The things that matter

I love politics. Decorating. Intricacies of special ed. law, and why they exist. I enjoy reading new reauthorizations of educational law, and lots of other geeky stuff.

So for the past few days, I've been holed up in a hospital waiting room with my heart's desire of reading materials. I only today picked up a magazine to leaf through. It appears that maybe I have spent lots of mental energy and time on things that don't matter much after all.

I want to live a life worth living. My best, most consistent role model for that is my grandmother. As I think about the choices she's made, and the places she's invested her time and energy, they all come back to people. She can spend 15 minutes with a certified lunatic, give them a little job to do and a way to work gainfully, and suddenly you've got this nearly-normal soul plugging away. She sees needs, meets needs, and goes on. Sounds simple, right?

So I'm downstairs last night looking for her glasses, and she has an addressed envelope on her nightstand to a friend of hers in a nursing home in Indiana. I knew that every day she clipped out the seek and find puzzle to give this friend something to do. I went to seal the envelope and slip it in the mail, and I noticed that Neeny had written little notes at the top of each puzzle. "Hang in there." "You're such a talented quilter." "Make today a great one." "It's hump day, and I'm thinking of you."

Now Neeny is an incredibly accomplished woman, and no one could ever accuse her of sitting idly for any amount of time. Yet, she finds the time to minister weekly to this woman in such a simple way.

I got to thinking about Jesus, and how little attention he paid to government. Barely even a mention, really. What He did do was meet needs. Show up for weddings and funerals. Celebrate together, and mourn together with friends and strangers alike. Minister to those pitiful ones we all know.

I am reminded again how very far ahead of her time my Neeny is. And yet how simply she does it. I am rethinking my priorities. I am thankful for this (billionth) opportunity to learn from her again.