I was shy and quiet by nature. The change rocked my world, and insecurity became my companion. At school most the students had been raised together. It was a tight knit community. It felt hard to fit in. I was different. My parents were conservative. I didn't dance or swim at public pools. My clothing was weird. I didn't wear shorts. I didn't talk like everyone else. I didn't even know what the cuss words were before that time.
I'll be the first to admit that it was largely my insecurity that made it hard for me. I don't blame my classmates. I look back and I'm grateful for this time of struggle as I tried to find myself and who I was. I didn't find my place at school with my friends. Instead I was led to discover confidence in who God made me to be through what some might consider unlikely sources.
There was a senior neighbor lady in her 80's who lived in a little house behind us. She found out I liked learning crafts, and she became determined to teach me how to tat. I would go over to her house at least once a week and painstakingly try to figure out how to master this nearly lost art. I picked out hundreds of knots and broke a lot of thread in the process. However, she patiently guided me and after a year I began to successfully create tatted lace.
Beulah was a lady who lived simply. She loved to tell me about her family, show me pictures of them, and take me quilting at the Gold Dust Hotel with her. Reflecting back, I wonder why she spent so many hours with me. I didn't have much to offer. However, after a long day at school and worrying about what others thought of me, I could find refuge at her house. She listened, but mostly she just thought I was wonderful. She made me feel special. That's what I needed.
One day, Beulah asked me to take some books down the block to another neighbor lady who was also in her 80's. Her name was Ruth. She was the direct opposite of Beulah in personality. Whereas Beulah was calm, easygoing, and quiet, Ruth was a lively character with an opinion about everything. Her little house was full of stuff from floor to ceiling. There was just a walkway between furniture and rooms.
Ruth was a lonely soul, and she invited me to stay and visit with her. That led to once a week visits to her house. I always went the evening that The Cosby Show was on. We would watch it together except come March. She loved basketball season and didn't miss a game. She watched it loud so she didn't miss a play. She yelled and said "not so nice" things to the refs. And, oh how she hated Larry Bird. She called him "Ole Bird Legs." I had no love for basketball, but Ruth was entertaining and I enjoyed her company. I also didn't mind the sweet treats she fed me.
Both Beulah and Ruth became important parts of my life because they helped me to find purpose. I felt like I was doing something of significance to keep them company. Sometimes they had me help clean house or run errands for them too. I felt needed and wanted in their company. Most importantly though they both offered me unconditional love and acceptance. What I wore and how I talked didn't matter to them. They accepted me as I was. This gave me confidence.
My junior year of high school, I lost both these dear ladies. Beulah died of pneumonia. Ruth had a massive heart attack. I know my parents worried about me with these losses. I refused to go to their funerals because I didn't want my last memory of them to be in a casket. I wanted to remember those evenings in their living rooms. I wanted to think of them and the laughter and love we shared. I know a funeral creates closure, but I didn't want closure. I needed the security of the happy memories they had given me more.
I think of Beulah and Ruth, and I remember their living rooms full of love for me. I realize they were an important part of my learning to drop my insecurity. They helped me realize I had a Heavenly Father whose love was even greater, and I could walk with confidence. It didn't matter what others thought. I could let the insecurity go. I could embrace His love.
The love these ladies shared with me has led me to treasure what the older generation has to offer to the younger. Where many are too busy to spend time with a young person, time is what many of this generation have. Time to pray. Time to sit and listen. Time to meet the very basic deep emotional needs of a young person by offering simple love.
Recently I read a news article about a church asking its older members to leave because they needed to make room for the younger generation. I've also had conversations with several in their 70's, and they are feeling pushed out, not needed, not appreciated, and like there is no place for them in the church anymore. This has triggered outrage within my heart. God did not come for just a single generation. The church is a body. We need all... from the young to the old. If we cut off one part, we will never be whole and be the church God intends us to be.
"Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, so it is with Christ's body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other." Romans 12:4-5 NLT
We have an epidemic right now of young people feeling lost and lonely. The answer is sitting right in front of us, and yet some dare to push it out the door. We think their usefulness is gone. It is not! How it must break God's heart that we do not see. The church body must come together. We must be the connected body God made us to be. When we do this our young people will find they are loved, they have purpose, and they are valued. Our older generation will know that they are invaluable in God's kingdom work, they are still useful, and maybe... just maybe... they will find they are loved, they have a purpose, and they are valued too. We are connected for a purpose.
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