Journal of Sacred Work

(Note: The following essay was written by Catherine Self, Sr. V.P. of the Baptist Healing Trust.)

   I saw an angel today. She floated among the elders, white-haired men and women gathered for a time of prayer and singing in a senior citizens center. As she entered the room, faces that had seemed frozen with time lifted to make eye contact. Eyes brightened and weathered hands reached out in greeting.  Calling her by name, those who could speak spoke her name with tenderness. In one voice I heard the spirit of a small child greeting a favored friend.

   Songbooks were patiently handed to each one present, carefully turned to just the right page. Singing to the beat of a prerecorded tape, the group sang verse after verse, hymn after hymn.

   Voices weakened by time and disease blended into a cacophony of differing pitches and halting rhythms. In some, familiarity with the words made the moment easy. For others following the words seemed to be a labor. For one, just holding the book appeared to be a triumph! As notes flowed, the angel moved quietly among her elders, touching this one at the shoulder, finding the right page for another.

   One woman, small in statute with eyes that did not seem to focus, sang every word with only a rare glance to the printed page. These were words and notes sung how many times before? Every word articulated, every note seeming to be tied to some memory – her face framed with a faraway look – present in body but I could not sense her heart, her soul. At least not until the angel came to her side. With a hand placed gently on the frail shoulder, the angel stooped to make eye contact.  Slowly a once bowed face lifted, eyes focused and filled with light, a warm and widening smile emerged, a heart bloomed, and a moment of eternity was shared.

   I saw an angel today. She moved among her elders with grace and love…giving all, asking nothing in return. And as she left that place, I saw Love left in her place.

We all have the opportunity to encounter others with grace and love, and to leave in our place the healing of Love. It takes so little – a gentle touch, a slowed pace, a quiet voice, a listening heart. What do these things cost us, really?

   We are all busy. I understand that. The angel I saw today is certainly busy. She provides care in three different centers, crisscrossing a frantic city to move from one place of service to another. She juggles the ever present demands and expectations of a growing number of clients who come to her seeking emotional, mental, and spiritual care. Within her grows a new life soon to be born, and her body is tired, her mind racing with details of preparation and anticipation and even a little fear at the changes coming into her own life. And yet she pauses, slowing her pace, giving from a sweet grace that overflows with Love. Although I have known her and mentored her for almost twenty-eight years, she is better than I am at taking care of self. The student has surpassed the master. I think that understanding the deep need for self-care may be her secret. She has clearly embraced the golden thread of caring and is taking it into the next generation, and for that I am grateful.

   I am also grateful that she carries under her heart the one I will soon call grandson. He is a blessed baby indeed.