“Justice can restore things; love can restore hearts.”

Blessed are they who understand

My faltering step and palsied hand.

Blessed are they who know that my ears today

Must strain to catch the things they say.

 

Blessed are they who seem to know

That my eyes are dim and my wits are slow.

Blessed are they who looked away

When coffee spilled at table today.

 

Blessed are they with a cheery smile

Who stopped to chat for a little while.

Blessed are they who never say,

“You’ve told that story twice today.”

 

Blessed are they who know the ways

To bring back memories of yesterdays.

Blessed are they who make it known

That I’m loved, respected, and not alone.

 

Blessed are they who know I’m at a loss

To find the strength to carry the Cross.

Blessed are they who ease the days

On my journey home in loving ways.

 

Today Abbi dragged me along to Serve the World with her church. It was incredible, to say the least.

It wasn’t glamorous, or entertaining, or fun. In fact it was almost the opposite; we had to scrub and clean, and seeing how the grandpa’s house was so dusty, and how he lived alone…it was painful to witness it. Initially, I thought, “oh okay cool. CIP. Going to go help some people,” but I didn’t really think or reflect about it until after talking with him and getting to know him.

I can’t even fathom how hard his life must be, and I’m amazed at how strong a person he is. His children don’t give him much to help with expenses, he lives alone in that small house, he has to live on less than $3 a day; and yet he wakes up every morning, and goes about his life, with no purpose but to survive.

He liked talking to us; telling me about what he used to do and all. You could tell he didn’t get the chance to do that too often, and what a shame, too. I want to go back and let him tell me more, I want him to feel like his life mattered, and that he’s not just another burden or even just an old person. I can’t imagine feeling like that.

After we prayed for him before we left, he teared. He didn’t want us to see it though, so he wiped his tears away. We went over and hugged him, and then we left.

I want to eat with him, cook for him, get to know him even more.

I want him to know that people love him; I want him to know how much he impacted me.

I want him to know that Jesus loves him.

 

God bless our lovely old man.

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