Gently Steering the Conversation to God
Written by Ernie Perry
"I believe in Jesus yes. He was a good man trying to make things better. But a loving God, I can't believe in him. Why would he let so many bad things be happening? Why doesn't he do something?"
These are the words of a lady I visit regularly. A sprightly lady in her 90s, a zest for life and a joyful nature that is charming to be in the company of. Her failing eyesight, a degenerative disease that makes reading and general tasks very difficult, seems to be no more than an inconvenience for her. We sit and chat over a hot drink and our conversations cover much of the usual ground: family, marriage, life, death. And of course, with perhaps a subtle influence, we find ourselves talking about God.
She tells me of her unfortunate experience when her children were little, taking them to Sunday school. An insensitive moment, an unguarded tongue, a few unhelpful words, and the door closed. She didn't return to church or to Sunday school. Her children grew up unchurched and remain atheist, wondering why their mother ever took them there. Sadly, a story repeated too often.
We don't always see the long term influence of our words; words spoken in unguarded moments, or indeed the benefit of great words of love and encouragement. Life moves on and we often give little thought. But when I hear these stories, and see the long term effect of our words, I'm reminded to pray that God would be a guard over my lips. I pray that the words I speak would be good words, His words, nurturing and loving; words accompanied by a loving heart and a gentle touch. I pray that when that is too much for me to give, when life has taken too much out of me (or I have taken too much out of myself!), that I would speak less, and that His guard would be effective, until such time that He restores me and again opens my lips.
As we converse, I see there's a spark in her. She asks me if I'm a believer, I tell her yes, and that I know that God's love is real and can change a person's life. She is pleased for me and enjoys my sharing it. And even though a loving God is beyond her grasp, there is a light in her when we speak of Jesus; something attractive in Him that has stayed with her. We speak of the troubles of this world, we speak of all things being made new one day, when this Jesus returns. That's hard for her to grasp. If that's all that's needed to make things better, why are we waiting? I reflect. "A good question", I say, but one that I feel would move us into difficulty, for me and for her. "A mystery", I tell her, "for me and for most of us I think", and leave it at that.
We make a fresh cuppa and the conversation shifts. And I know that we will have this conversation again. We will start from the beginning, as we do each time we meet, such is her confusion and failing memory. But each time it's a joy to gently steer the conversation to God, to hear her speak of Jesus as this good man who tried to make things better. And I see in her eyes again that light, that expression that tells me that Jesus did make things better — for her, for us, for the world. Her affection for Him, even as simply a good man, has not gone unrewarded it seems to me. There are many good men (and women) in history worth remembering and reflecting on, but only Jesus gives that love that is real, creating in a person a certain joy and contentment — that spark, that light that comes from the speaking of His name.
She has that. Even in her confusion, her failing memory, her failing eyesight, her infirmities. She has that.
She will ask me again if I believe in God, and I will enjoy telling her yes, and hopefully she again will enjoy listening. And maybe this time I'll tell her a bit more. Maybe this time I'll have something helpful to say to encourage her. The time goes so quickly, we agree. I say farewell and leave with a regret that my next visit is not sooner. But I leave with joy in the sharing, and the pleasure of having been in the company of such a charming, inspiring and joyful lady. And I pray that if I should reach that grand age, I too would be a joy and inspiration to others.