I am full of joy over what happened yesterday. Since February of 2020, due to Covid restrictions, I have not been permitted to enter the facility where I have volunteered for the last six years. Well, yesterday was my first day back with those beautiful people in almost a year and a half. The facility is a short-term rehabilitation and also a long-term living facility for those who can no longer live on their own. My Granny spent time there many years ago and we visited her as often as possible, hoping to lift her spirits and give her encouragement throughout her recovery from a broken hip. Since then, I have always remembered how I felt as I witnessed the sadness that engulfed many of the residents who had lost the ability to fully care for themselves.
Years later, I still thought about them and began to pray as to whether or not I should try to see if I could go and sing to them. This praying and contemplating took about a year before I picked up the phone and called to talk to whoever was in charge of that sort of thing. The craziest thing happened when I told the coordinator my idea – she said, “Yes, you can come sing gospel music to them.” Well, I never told her what kind of music I would sing! She just knew. I didn’t know then that she was a sister in Christ and would become dear to me as we shared our desire to reach the souls in that place with the love of Jesus. I quickly knew with certainty that I had heard God lead me to this ministry.
I have been entirely overwhelmed at times of the clarity of God moving, ministering, and loving in our midst. More than once, I’ve had the thought and sensed that we were covered in the shelter of His wing as He had his way in a place that is prone to pain and despair – as if His covering mightily drew us into His presence. There have been times when, for just a second’s glimpse, I thought I could imagine what Heaven will be like.
As I was driving up to the parking lot yesterday, getting ready to unload my music equipment (something that had grown mundane through the years), I was hit with the glory of it all. That God would provide in this way – that I might be a part of His work in serving and loving the lost and hurting and broken, I found a gratitude beyond what any worldly thing could ever unearth.
I sang my heart out with a mask fixed over my mouth, not to be put off from my job that God had for me. I knew that it would be difficult to sing with a mask on, and it was. But somehow, it made it more beautiful a task to me. What are we able do for Jesus? Anything He asks. If I say yes to singing, He supplies the air I need to do it. Whatever He is leading us to do, may we trust His provision and His purpose. These are the eternal things that our eyes cannot see. We don’t know what He is accomplishing through our obedience. One thing for sure, when we obey, there is no doubt that it is His power in us and we bring nothing other than a desire to serve Him with our lives.
You know, I am looking forward to the day when our eyes can see in full, the goodness and glory of our great God. To know that we ran the race that was set before us in all of its stops and starts and trials and victories. Knowing that it was His grace alone that has saved us and that He has healed and delivered us along the way, setting us back on the right path again and again. In light of our inability to save ourselves, what an indescribable thought to contemplate those words from Matthew 25: Well done, good and faithful servant. What mercy!
May we live for Him, keeping before us the eternity that He has prepared for those who believe in Him. And may we remember the souls that are lost and be ever willing to go wherever God leads so that they might know and believe unto eternal life. May we, like the beautiful old song says – turn our eyes upon Jesus…and may the things of earth grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.