I heard a number of excellent comments following our October Christian Music Hour at Care-age of Brookfield – none more enthusiastic than the review that my dear friend C. gave the message delivered by our own Chris Carrillo, fearless proclaimer of the word of God.
 
“Chris was on fire today,” C. raved. “I loved it. I was hanging on his every word!”
 
With good reason: In a message entitled “It is written,” Chris showed us how Jesus used Scripture to battle Satan; how the world twists the word of God to attack us for trusting in and obeying Him; and how the never-changing Jesus is both God incarnate, and the only way to heaven.
 
I hope you’ll take a few minutes to listen to this powerful message, and to share it with others. 

If you’re reading this via email, please click on the title above to be taken to the audio file. And if you’d like to hear more from this wonderful preacher, be sure to check out our Messages from Chris Carrillo page. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we Christians do not “sorrow as [do] others who have no hope.” And of course, when he penned these words in what would become 1 Thessalonians 4:13, the apostle Paul was speaking of biblical hope, which is to say not “wishful thinking” but “confident expectation.” In fact, we can rejoice in even the most unhappy circumstances, because we know that this life is the blink of an eye and that we’ll be spending all eternity in heavenly bliss.
 
That’s precisely what 86-year-old heroine Sadie came to understand in the novel The Song of Sadie Sparrow. Sure, her husband Ed had died years earlier, and she was hardly a priority for her daughter Dana, and she would be spending what was left of this life in a nursing home. But it was an awfully nice nursing home. A fun Activities Assistant named Meg was about to interview her for a mini-biography. And whenever she thought to turn her eyes upon Jesus, she could scarcely contain her joy.
 
So the Beatles were wrong. Love is nice. But all we really need is hope, as this excerpt from Sadie’s story demonstrates.
​
 
Meg’s questions were definitely intriguing.
         
That night after dinner—even though tablemate Gladys managed to find fault with the carrots and onions, it had been a delicious meal of impossibly tender pot roast and cornbread muffins—Sadie wheeled herself to the built-in desk in her room, flipped on the lamp, and pulled her best pen and a few sheets of stationery out of the drawer. No notes were needed for the “who, what, where and when” queries of “Part One, The Basics”; but “Part Two, Beyond the Basics” included a number of questions deserving some thought, and Sadie didn’t want to attempt to answer them off-the-cuff. Someone—okay, her daughter Dana Sparrow Maxwell, to be precise—might one day read Meg’s report on Sadie’s life, and it might be Sadie’s last opportunity to impact a life that had gone tearing down the wrong path, the path to what Sadie called “dead-end careerdom.”
         
The first of these questions was pretty broad. “Why do you live here now?”
         
Sadie started jotting down the answers in her arthritic hand.

1. Because I have heart failure and need help. Can’t even safely transfer into bed or onto the toilet on my own and that means the retirement home won’t have me anymore.

2. Because living with my daughter was not an option. Her plate is plenty full without adding a helpless old mother to her duties.  

She sat back and thought for a moment. Does that sound pathetic? Dana did not suffer whiners gladly. Imagining the eye rolling these thoughts would provoke, Sadie crossed out her second point and substituted a more positive answer:

2 . Because I wanted to live with people my own age, with the same values and experiences and hope for the future.  

She liked that. It was true, Dana would like it, and it might lead to an interesting conversation with Meg.

3. Because it’s a beautiful facility with a dedicated staff and my daughter made sure the bill will be paid to make up for otherwise ignoring me.
 
Definitely whiney.
 
Sadie put a period after “staff” and crossed out the rest, sighing. It was pathetic that she was framing her answers in order to avoid irritating her so-often-irritable daughter—especially since said daughter would most likely not see her answers until she was cleaning out this room after the funeral (an event which Dana would probably greet with both relief and more irritation, since it would no doubt interfere with some important business meeting).
         
Still, Sadie’s goal here was to plant seeds with eternal impact, and that meant she’d have to set aside all her personal, earthly complaints. She wanted Dana to put down the biography of Sadie Sparrow thinking, “What a woman! I want to be just like her, and spend all eternity with her! How can I be sure of it?”
         
Sadie laughed. Okay, then, she’d settle for a “Gee, she wasn’t nearly as stupid as I thought. Maybe there’s something to this eternity business after all . . .”
         
That reminded her of a favorite song, and she started singing it in her wobbly old voice: “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me.”
         
She looked over the rest of Meg’s questions and decided to call it a night. She was tired, and she still had some time to frame her answers before their meeting on Friday. She tidied up the desk and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift heavenward on the wings of the old hymn.
         
“Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling, calling ‘O sinner, come home.’”
         
The best rendition of “Softly and Tenderly” she’d ever heard was Tennessee Ernie Ford’s. He had gone on ahead long ago, she knew, not too long after Ed.
         
