I’m no hero.
I’m not exceptional.
But I’d like to think that I love others.
Most of the time anyway.
Well, that’s what I thought before Katherine.
In our interesting study of 1 John, Pastor Greg has suggested that the apostle John is writing to help his readers reflect honestly on their faith and answer the questions, Are we true believers? Is our faith genuine? John then suggests to them (and us!) that they can test themselves and KNOW their true identity, their eternal destiny, and their right relationship with the Father by simply looking at their actions. If they love one another, that is evidence of God’s Presence and work in their lives—and ours. Pastor John recognized and emphasized that love comes from God, and he encouraged true believers not to selfishly keep that love to themselves but to spread that genuine love around. I try to do that.
So Greg has asked some of us to tell stories of growing in the love of God by being obedient to His call and learning how to love others, particularly when loving someone is not easy or comfortable. That kind of love is evidence of His loving Presence at work in us, affirming our standing as His true children and His promised commitment to progressively transform us into the likeness of His precious Son. As He lives in us, works in us, His amazing, unconditional love (not my puny, limited, human, just-gut-it-out kind) spills over to others and they are drawn to Him, blessed by Him, and cared for by Him. Awesome plan!!
That’s the story I shared a few Sundays ago. That’s how God helped me truly love my Mama on her long, sad descent into Alzheimer’s disease. Knowing I was His and He would never leave me, assured He would give me everything I needed to love her well—including His love—certain that His mercies were new every morning, I could press on, loving and caring for a fading shadow who could give me nothing in return, someone who didn’t know me or even like me anymore.
But she was still my Mama.
I think a better test, a more telling assessment of my faith would be, can I sincerely love a difficult person outside my family circle, someone I may not even know? I thought the answer was yes. At least I hoped so.
Then Katherine showed up.
I was the new kid on the block at church in Clayton. At my first deaconess meeting, as the “veterans” divided the list of senior saints in the congregation for visitation and care, I was rather quickly nominated to “look after” Katherine. I picked up on a few smothered snickers and some knowing eye rolls around the room, but I pretended not to notice. I was pretty new to the church and didn’t want to make a bad impression. I figured I would get whatever they were hiding from me soon enough.
Boy, did I!
That Sunday, I met Katherine. She was the odd-looking old “man” I had noticed across the sanctuary each Sunday morning. Yep, you read that right. I thought Katherine was a man. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one.
With close-cropped, snow white hair, coke-bottle, black-rimmed glasses, a plaid flannel shirt over a masculine, white undershirt, tan corduroys, and boot-like, curative footwear, Katherine was the stereo-typical picture of an elderly gentleman.
But only until you were close enough to see her eyes—big, bright, blue, beautiful, sparkling with fun and laughter—even through the very thick lenses of her corrective eyewear. And they were very feminine.
At first, I was a bit hurt and even slightly angry that my very new “friends” at my very new church had “stuck” me with this weird person. I felt like they were playing a not-too-funny joke on me. Not very welcoming, I had muttered to myself. But then my iron-will stirred within me. My strong sense of duty and over-developed commitment to responsibility took over. I decided I could do anything for a while. I would conjure up the courage and strength to do my job and do it well. I would show them. I would befriend Katherine. What a fine deaconess with such pure motives I was!!
I was embarrassed to be seen with Katherine. She was, well, strange. People looked at us wherever we went. She was often loud and inappropriate. She couldn’t see or hear well. She had no idea how to handle her money, and I often had to pay for things she bought. She was rude to people and made fun of them, loud enough for them to hear. She had questionable table manners. She was hooked on spicy romance novels she borrowed each week from the library and hid from me when I tried to redirect her to better reading material. She got her feelings hurt very easily. She called me ten times a day with no regard to what time it was. She demanded I drive her everywhere several times a week. She threatened people with her trusty cane. She constantly made up medical emergencies to get my attention. She was extremely jealous of my other friends and even my family. In the ladies’ rooms, women would stare at her or yell at her, informing her that she was in the wrong lavatory. I was always glad she was nearly deaf on those uncomfortable occasions. She was one-of-a-kind. Difficult. Brassy. Ornery. Demanding. Quirky. Messy.
And I loved her.
I know it was from God. I did not have that kind of love in me. She sucked the life out of me and I let her. The more love she required, the more love my Father shed abroad in my heart for her. The more of my life she needed, my Father graciously provided me with strength, wisdom, time, energy, and kindness. You see, God loved Katherine too. He planned for us to connect so I could be His hands, His heart, and His feet in her life and care for her the way He had promised her He would. And as I did, He graciously was working to change my prejudices, to refine me, to teach me about sacrificial love, to remind me to trust Him completely to supply everything I need to carry out His plans and purposes for me. He was affirming that I, too, was His. So was Katherine.
I learned her very sad story. She was both physically handicapped and mentally impaired. Aside from a nephew living out west, she was basically all alone in this pretty unforgiving, judgmental world. Soon she was spending holidays with us. She became part of our family.
I even got to be part of her Baptism, a beautiful experience for me. And funny too. In her fear, she began to fight the pastor as he tried to dunk her. I had to reach in and push her head under the water! Quite the solemn event.
She was probably the most loyal, trusting, unconditionally-loving friend I have ever had.
I miss her.
Thankfully, I know she’s with Jesus. At her funeral, another of my dear elderly friends whispered, “Oh, Father, You have your hands full now!!” Oh, how very true.
There are a lot of Katherines out there. Lots. Won’t you find one to love? Could that be part of the Father’s purpose for you? I am so glad it was His plan for me. How much I would have missed!
If this unexceptional, non-hero who certainly has overrated her own abilities can do it, anybody can….anybody who is a true believer, whose faith is genuine, who has the very love of God spilling over in them. Loving others, maybe especially those who take us far out of our comfort zones, affirms God’s Presence and His work in us. I am so thankful.
The Apostle John and Pastor Greg will be too.
—Eileen Hill
