I can't tell you how many times I've read in the Bible that we should care for the poor, the orphan, the widowed. The poor and the orphaned I've served, but for some reason it's never occurred to me to seek out, serve and love the widowed. Has it ever occurred to you?
I know it sounds really ignorant and a bit silly but I kind of figured that the "widowed" were only around during the major wars of the past century; WWI, WWII, Vietnam, Korea, etc. Obviously we have women who still lose their loved ones in war, cancers of all sorts seem to be cutting short way too many lives and then there's always accidents. I imagine our churches have numerous opportunities to serve this group that Christ and Paul found important enough to list specifically.
The following I share with you not to brag and say, "Look at me! I'm doing a great job in this area," but share a bit of the strong filling in my chest after the evening as well as a realization of missing the mark completely on this for so long.
We have a "tía" who lost her husband recently to cancer (about 7 months ago). We never had the opportunity to meet him, but we've heard amazing things and our host family, the Benavides, just so happened to be close friends with her and her late husband. We met her one night late last fall at the Benavides' house, had a blast chatting it up and then scheduled and enjoyed a dinner together maybe two or three weeks later at her house.
4 months later we're finally getting together for another dinner. I say that with a little bit of shame seeing as how I imagine anyone who lost a loved one would love company to help with the coping processes a bit more often than 4 months...and yet we dropped the ball. Obviously we don't carry all the responsibility but this story isn't about throwing the blame or spreading it paper thin so it doesn't sting as much.
We had a blast. Cristina, our "tía" brought over a batch of homemade waffles, which are a rarity in Chile. Two of her children live in the US and are married to Gringos, which has clearly brushed off on her cooking/eating preferences. They were delicious. After the waffle appetizers Christine and I served up some homemade pizza (with the pizza stone! Thanks again John and Cheryl) and we just sat around and did what Chileans do best after a meal, converse.
It was so good to just talk about everything and it's even crazier because Christina knows a lot about the South East Coast of the US, which is where her son and daughter's families live. The conversation flew so naturally from how much we love Chick-fil-a, planning a biking outing around the neighborhood, how happy we are in our house, church, ministries, the calling we all feel from God, etc.
As I walked Christina home we continued talking effortlessly. Right before I'm about to leave her house I notice a book case stacked with books that tell decades upon decades of stories, histories, knowledge, literature. She had told me that her husband was a history professor and from his book collection it looks like a pretty darn impressive one. She passes me a few and I can't help but select a few others that draw me in. Maybe through these books I'll get to know him a bit more or better yet prep for the awesome conversation that we'll have one day up there in paradise.
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