Ageless Love

I remember it vividly: I saw them just as I was walking through the doors into the lockdown unit at the nursing home I worked at.  (This is the unit where they keep those residents who might try to wander off.)  They were sitting in the dining area.  One of them was a frail whisp of a woman: grey and white hair intermingled, flat against her sweet, wrinkly face.  She wore a bright red dress with white dots.  This lady was a regular; I had seen her often sitting in that same chair at the nursing home, staring blankly at the opposite wall, occasionally calling out some unintelligible words to whoever was nearby to listen.  That day was different, though.  On that day, sitting to her right was a man.  I could not see his face.  He was in a sport jacket, and white hair rimmed his balding head. He sat ever-so-close to the woman, and he had his arm placed gingerly around her, pulling her close to him.

I stood, unbeknownst to them as I invaded their corner of the world, while fixed to my one square tile out in the hallway.  Something about the way he sat, the way he held her, just made my insides fall to pieces.  Yet as I watched, the man pulled his dear one close yet again, and gently placed a kiss on her precious, aging, dying face.  As my heart sank deeper in my chest, I closed my eyes and turned to leave them to themselves.  They never knew what a beautiful moment they had left etched in my mind, yet I will never forget.

As I walked that hall I found myself wondering: what is it that causes a man, still with all his physical and mental capabilities, to return day after day, in devotion and tenderness, to this woman who may not even know who he is?  In that moment, I could hear God whispering to my soul: "Child, is that not what I have done for you?"  He is always so good to remind me.  When I chose not to know Him, when I wanted nothing to do with Him, when I asked Him to leave me be and let me do what I wanted, still He stayed, holding me close, longing for the day when I would turn to Him, with recognition lighting my eyes, and say, "My love, My King!"

As I finish Ephesians, I am praying that someday it may be said of me that I loved "our Lord Jesus Christ with an incorruptible love." (Eph 6:24, NASB)  A love that doesn't die, it doesn't end, it cannot be corrupted, no matter what the cost.  When I look at my life, and how He waited, and how He forgave, and how He continues to forgive me and love me... incorruptible love is the best I can give in return.  For that, I cannot wait to hear him say, "Well done."