“Oh, for the wonderful love He has promised, promised for you, and for me.”
         
She wondered if they had met in heaven, maybe had even sung some hymns together. Ed had always been a big fan of Tennessee Ernie’s deep-as-the-ocean bass.
         
“Though we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon—pardon for you and for me.”
         
Thinking of Ed and Tennessee together was surprisingly comforting. And one day, she would join them.
         
Which reminded her of another old favorite of Ed’s.
         
“Just over in the glory land,” she sang, scrunching up her face just like a Spirit-led gospel singer,
 
“I’ll join the happy angel band. Just over in the glory land!”
         
She was smiling now, almost giddy at the idea of heaven and glory and seeing Ed again.
         
But oh, in the meantime, it was good to be alive! 

​Are you a fan of today’s animated movies? If so, you’re going to love the most recent Bible message from Chris Carrillo, Preacher Extraordinaire for our monthly Christian Music Hour at Care-age of Brookfield. The reason? He takes as his jumping-off point the smash hit “Despicable Me,” using it to illuminate key passages from Mark 12 and Matthew 8 and 9. But even if you’re not a fan of “Despicable Me” (or if your taste, like mine, runs more towards “Bambi” and “Lady and the Tramp”), I think you’ll love the parallels and conclusions that Chris draws from this popular 2010 cartoon.
 
No spoilers here; you’ll have to listen yourself:

If you're reading this via email, click on the headline above to be taken to the original post, complete with audio. And if you'd like to hear more from Chris, please visit our Messages from Chris Carrillo page.

Located about 35 miles due east of St. Louis, Aviston, Illinois, is known as “a small town with a big heart.” And I guess that’s exactly right, if the folks at Aviston Countrywide Manor are any gauge.
 
In an effort to enhance its staff’s compassion for the people in their care, this Clinton County nursing home took a very unusual step some years ago: It held a contest, dubbed the Through the Looking Glass project, to see which staff member could last the longest living as a resident of the facility.
 
The first year's winner managed to make it for eight days, taking home a grand prize of $500–apparently not all that much, considering that only four employees accepted the challenge the first year, and only five the next. I was unable to find any details about subsequent years. 
 
But I think this idea is absolutely brilliant. And the home's administrator seems to feel it has legs; she has published a book entiteld What Living as a Resident Can Teach Long-Term Care Staff: The Power of Empathy To Transform Care.

I hope this idea catches on. Just think what would happen to the quality of care–and the level of compassion–that nursing-home residents would experience if their caregivers really understood, from personal experience, exactly what they were going through each and every day.

In Chapter Fifty-Two of The Song of Sadie Sparrow, we rejoice to see that the Lord has begun healing the old lady's heart; her oh-so-busy daughter no longer has the power to break her heart:

As it turned out, Sadie didn’t have to call her daughter again. Instead, Dana surprised her with a visit to the dining room at 7:50 in the morning, just as Sadie was sprinkling brown sugar over her morning oatmeal.
         
“I don’t have much time,” she said breathlessly, slipping into a vacant chair and bending towards Sadie to deliver an air kiss, complete with a loud “Mwah!”
         
“What a nice surprise, Dana.” Sadie noted that her daughter was dressed to the nines in a beautiful dark brown suit and a pale pink blouse, and her tawny hair was pulled back into a slightly messy bun that had probably taken a half hour to arrange so artfully. “Big meeting?”
         
“Yes, with our most important client.” Dana glanced at her watch. “But I wanted to stop in to take care of that paperwork, so you can go to that funeral.”
         
“It was last Saturday,” Sadie said in an utterly neutral tone of voice.
         
“Oh. Well, then, you’ll be ready for the next one.” Dana flashed Sadie her most dazzling smile. “So, how have you been? Good?”
         
Yes, as a matter of fact.” Sadie took a sip of coffee, stalling to flip through all the mental notes she’d made in preparation for telling Dana about how her entire life had been transformed this spring, how truly content she now was, how--
         
But Dana was already standing up, getting ready to take off. “That’s great, Mom—I’m so happy for you! So I’ll go find whoever I need to see.” She glanced around the dining room, but except for a few other breakfasting early risers, no one was available to point her in the right direction. “I don’t suppose you know who? No? Okay, well, I’ll check at the front desk—should be someone there by now. Bye, Mom, I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
         
Another air kiss and she was gone.
         
Sadie was tempted to fall into one of her old self-pitying moods, but pulled herself out of it before it had a chance to crystalize.
         
“Dear Lord,” she prayed silently. “Please save Dana, and while you’re at it, could you please make this new thinking of mine stick? Thank you, Lord, in Jesus’ name.”
         
