Eva wasn’t feeling up to it, but Sadie managed to persuade Beulah to come along to the next Bible study.
          “And then there were five,” Jamie rejoiced when Beulah followed Sadie into the Southeast Sitting Room, both of their chairs powered by a brawny blonde aide. “One or two more and we’ll have to find ourselves a larger room.”
          Sadie and Beulah settled themselves at the trestle table across from Charles Chapelle and his sweet granddaughter Elise. Jamie’s joviality was contagious; they were soon chatting about everything under the sun, and before long they found themselves engrossed in Beulah’s story.
“My life didn’t really begin until I became a genuine Christian,” she told the group. “My parents were Christian people, so I’d been going to church my whole life. But it wasn’t until we attended a revival meeting in 1936 that I repented and trusted in Christ. I was seventeen when I gave my life to Him, and I’ve never looked back.”
          Sadie was fascinated. She didn’t recall that she had ever done anything so dramatic. She’d always heard people talking about “making a decision for Christ,” but she’d never heard a report quite like this one, delivered in such exquisite detail. Why, Beulah was even describing the boots she was wearing on that snowy night.
          “And of course that was the Great Depression,” Beulah added with gusto. “My parents were farmers, and we lived on one hundred and fifty acres near Wausau, but we were as poor as church mice. It wasn’t long after my conversion that we had to move. We had lost everything, and so we went into Wausau and rented a room in a boarding house and just prayed for the Lord to take care of us as He had promised to.”
          “I know He promised,” Sadie said, embarrassed to reveal her ignorance but desperate to know, “but where exactly did He make that promise?”
          “Maybe the best-known passage,” Charles said, opening his Bible and flipping quickly to the sixth chapter of Matthew, “is right here in the Sermon on the Mount. That’s where Jesus said, ‘Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?’”
          “Bravo, Charles,” Jamie said, beaming at the Chapelles. “In fact, let’s take a look at that subject in one of our next meetings, okay? It’s an important one. But please continue, Beulah.”
          And she did, chattering on and on as if her life depended upon it.
          Sadie felt suddenly sleepy—a frequent problem since her secret stroke—and she was having trouble focusing on the story line. But she faded back in when Beulah got to the part about her father passing up a job in the local lumberyard because he didn’t feel led to take it. Was that supposed to be a good thing?
          “The world would have accused him of being lazy,” Jamie said solemnly, “but I know just how he must have felt.”
          “Oh, yes,” Beulah said. “People were very critical of him. And honestly, I was worried myself. I heard my mother and father whispering at night, after we were in bed, about their savings being almost gone. It was hard not to hear; we were living in this single room, my parents and me and my two younger brothers.” She shook her head at the memory. “I don’t suppose people can get much poorer than we were.”
          But then, suddenly, the Lord opened a door for them, she said.
          “Old Lady Grayson invited us to come live with her and run her farm,” Beulah hooted. “It sounded awful to most people, and to be honest even to my mother and me, because Mrs. Grayson had a reputation for being cruel to her hired help. But my dad said, ‘This is it,’ and so we moved into her house. It was enormous, as big as a hotel in those days. I had my own room, and so did the boys, and she had both indoor plumbing and electricity. What luxuries for us farmers!”
          Elise expressed amazement that they’d ever lived without the amenities taken for granted today, and they spent some time chatting about the advent of plumbing and electricity in rural America.
          But, impressively, Beulah didn’t forget the original point of her story. “She put us all to work, even my brothers, and what do you know: two months later I was privileged to lead Old Lady Grayson to the Lord! I’ve never doubted that this was exactly why He sent us to her, and had my Daddy turn down the job at the lumberyard. And here’s the punch line: The following year she died and left everything to my parents. They worked that farm until the late 1960s, growing corn, mainly. They were approaching eighty by then, and He took care of them every passing day.”
          “What a faithful God,” Elise said, her eyes shining.
          She was really a very pretty girl, Sadie thought. In fact—she glanced surreptitiously at first Elise and then Jamie, and back again—yes, they’d make an attractive couple.
          “I believe that it was exactly what the Lord wanted us to do,” Beulah said, interrupting Sadie’s daydream, “and He rewarded my parents for being obedient.” 
          “It must have been so hard,” Elise said. “I just can’t imagine how frightening it must have been to move into that room, all of you, and to know that the money was running out.”
          Beulah nodded, her brow creased in thought. “But you know, if my father ever had a moment of worry, he never let on. And that gave us confidence.”
          “He set the tone for you all,” Jamie offered.
          “Exactly! We trusted him, and if he trusted the Lord, well then, that was that. As far as I know, I was the only one who ever had any fears over our situation.”
          She stroked the worn Bible sitting in her lap.
          “And I’ve never been really afraid since then. I’ve had disappointments and sorrows, of course, like anyone else. But no real fear. His eye is on the sparrow.”
          “And I know He watches me,” Sadie chirped happily, not in the least embarrassed by her less-than-perfect pitch. 

