It’s hard to believe that last Easter Todd and I went to the nursing home to pick up our friend and take him with us to church. It was the first time Stu had been outside of the nursing home for church in at least a year or more. Weeks before, when I asked him if he’d like to go with us, he was thrilled—but he was concerned that he didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. Having been in a nursing home for a while and having only athletic, lounge type clothing, he thought he might not fit in. We assured him that our church was welcoming and casual, and while he might see some people dressed up, he would also see plenty of folks who were in casual, everyday attire.
Todd and I were going to early service at our church because afterwards we were planning on driving to my parents’ house for Easter lunch. So we picked Stu up bright and early, around 7:30am. I was afraid he might not be ready, because nursing homes move at their own speed and schedule. But there he was. All ready to go in his athletic t-shirt and gym shorts. We wheeled him out to our van and carefully helped him transfer into the vehicle. It was not easy and took some maneuvering, but we got him in.
Once we arrived at church, he was welcomed warmly by the greeters and several others who stopped to introduce themselves. He spotted the coffee bar and asked if he could have a cup and take it inside the sanctuary. I assured him it was fine. He liked that coffee so much he drank 2 more cups while we were there! He kept saying it was so much better than the coffee at the nursing home. What a little thing to us. And a big thing to him.
Stu enjoyed the music and the sermon, and when it was time to leave, as we rolled him past the offering box on the wall, he insisted that we stop so he could put money in. Like the widow who gave her last mite, Stu wanted to give sacrificially to the Lord. Instinctively I objected, gently, telling him that he was a guest and didn’t have to contribute. But he insisted. He couldn’t reach the opening, so I took his cash and dropped it in. Most nursing home residents live off $60 a month. While many of us often spend money on the latest gadget or a new outfit we don’t really need, Stu’s money was used for a hair cut, new socks, or snacks from the Dollar Store. And yet he chose to give. I couldn’t really see how much he handed me, but I did notice that the folded bills had a twenty on top.
After we worked to get him back into our van, Stu asked if we could run through Hardee’s drive-thru for breakfast. He had spent most of his life as a truck driver, and he loved Hardee’s breakfast. We told him we’d be glad to take him, but when we got there, the line of cars was quite long and didn’t seem to be moving. After waiting a bit and realizing it was going to take a lot of time, Stu suggested we go elsewhere—mostly because he knew we had to be leaving town for lunch at my parents’. We ended up taking him to McDonald’s instead. Oh, how I wish that we would have just waited in that drive-thru! What would it have mattered if we’d been late to lunch with my family? He offered to buy us something from McDonald’s, but we told him we didn’t want to ruin our appetite for lunch. Again, looking back, I wish I’d let him buy us something, because I realize Stu just wanted to feel normal, to have the dignity of buying breakfast for a friend.
When I think about last Easter, my heart is grieved because Stu isn’t here this year. He left this world shortly after Thanksgiving. I had the joy of worshipping beside him last year. This year, Stu is worshipping at the feet of Jesus. He is able to do that because of Easter. If Jesus had died on Good Friday and not come out of the tomb three days later, then He was nothing more than a wise teacher or a good man. But Jesus Christ was and is the Son of God. When He rose from the grave, He defeated death—not just for Him, but for all who would believe in Him. Stu believed that Jesus paid for his sins on the cross, and he trusted him as his Lord and Savior. That’s how I know that this Easter, Stu is praising Jesus with a body that has been made whole, in a place where there is no pain, no suffering, no sadness, and life evermore. And someday, I’ll join him there.
This Easter, let me ask you: Do you know Jesus as your Savior? I chose not to change Stu’s name in this post because I believe he would want his story to point you to Jesus—more than he would care about privacy. Stu would want want me to tell you that the hope of Easter is for you, and me, and everyone who would believe in Christ as their Savior. Stu was just 61 when he passed. Don’t wait to give your life to Christ. You never know what day will be your last.