Lately these words have been speaking to me, filling me with a great desire to truly know their meaning. And in my path, people have been placed to show me just how powerful these words that have been pressed into my heart can be.
This weekend I travelled to Red Deer Alberta to visit my uncle who is in palliative care at the hospital. My sister, aunt, cousin and I hold his hands, comb his hair, rub his feet and play soothing music to comfort him. We share memories with each other and laugh about the ways we were. I watch his face for a smile. We fill the room with LOVE for this man who lies in bed a different man than months before when he stood and spoke in front of a reunion of family members. A reunion he insisted on organizing even when no-one wanted to step up. Something in him knew the timing was perfect. We reminisce in the quiet of the hospital room, the snow banks lining the streets below. One by one, family members sweep through the room with their offerings of help and encouragement. The love in that room, raw, without reserve. Beautiful. Pure.
My sister and I are filled with the desire to visit my other Uncle. The one who has been an addict most of his life. The one who went to prison at 16. The one who would be going to prison again. The one I am ashamed to say I wrote off as “hopeless.” Now we run to him with opened arms. I see him not as a drug addict but as my uncle. I see his sin no different from my own. I see an urgency to love him where he is at and to whisper in his ear “I will be praying for you.” I am convicted of my judgement of him and the barrier between us is stripped away leaving a deep desire in me to pour into his brokenness.
The night after I return home I am at a bible study sitting across from a beautiful woman I am meeting for the first time. Her blond hair shiny, eyes sparkling, her skin smooth and glowing. She is a mother. A wife. And she is full of the goodness of the Lord. I see that in her face even before she speaks. She opens her mouth to share of her past. An 80 pound toothless addict walking into the doors of prison. An addict. Prison. THIS beautiful vibrant woman. The words roll and shatter into pieces in my mind. And suddenly as I am looking at her I realize that I am looking at HOPE in the living flesh and my heart cries out for my uncle’s salvation. In the morning I stand in the christian book store, tears streaming down my face as I hand the sales clerk a bible and ask her to inscribe it with my uncle’s name. The name of the man I know there is HOPE for.
When my uncle first went to prison, I was four years old. My mother encouraged my sister and I to send him a note and so we sprung into action. My sister who was 8 wrote him a letter and I drew him a picture. We loved our uncle simply and purely. My own children are now 4 and 8 years old and I am thinking of the irony of this as I get ready to mail my gift to him. I am sending him a drawing again, only this time, it is a picture of FAITH, HOPE and LOVE wrapped in the WORD of God. I have FAITH that God has the power to smooth his skin, fill his hollow body and breath new life into his soul. I know that the God who restored the beautiful woman in front of me, healed her with his grace and loved her with his mercy can do the same for my uncle, and standing here now, because of the people God has placed in my path, I get it. Maybe for the first time, I really get it.
May the gifts of Faith, Hope and Love live in your heart for all to see.
