. My friend pointed out pictures hanging in the room which brought up some questions but were also informative. On the wall above the roommate's bed there was a picture with her and 3 girlfriends. There was also a picture of someone that we assumed was her daughter and son-in-law along with a crayon picture with a note “Dear Omi, I hope you get better soon…” Some of her family now lives in the States. As we looked I touched her arm and then her face.

She closed her eyes as if she was just soaking it in. Research shows that babies’ need physical touch for development and survival but the reality is, I don’t think that need goes away. I stroked her face for a few minutes and than began to sing until I couldn’t. Sometimes tears have a way of preventing notes and words from coming out. I stood over her bed, over her, singing as I could, and crying. It started with “Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side” and quickly moved to “beauty for ashes, a garment of praise for my heaviness…” As I sang the latter, in particular, I claimed those words for her – that she would be dressed in robes of righteousness; that she would trade her dementia, despair, loneliness, and pain for the presence of God in its fullness. And in the mean time, we both got to experience the presence of God in part.

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Cor 13:12-13)