--The Song of Sadie Sparrow, pages 164-167

Are you feeling hopeless, lost, adrift in the world? Have you had enough?

Are you asking, “What must I do to be saved?”

This is the subject tackled by preacher and teacher Chris Carrillo during the most recent Care-age Christian Music Hour, and we’re proud to be sharing his message with you today. Please listen, learn, and share it with someone who really needs to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Over the last almost two decades of hanging out with the very elderly, I’ve found that there are two basic kinds of people at life’s end—those who’ve tended their spiritual needs and those who haven’t.
 
The former tend to be peaceful and content, no matter how physically handicapped they may be, or how sick, or how alone. They are an inspiration to us young ‘uns, and a joy to visit. And when they’ve gone on ahead, they are remembered often and missed greatly.
 
The latter, on the other hand—those who have no use for the spiritual—tend to be chronically sad, lonely, crabby, complaining, bored, and often clinging tearfully to their once-active pasts. It’s a recipe for despair. And I see a lot of it—more and more as the years go by, which is no doubt a reflection of our culture’s increasing embrace of the material world and growing neglect of the spiritual.
 
The ancient Greek philosophers posed three very important questions whose answers may predict which category you’re likely to fall into should you live to a ripe old age:

1. Where did you come from?
2. What are you doing here?
3. Where are you going?

 
If you’re Christian, you’ll be able to answer all three quickly, and with great certainty. And whether you’ve been a member of that blessed group for 50 hours or 50 years, your assurance should land you solidly in the first group of people on the cusp of eternity—those who’ve tended their spiritual needs, and are therefore peaceful and content.
 
If you are not Christian, you may be able to answer these questions with a little guesswork and a lot of wishful thinking. Or perhaps you’ll be stumped. Either way, you may be headed for the second group of old folk—those who are sad, lonely, crabby, complaining, bored, and clinging to the past.
 
That’s my prediction, at any rate, based on many years of observation.
 
But there’s good news even for the despairing, because it’s never too late to change your tune. If you’d like to know for sure where you came from, what you’re doing here, and where you’re going, simply ask the Lord to save you. There are no magic words; just pray a prayer something like this one:
 
Dear God,
I know that I am a sinner and that I cannot save myself. Instead, I repent of all my sin, trust in You as my Lord and Savior, and gratefully receive Your free gift of eternal life. Thank You, Lord Jesus, for dying on the cross in payment for my sin and for rising from the dead to defeat death once and for all. Please cleanse me of my iniquity and make me Yours forevermore. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.
 
When you pray something like this from your heart, the Lord will instantly forgive you and grant you everlasting life. Congratulations—you are irrevocably heaven-bound!
 
Then, set your heart on growing in your new faith. Begin studying the Bible, turning first to the New Testament gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. And if possible, find a mature Christian to disciple you. Not that these things are necessary for salvation; they are not. But they’ll go a long way towards assuring you of peace and contentment in this life, and transforming you into the sort of old person who’ll be greatly missed when you go on ahead. 

By Christian Worstell 

Do you have a loved one who’s battling Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia? If so, he or she may benefit greatly from the warm and loving fellowship available at worship services or at other church activities such as Bible studies or hymn sings. Events like these are a great way to help your loved one rediscover hope, find new meaning for his or her life and seek the Creator’s love and will.
 
Attendance at such events may also provide some relief from, or actually delay the worsening of, the symptoms of dementia.
 
