Like a Herd of Turtles

"And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased."
Hebrews 13:16

My dad has always had a generous heart. He’s one of those men who would give you the shirt off his back. If you truly needed something—and he had it to give, along with the time—he would help almost without hesitation. He was a favorite grandparent, too. Every grandchild had him wrapped around their little finger, and he played along in grand fashion. Whether it was trips to McDonalds, candy from Kroger, or purchases from Menards for various exotic model builds. It was clear he received as much joy as he gave.

Acts of service. Being generous with what he had. These are qualities that have never left him.

Today, Dad lives in an assisted living facility not far from us. He and Mom are both enjoying—and sometimes just tolerating—the later decades of life. Dad, always shaped by rhythm and routine, heads to breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the set times every day. He’s joined by others who live by those same daily patterns. One of them is Father Denis.

They eat their meals together. Father Denis, a retired Catholic priest, has largely lost his hearing—and much of his short-term memory. But his warm smile and steady handshake still greet me every time I visit.

One day, Dad told me Father Denis was agitated. He kept saying he needed some cash. No one was quite sure why—everything in the facility is prearranged—but he was insistent. Dad couldn’t figure it out, yet he did have some cash in his room. “I’ll give you some money, Denis, if you need it.”

After lunch, Dad suggested they head to his room so he could hand over $40. Since neither of these gentlemen move very quickly anymore, it took a while. They were off like a herd of turtles.

When they finally arrived, Dad found his cash and gave it to a visibly relieved Denis. “I don’t know what he needed it for,” Dad said later. “Maybe a haircut.”

Because the hallway was unfamiliar, Denis got confused about how to get back to his own room. So, the two old men—friends mostly by proximity—wandered toward the elevators together, reorienting themselves until Denis could find his way.

Later that week, Dad told me the story: the need for money, the opportunity to help, the simple heartwarming act. The smile on his face said it all. In an assisted living community where real excitement is rare, this was an event.

Everything takes longer now—longer to move, longer to communicate, longer to express. I sat on the couch listening, smiling, appreciating how Dad’s generous heart—his deep desire to do right by people—had been stirred and warmed by that small gesture.

After he retold different parts of the story a few times, we sat quietly watching the evening news. When a commercial came on, I muted the TV. We sat in silence.

After a moment, Dad smiled and turned to me. “I guess I’ll never see that $40 again.” “Probably not,” I laughed. “Father Denis doesn’t remember very well… neither do I.” He smiled. We both had a chuckle. “But I love the generous heart you have, Dad. Always willing, always wanting to help. It’s who you are, not something you put on.”

He nodded, as if realizing what still remains, even as many other things fade. When we reach ripe old age, there’s no room for pretense. You simply are the overflow of what you’ve cultivated over a lifetime. Today is its undiluted form.

Jesus says, (Luke 6:45) “For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” I think it’s also true that out of the overflow of the heart, a life speaks. What is your life speaking today?

Blessings

Rusty

Prophetic Prayer & Communion
Sunday, March 29th, 5-7pm
Northstar Loveland

Basic Prayer Training
Saturday, March 28th, 9:30-11am
Northstar Loveland

Mariemont Church
Rus recently spoke at Mariemont Church on hearing God