I stopped wiping the tears from my eyes. It was pointless as every time a new person grabbed the microphone, fresh tears replaced the ones I had just removed. The focus of the attention was on the couple sitting just in front of me, retirees who had given the last 44 years of their lives to gospel-advancing work in this part of the world: my parents.
The praise was gushing - kind praise upon kind praise - but it was obvious that underneath the simple words were layers of lived-out stories, full of heart and hard. I only knew a glimpse of them: children failing out of their schools, police interrogations, men chasing vans with machetes, medical flight emergencies, entire schools being evacuated, car accidents, sickness, mistreatment, war, and one airport bombing. The presence and prayers that my parents provided over the years had been invaluable to many in the room, and as I heard praise after praise, my heart was filled up.
And I had to wonder about that. Why was it that merely witnessing words intended for someone else could fill me up? A quick cursory google search implies that hearing others be praised tends to fill us with jealousy and hatred. Was the night different only because the focus was my Mom and Dad? That didn’t seem to be it because several people came up to me afterwards and commented on how special that time had just been for them. Was it meaningful because I too had been on the receiving end of some of that Custer love? The more I’ve reflected on that beautiful night, the more convinced I am that the answer lies deeper. I’ve come to believe that hearing someone else’s thanks is designed to give life to anyone listening. It’s a building-up, a truth-speaking, an acknowledgement that a life wasn’t lived in isolation and shouldn't be. To be a witness to someone else’s praise is to be reminded that kind, helpful choices can lead to another’s good. It’s grace.
Ephesians 4:29 says, "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear." That's what I experienced: the reality that unmerited good came to us because of what Jesus did on the cross. My parents lived it out for 44 years, and people's recognize of the good they saw out loud passed on that unmerited good to all who heard. If that doesn't fill me up, then what will?
1 comment:
Katrina, I had a similar experience that night. I thought that this might make me feel nervous, thinking about how much care they gave and how loved they were, now that we're stepping into a similar role. But the opposite was true. I was so encouraged and moved by the words that were spoken to them, and it reminded me of our many experiences of grace and kindness through their presence at our table in in our lives.
It gave me hope for the future, and also a resolve to spend more time with them, picking their brains. =)
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