I feel compelled to warn you about something today.  If you plan on taking this relationship thing to a whole new level, there is an insidious side to it all.  You may think that you are going to be able to drop an occasional OA here or there, or notice someone and pray for them behind their back, but if you do, I feel that you should know that there is a good chance you might start to care about someone and if you continue, you will love them like your own family. 

At first, you will be like I was when I first started our ministry to the seniors.  We divorced ourselves to a certain extent and didn’t get in too deep–seemingly.  We told ourselves that we had to stay somewhat detached in order to survive this ministry.  Over time, they wore us down and we started to get to know them by name. 

There’s Fanny, who had been a soprano in her church most of her life, and she sang a beautiful rendition of How Great Thou Art one week.  There’s Eulah, who had been a pastor’s wife her whole life and knew the words to every song we sang even though she was unable to speak.  There’s Mary Jane, whose spunky countenance has made her one of our greatest champions.  She supports us almost as much as we supported the seniors.  In fact, last week, Mary Jane told me, “I have this feeling that even at 85 years old, God has more for me to do.”   There’s Shirley, who tells me never to forget them, and Dorothy, who always wears eye shadow, blush, and fingernail polish.  Then there was Vangie, who is a pure pentecostal and asked us to lay hands on her and pray for her on occasion.

Then, there are the ones that we have lost over the years.  Eveline used to sit on the front row for every service and smile the most peaceful smile I’ve ever seen and Helen passed away after a sudden decline, but she was the sweetest woman and always had something nice to say.  Virginia turned 100 years old last year, and would sit on the front row and say “Amen” or “praise God” intermittently during the message.

I never planned to get involved.  I had every intention of keeping my distance and just showering them with some random affection once a month, but I fell prey to love.  It started slowly and has built up over time.  A hand shake, a kiss on the cheek, tears and tenderness–it all adds up to the fact that I love these people.

Yesterday, Eulah captured my hand in hers and held on tightly for a long time.  She can’t speak because she had a stroke, and so her only form of communication is to show her love through touch.  I’ve never been able to talk to Eulah or ask her about her life before the convalescent home.  What I know about her, I learned the one time that I met her daughter.  Yesterday, Eulah stroked my hand and brought it up to her lips and kissed it gently and I knew right then and there that I was in big trouble.  I sat in my room alone in tears last night realizing that when Eulah goes, I will grieve the loss having entered the danger zone.  There’s no going back now.  I am fully committed.

Yes, there is danger involved in loving people, but it is imperative that we get better at it.  It is necessary that we open up our hearts and learn what it really means to love–love that goes beyond mere words.   We must learn the dangerous kind of love that reaches into our heart, stretches it, breaks it, and gives us to the strength to start it all over again.

“I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.“   -Mother Theresa