I met an angel yesterday.
She appeared in the form of nursing home resident Connie Taylor.
After church Sunday afternoon, I went out to lunch with a few friends, during which I received a phone call from my friend Cassie inviting me to join her and a few others to go out to a local nursing home and sing Christmas carols. Our group consisted of Cassie, Megan, Rachel, Brittany and myself.
When we arrived at the nursing home, we were told that we could gather residents into the dining hall. We began knocking on doors and stopping in the hallways, informing people that if they’d like, we would love for them to join us in singing. After gathering a small crowd of around 15 or so, us girls introduced ourselves and invited music requests. We sang everything from “Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer” to “The First Noel.” One resident would count off for us before each song, and another would shake a tambourine. One lady requested “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause,” but we didn’t know all of the lyrics. We asked for her to help us with them, a request at which she first declined, before slowly starting to sing the song to us. I watched the eyes of some residents close (in sleep, though I hope none in boredom), while other eyes glistened over with memories, some happy, other perhaps less joyous.
At the end of our performance, we were applauded, asked a few questions, and thanked for our gift.
We had decided to return to a few other residents’ rooms that were unable to make it down, and we gave a special performance for them.
Two ladies sharing one room requested Silent Night, and as I sang each verse, I watched as one woman sang along with us.
Our final stop yesterday afternoon was to the very last room in the hall. There, sitting on the last bed by the window, was Connie Taylor. She welcomed us, and asked what organization we had come with. We replied that we were just a group of frineds who had participated in a Bible study together, at which her eyes lit up.
“I lead a Bible study here in our dining hall on Friday nights. We’re stuck on the first few verses of John now: “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the Word was God.” Isn’t that powerful? It’s so true though. And since we are God’s annointed, we are annointed with the Word. Our appointment is so important. I know some people say that it’s wrong to say that we’re God, but it’s true–we are God’s annointed, to some people we are the only Christ they will ever know…”
She continued on for a few more minutes, and was explaining this idea to us, before asking what we were going to sing to her, and we asked her what she’d like to hear. She replied, “Anything.” We sang “Away in a Manger” and “O Holy Night,” at which she seemed ready to burst at the seems, telling us that those songs were a couple of her favorites, and that we had sang them more beautifully than she had ever heard before. She said we must have been part of a chior, and that only people who’d been annointed by God and were given the job of bringing Him to others could have sung so pretty.
Connie asked if she could pray for us before we left, and so we all joined hands and stood around her bed. After the prayer, she gave us all a hug and a kiss, as if she were our grandmother and had watched us grow up. She told us that she had been in the nursing home for five years after breaking her leg. All of her family lives in Oregon.
“I hadn’t planned on being here too long, and Lord willing, I can get better and move out to be with my family. I’m just hoping for a miracle, if one will come. What am I saying, I know one will come, it’s just a matter of the Lord’s timing.”
She thanked us for our singing, and for coming to her room especially, even if it might not have been the most exciting thing to do when we could have left for our own homes. We were invited to come back anytime to visit, and to stop in on her Bible study sometime. I hope to eventually get that chance.
With this semester’s close, and between events and gathering and friends and work, it’s seemed that it’s taken longer for reflection on the season. Connie was the first real taste of Christmas that I’ve had.
Christmas parties and ice skating and friends are all wonderful things, but it’s that love, completely unexpected–love even if it’s coming from complete strangers–that remindes me of Christmas. To the general public, Christmas has become that idea of holiday parties and good fellowship or stressful shoping and spending even. It’s labeled the “season of giving,” but what exactly are we giving? Are we giving love?
Perhaps it’s not that hard to sit around a room with the ones that you care for and say “Let’s not forget the reason for the season. Let’s not forget that it’s baby Jesus’ birthday.” But what about a room full of strangers, or a room full of the ragged and torn and forgotten? It’s true, at Christmas we celebrate Jesus’ birth–but are we celebrating His LIFE? Aren’t we also supposed to celebrate the Jesus that was born in a stable, the one that spent his life with the “rejects” of his society, the Jesus whose message was to Love… To love your neighbor as yourself.
Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas for religious reasons, would you deny that LOVE–unrequitted, unbiased, free-given love–is one of the greatest gifts ever given?
Connie, even in her state at the nursing home, demonstrated that love to us. The last stanza of her favorite Christmas carol, “O Holy Night” demonstrate the beauty of love, and its place in the Christmas season:
Truly He taught us to love one another,
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
“For the slave is our brother”–Though in America today, slavery has been abolished, society has managed to enslave people in other ways: poverty, oppression, sickness, despair, and truth is burried and love forgotten by all… How beautiful would it be to be able to join together, slave and free, as brothers and sisters and sing songs in a unified, joyful chorus? We have put up divides between people, with disregard to the fact that we are all human beings who need love, we focus on nationalities, ethnicity, creed, sexual orientation, religious or denominational preference… The list goes on. I do not believe that perfect peace will be restored until Jesus returns. And upon reading that, some of you may feel like sparking debate, but that’s for another time and place, and besides my point.
My point is that even in the midst of remembering the reason for the season, we have forgotten it. We still hold tightly to our points of view, our biases, our prejudices and pride. We forget to let go of these things, even at Christmas time. (Though they should be things that are non-existent no matter the time of year).
Christmas is not just about celebration and festivities and whatever… It is the mark of the day when the greatest act of love came into this world. It is a celebration of what His life would mean to many, and the hope of salvation that God wanted to be made available to all.
I’m tired of political correctness:
Jesus-true love-is the reason for the season. HE is the reason we celebrate. HE is the gift we should be sharing with others. HE is the love that so many do not know.
Connie is right. To many people, we may be the only Christ someone may ever know. The way we live our lives, the way we love people-whether it be those who know us well or those who don’t know us at all-could very well be the only exposure that someone may ever have to Christ’s love. That fact alone is daunting enough knowing that I am such a flawed human being, and have not perfectly loved my neighbor.
But, with the hope that we may be like that star that shown above Bethlehem, let us try and live our lives so that they may point to Christ this holiday season. (Whether it’s singing Christmas carols in a nursing home, feeding the homeless or being with the ones you love, and loving them…)
Thank you, Connie. 