Sadie's oatmeal was especially sweet that morning. She savored it gratefully.

​ --The Song of Sadie Sparrow, pages 316-317

Years ago, a creation-science lecturer was asked how he knew that God had called him to be a speaker on this subject. “I didn’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I just could see what needed to be done, and I did it.”
 
It seems to me that this is exactly how the Lord often works: He makes a need obvious to one of His servants, and soon enough “seeing” becomes “doing.”
 
Here are a few pressing needs I’ve observed at the nursing home where I hang out. See anything that might turn into a personal calling for you?
 
Personal shopper: Not many nursing-home residents are able to get out and shop for necessities or niceties. And few are able to access online stores themselves. If you enjoy shopping, and if there’s a way to get reimbursed for your expenditures via, for instance, a petty cash fund, perhaps you could become a personal shopper for as many residents as you have time to serve.
 
Even though it’s not my thing, I actually do some shopping for one of my resident friends—virtually all of it online. She has all of her marbles (and then some), as well as the ability to get me reimbursed quickly and easily, so it works out very well for both of us.
 
But how cool would it be for someone who loves to shop, and is a good money manager, to offer this service on a volunteer basis? On any given day your shopping basket might contain items from cosmetics to batteries, slippers to magnifying glasses, stationery to gifts for grandkids—whatever needs have become impossible for your elderly friends to meet under their own power.  
 
In-room gardener: Some residents receive wonderful indoor plants that they appreciate greatly, but are unable to care for themselves. Perhaps you could help those plants thrive, going from room to room each week to tend to them and, while you’re at it, having nice conversations with their owners.
 
Simply check the labels that are normally tucked into the soil for basic care instructions, and follow them to the letter. Or, to make your service even more personal, look up each variety on the internet, and print out any especially interesting information you may find—information about things like ideal fertilization schedules, repotting requirements, or the natural habitats of particularly exotic plants. Then share the details with their owners.                 
 
This service may require a minor investment on your part. For instance, I occasionally bring in distilled water and specialized fertilizer for one woman’s treasured orchid. But the costs are normally minimal, and if necessary, you could ask to be reimbursed.
 
Feed the birds: Some nursing homes allow you to set up and tend to feeders outside first-floor residents’ windows.  Might that task be up your alley? If so, your efforts will be highly appreciated.
 
Feeders and seed are not cheap; nor is the suet so beloved by woodpeckers in our part of the country.  So unless you’re able to underwrite the costs personally, you’ll need to discuss funding this project with your Activities Director. 
 
But if the finances can be worked out along with who-does-what details such as feeder setup and procuring the food, you’ll be providing these residents with hour after hour of pleasure all year long. And you can make the experience even more enjoyable for them by researching the species that frequent their feeders, or by bringing in bird-watching books that you’ve picked up at the library or thrift stores.  
 
Organizer: For any number of reasons, not all nursing-home residents are neatniks. But you could help one or more of them become and remain organized via periodic drawer-cleaning, closet-freshening and gleaning of important items from stacks of otherwise disposable papers and magazines.
 
As you proceed, you might find additional ways to serve a given resident—for instance, taking special clothing items home for hand-washing, ironing, or mending. And perhaps you could fetch a few file folders from the front office to create a potentially permanent fix for important papers.  
 
Become a scribe: Some nursing-home residents love to correspond with old friends and family members. Yet as we age, our handwriting can become practically illegible, and even handling paper, envelopes and stamps can become a real challenge.
 
Maybe you could help with this task, by writing out cards and letters for a few residents, preparing the envelopes and making sure that they get mailed.
                                                                                
I spent nearly four years doing this for a woman with Parkinson’s disease. In her case, we created rough first drafts and then polished the words until she was satisfied. Finally, I’d write our final draft on handsome stationery; I kept her well-stocked by shopping the sales at high-style discount stores.
 
Another woman with an enormous number of friends, children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren simply wanted to remember everyone’s birthday with simple greeting cards. For her, I found a month-by-month pocket folder and inexpensive packets of birthday cards at a local dollar store. Together, we organized it all so that at the end of each month, we could prepare the next month’s cards, complete with addresses, stamps and mailing dates noted on sticky notes; she then kept them on her bedside table for mailing on the appointed days.
 
What needs do you see? I’ve barely scratched the surface with these suggestions. Other valued services might include reading Scripture to the blind or making monthly runs to your local library for avid readers. If you start visiting nursing-home residents, you’ll no doubt spot many other ways you could be a blessing to each one.
 
Of course, any such services would need to be cleared ahead of time. In fact, that would be a good place to start, broaching your ideas to the Activities Director you report to.
 
Do you have other suggestions to share? If so, please let me know via this contact form or by emailing me at kitty@everlastingplace.com.