Here are four ways that church-related events can be beneficial to your loved one.

1. Church is a place to socialize.

Whether it’s held in a traditional church or at the facility where your loved one is now living, a worship service is at least in part a social event. Catching up with old friends and meeting new ones in such a socially stimulating environment can play an important role in the life of someone suffering from dementia.
 
Socializing with others helps to prevent the feelings of isolation, loneliness and depression that can be an issue for all seniors, but especially the cognitively impaired. It can also promote improved brain function by helping your loved one to focus on thoughts and conversation, while strengthening his or her connections to time and place.
 
Just as important, research shows that socialization can slow down the progression of memory loss for people with Alzheimer’s.

2. Church offers a routine.

A regular, established routine can help calm and reassure someone with dementia. A church service that begins at the same time each week means getting out of bed, getting dressed, having something to eat and traveling to a familiar place down the hall or across town – all on a consistent schedule. Afterwards, you can offer a regular meal or some other post-service activity.
 
Routines can enhance both long-term memory and procedural memory--how we like to do things. Dementia generally attacks short-term memory first, leaving procedural and long-term memories in place. As a result, many people suffering from cognitive decline are able to remember their routines with surprising accuracy, and frequent attendance at church events can help support their memories.
 
Such routines also help alleviate the stress and anxiety of not knowing what to expect, a frequent problem for those suffering from dementia.

3. A church community can offer plenty of help.

A place of worship is also a place of community. Senior adults battling dementia don’t always get enough of the support they need—even when they’re living in a long-term-care facility.
 
What better place than a church full of loving and compassionate people to find people willing to assist with chores, transportation, or frequent fellowship? After all, Christians have been charged with visiting “orphans and widows in their trouble” (James 1:27), and many are looking for an opportunity or invitation to fulfill that responsibility.

4. Going to church can help you cope.

A dementia diagnosis can be as difficult for you as it is for your loved one. But sharing in faith-based activities can help you both manage your feelings while sharing your confidence in the joyful eternity awaiting all believers.
 
Not surprisingly, there’s scientific evidence to back that up. Numerous studies reveal that faith and spiritual practices have helped people find hope even in the face of cognitive loss and physical suffering.   
 
If you care about someone battling dementia, consider inviting him or her to a church service or other event in the near future—at your church, perhaps, or wherever that person lives. After all, joining a Christian community has a way of changing lives in more ways than one.  

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a woman I met at the nursing home perhaps a year before her very sudden and unexpected home-going back in 2016.
 
I’ll call her Ginny, just because it’s one of my favorite names and she was one of my favorite people. Still is, in fact. I have such fond memories of our visits. She’s one of those I’m most looking forward to seeing again in heaven.  And she’s someone I hope I’ll have sense enough to emulate should the Lord leave me here well into old age, in a position to make friends or scare them away.
 
The first thing I learned about Ginny was that she was blind. In her early 90s by the time I met her, she’d lost her sight to macular degeneration when she was in her 50s. Yet she was not at all bitter about it, and did not even seem to be sad about it. I’ve often wondered why. It’s possible that after almost half a lifetime of darkness, she was simply used to it. Or maybe her attitude toward death and heaven – her acceptance of the first and longing for the second – kept her focused on the glories that would eventually fill her eyes for all eternity.
 
Over the years, I’ve known a fair number of people with no interest in books. Ginny was not one of them; she had always been a passionate reader. And she didn’t let being blind stop her. She “read” books constantly on tape. She was a regular and avid customer of the Wisconsin Talking Books and Braille Library, a wonderful and apparently free service providing the blind with an easy-to-use tape player and a steady stream of recordings to delight the heart and mind.
 
I found it interesting that Ginny never asked for a specific genre of book, never even designated fiction or non-fiction as her preference. She was interested in absolutely everything, and her ever-changing library of tapes proved it. She entertained some of the most bizarre biographies I’ve ever heard of. Found fascinating stories about everything from animals to arctic exploration. Listened to instructional books on subjects as far-flung as planting a garden, quilting and managing your investments – things she had no practical use for at all. And she rarely met a novel she didn’t like.
 
