Sunday Pain

I sat in my seat Sunday at church, wondering why I was there. I know why I go to church, and I am okay with those reasons. But, I couldn't help wondering why I didn't just walk out and enjoy the rainy evening with some good reading on my patio. I was sitting on a completely empty row of chairs, so I found myself in a comfortable spot. That changed when a man came and asked if he could sit by me and "be my friend". I figured he just wanted to get by me so he could sit a couple of seats down from me... Nope. He sat right beside me. Let me state again that the entire row was empty. We exchanged some small talk, then the service got started, thank God.

I stood up and started to sing, and soon forgot the strange man beside me. During the first song, an elderly couple came walking in. The lady was holding onto the old man to help him walk to their seat. I have seen these two before, and it wrenches my heart every time I see this guy. He looks like he is in pain with every awkward step he takes. His back is bent low from a hard life. My heart found a corner to cry in as I watched them walk past. I stared wondering if I would walk in such a way when I reached his age, because I don't want to. I don't want to have a physical state that forces others to look at me with pity. But, that is what I was doing to this man. Why was my souls aching at the site of this man? Lucky for me, the music ended, and Andy got up and started to preach.

I remember everything Andy said. I was listening and hearing what he had to say. He ended and it was time for the last song. I stood and started singing "Blessed Be Your Name", and the words hit me that way they always do. As we sang "Blessed be Your name, On the road marked with suffering, Though there's pain in the offering, Blessed be Your name" that old couple awkwardly walked over to light a candle and then headed to the alter. As painful as it was to watch him walk, it hurt worse to see the pain on his face bent down to kneel at the alter. I could almost feel the pain shoot down his body. My soul broke again, my eyes lost control, and I wept. "On the road marked with suffering, There's pain in the offering, Blessed be your name" Sometimes it hurts to live this life, and sometimes it is sunshine and birds singing. I watched this couple as they huddled together to pray. At that moment I envied him. His wife was leaning into him, holding him, while they lifted up their heart to the Lord. Is there a better portrait of what all of us ask for in a spouse?

This isn't an out cry for a spouse. This is me actually having a moment where I stopped worrying about me long enough to see what it means to sing "On the road marked with suffering, There's pain in the offering, (but) blessed be your name Lord Jesus" The service ended, and I walked away to finish the rest of my Sunday. What's a boy to do with the rest of his life?