COME TO THE FEAST

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Patsy

Yesterday afternoon, after some nudging from my daughter, I made a phone call to Josh's mom. I had been reluctant to do this for several reasons. I didn't know her - had never met her - and I knew she would be busy getting ready for visitation coming up. But I made the call. I introduced myself and told her I was from Abilene and we had had Josh over to eat a few times. As soon as I said that, she got really excited. "Oh," she said, "you're the one who did that. Josh talked about you so much. He called me every time he was at your house and told me, 'Mom, I'm so full, they had so much food.'" She said she asked him, "Who are those people?" He told her, he didn't know, just some people who fed the basketball team. She told me how much that meant to him. I told her how much we thought of Josh, and how sorry we were that we couldn't be there for the visitation and funeral. I told her what Victoria had said about maybe coming down in a few weeks to visit with them. She was thrilled and said it would mean a lot to them. She was so glad to hear from someone in Abilene who knew her son and had cared about him, and thought he was special. She seemed reluctant to leave the phone, but people were coming in and there were things to do to get ready for the evening's visitation. She told me there were having the funeral outside - at the grave site, because Josh hated being inside. And thanked me again for calling.

Too many times in life, we hesitate to make a call or say a word, because we are afraid of intruding. I think I am learning we need to be MORE afraid of not letting people know we care. How many times do we hear someone cry out for help, and just let the moment pass? Or not even pay attention to what they have said? I remember the time one of my friends said, "I haven't been feeling very spiritual lately." I don't think anyone in our Bible class followed up with him to find out what that cry for help was about. I know I didn't. And now he's sitting in jail - waiting to know how many years he will spend in prison. Was the cry made before things had gone so wrong? I don't know. But I do know this - from now on, I am making it my mission to be aware when I hear someone crying out in pain. I'm sure I'll miss some. But I will not hold back for fear of being considered pushy or intrusive. I will open myself up to being there - to share the cup of sorrow. And if I ask someone how they are doing, I will listen for the answer. If someone is missing, I will call them to find out why. I am sure there will be times I miss opportunities. But my prayer will be that God will open my ears to hear the pleas of those I come in contact with.

"Rescue the perishing, Care for the dying, Snatch them in pity from sin and the grave; Weep o'er the erring one, Lift up the fallen, Tell them of Jesus, the Mighty to save.

Down in the human heart, Crushed by the tempter, Feeling lie buried that grace can restore; Touched by a loving hand, Wakened by kindness, Chords that were broken will vibrate once more.

Rescue the perishing, Duty demands it; Strength for thy labor the Lord will provide; Back to the narrow way Patiently win them; Tell the poor wand'rer a Savior has died.

Rescue the perishing, Care for the dying; Jesus is merciful. Jesus will save."

Dear God, open my eyes and ears to hear the cries of others. Make me more sensitive when someone opens their soul in my presence. Take from me the spirit of timidity or indifference. Make me more afraid of letting someone suffer alone than of intruding. Put me where I can do good. Bring me into the lives of the hurting and let me minister to them. Through your Son, I pray, Amen.