Most important, Ginny loved to have a visitor read the Bible to her. Loved it, too, when that visitor had time to discuss some aspect of God and His love and His justice. She didn’t claim encyclopedic knowledge of scripture. In fact, she was more likely to raise questions than answer them. She was immensely curious about everything to do with the Lord and His gospel. Which meant that, if you shared her interest, a visit with her would always be stimulating, enlightening, and just plain lovely.  
​
I normally visited Ginny twice a week, on Monday and again on Friday. And she always welcomed me with open arms. Except for the last time I saw her. That fateful day, her stomach was upset, she said, and she’d just as soon put off our visit until she felt better. It was a Friday afternoon, and I remember being disappointed, and saying a quick prayer for her prompt recovery—a selfish prayer, no doubt, because I so thoroughly enjoyed our time together.
 
When I arrived at the nursing home the following Monday, I learned that Ginny had been hospitalized Friday night and had died on Sunday afternoon. Her daughters later told me that she had been in good spirits throughout this last phase of her life, joking with everyone from the hovering nurses and to the many family members who had gathered in response to an urgent summons from the hospital.
 
To this day, I’m sorry for Ginny’s family, for the nursing-home aides and nurses who loved her, and for myself. She was truly one in a million, five-star, solid gold and I'm far from alone in saying that I really miss her. It’s comforting, however, to think of her safely home in heaven, her vision restored and no doubt better than ever, taking in sights so glorious that we can’t even begin to imagine them in this fallen world.
 
I just wish she'd had a chance to promise me, before she left, "I'll see you there."

Picture this: You're an aging widow living in a house that has become way too big for you. Winter is relatively easy; all you have to do is dust and vacuum. But spring makes you weak in the knees, because that garden you built 50 years ago is begging for attention that you haven't been able to give it for years. Now that the daffodils are coming up, you can no longer ignore it: You go out and prune a few roses, rake up a bag or two of leaves and retreat to your recliner, overwhelmed and aching, wondering what in the world you were thinking when you replaced all that lawn with flower beds.

If that sounds like someone you know, and you've got some extra energy and strength to spare, maybe the coming spring will be your chance to lend a hand -- and in the process to develop a Christ-honoring relationship with her. 

If she's already a Christian, you'd be obeying the Lord's command to love one another (see John 13 and 15, for starters). And if she's not -- well, what better way to show the love of Christ than to help her complete a job that's probably breaking her heart?   

You don't have to be an experienced gardener. She will teach you all you need to know. In fact, she'll probably work at your side, finding new joy in spring clean-up now that she's no longer undertaking it alone. 

And what an opportunity to present the gospel! The spring garden offers ample opportunities to talk about the word of God. For instance:

• Pruning a vine or shrub? Refer to John 15. "I am the true vine," Jesus said, "and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit." Just think of the insights she could lend to this metaphor.
• If you’re helping to prepare and plant a seedbed, consider 1 Corinthians 15 and the metaphor that the apostle Paul used to address the question of our resurrected bodies. "What you sow is not made alive unless it dies," he wrote. "And what you sow, you do not sow that body that shall be, but mere grain..."  What a compelling lead-in to a discussion of heaven.
• When clean-up is complete, perhaps you’ll be moved to compare the results to the perfection of the Garden of Eden in Genesis 2 and 3.  For it was here that the Master Gardener defined mankind’s purpose, and here that mankind blew it by believing the lie and disobeying Him. And it will be in just such a place, according to at least some Christians, that the Lord will restore His perfect kingdom once again, for all eternity – another excellent segue into the subject of heaven, and how to ensure yourself of a place there.

 
That’s just the start. For more examples, simply google a phrase like “gardening metaphors in the Bible.” 

Who knows? If you’ve never before experienced the scent of moist garden soil in spring, you may find yourself developing a wonderful new hobby – one that your new friend might feed by giving you divisions of some of her favorite old, and overgrown, perennials. 

But most important, you’ll either be expressing your love for a fellow believer, or living out the Great Commission -- planting, watering and feeding seeds of faith that the Lord will make grow. 

The snow may still be blanketing our lawns, but it won't be long before we see the buds swelling on our trees. And it's never too soon to begin planning new ways to plant the seeds of the gospel in a neighbor's heart.