Lent...Week...Um.....

I told myself I needed to blog today. But I also needed to pay bills and do laundry and go buy some black pants (preferably at Goodwill) for the funeral R and I are going to across the state tomorrow, and work on the two remaining sermons. I did get the pants. And now it's bedtime. I have one load of laundry in the washer and one in the dryer and the bills are still languishing on my desk. We leave at 5:45 for the other side of the state, and I really do need to go to bed soon, so this is going to be a very quick little blog post, I fear. I am taking the lectionary readings for next Sunday and Wednesday with me. I will, I hope, read and reflect on them in the car. I have some thoughts about the whole "grain of wheat" business for a nursing home audience. I think they may know something about being broken and crushed and bearing crosses. Actually the whole nursing home pastoral care thing has me kind of tender right now. I had been asked to come visit a lady there. She was not "mine" as in "of my congregation," but she was having some mental health issues as well as spiritual ones and the chaplain thought I might be a good fit for her. I've been seeing her every week or two since January. She died last week. Tonight I learned that her husband, who, as of the last time I saw her, was still substitute teaching at the high school, had a heart attack and died the day of her funeral. I had met him a few times at the nursing home when I visited her. He was your typical high school coach and teacher combo....hale and hearty. She was fragile, frail and always afraid. I'd ask her how she was and that was her stock answer..."Afraid, Pastor." Of being sick, of being, alone, of dying. I don't know that I did her any good. I visited, I talked with her of God's love, I prayed with her. And one night I went and she was gone. "Discharged" the staff said. To the hospital and to hospice where she died, I found out later. I hope that sweet M is no longer afraid and that she is happy that her husband is there with her. His visits were the high point of her day.