A Letter

Dear Mrs. Harris,

Leaning over his walker, the stranger gently chided, "Young lady, you need to come apart and rest awhile." Without slackening my pace, I mumbled something about being too busy, and maybe later I could rest. I charged right by, intent upon all the "good" things I had to do that day--visit a friend in the hospital, write a paper, go to a rehearsal. Rest? Nope. That wasn't on the agenda.

But his gentle admonition continued whispering to my frantic soul. Slow down. Come apart. Rest....Be still. I could not escape it. I scurried back to the bench in hopes of finding him again.

There he sat with his wife, both lightly dozing while keeping one hand on their walkers.

They awoke and smiled as I passed. "May I join you?" I timidly asked as I sat on the bench. A nod. A smile. Silence...and more silence. I shifted uneasily in my seat. "What a beautiful butterfly!" the wife said at last. But it wasn't a comment driven by a dislike of silence or forced out by the awkwardness of the moment. Indeed, she was not the least bit uncomfortable as silence once again descended.

I felt the tension oozing out of my muscles. Come apart. A most delicious sense of calm swept over my spirit. I sighed. Not a sigh of worry or exhaustion, but of complete content The silence was soothing.

"Jesus loves us, this we know..." she had begun to warble that little song! And nothing seemed more natural than to sing along. So I did. Never before had that song seemed so real as it did when it passed through her lips. It ended. A hush fell. Then one of them quoted a passage of scripture. Another song. More scripture. Silence. Song. And that's how we passed the afternoon. I have no idea how long I was there. It didn't matter. We never had introductions. They were unnecessary. We were in Christ. And that was the most blessed time of fellowship I've ever known. Scripture was natural conversation for these dear saints. I later learned that I was sitting with Mr. & Mrs. Ludwig, precious, faithful servants of our Lord.

Mrs. Harris, that was my "beautiful thing" for the day. And the memory of it has been my "beautiful thing" for many days now. I had to share it with you. I wish you could have been there; you would have understood. Thank you for all you've done, for teaching me to see beauty all around me. thank you for your refreshing smile and inspiring faithfulness. I am praying that you will have a blessed week resting in Him.
Love, Stephanie Geter
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This was originally written as a private letter to a dear professor. But since she has begun copying and circulating it among the administration and faculty of the University, I feel at liberty to share it with you. It was a moment that changed my life. I trust you will rest in Him this week.