Eight glorious humans were commissioned this week. The program called Stephen Ministry has been part of our community for a long time. It involves a six-month training in good listening and compassion. These particular people will be a blessing to anyone who asks for their time. The format is simple enough. For an hour a week, care receivers will exhale into the non-judgmental support of someone who has set their own life on hold long enough to be present. 

 

I have been a caregiver. Sometimes those relationships ended when the person felt like they had regained equilibrium. Other times, the person graduated to the spiritual world. The part that does not end is my wonderment. 

 

One woman, who felt ordinary enough, felt unsteady as age robbed her of her memory, and abilities. Yet she was so dear. I cannot fathom a way that I could have construed a way to wiggle into her routine without this program. Maybe these kinds of openings were more common fifty years ago. But now we lean into agreements like Stephen Ministry for stepping across the threshold. 

 

The catch is, you need to be willing to say those scary words.

 

"I need help."

 

Not a character flaw, and yet social mores have convinced us that they are. There is no need for this with children. They so easily ask. 

 

 ^"Then Jesus called a little child to Him, set him in the midst of them, and said, “Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 18