Through Beatrice’s Eyes

Her arthritis was acting up again, and it was difficult to get out on a rainy evening, but Beatrice had only missed her monthly women’s gathering a handful of times in her entire adult life. She wasn’t about to let a little “liquid sunshine” keep her home. Besides, her serving group had spent the afternoon decorating the church basement with festive floral arrangements, and each of them had baked their very best strawberry shortcake, smothered with real whipped cream for the event.

Locking the front door, Beatrice stepped into the rain. She was looking forward to spending the evening at church with her granddaughter Lindsey, who had finally promised to take a little time away from her family. “She works all the time,” thought Beatrice, “and doesn’t know how to cook a decent meal, but she does seem genuinely interested in things of the Lord. So I should be grateful for that!” Beatrice knew there were many decisions to be made that evening, and hoped their special speaker wouldn’t mind sitting through the necessary discussions, before speaking.

Beatrice and her friends longed for more of the younger women to help in their work in the church. They lamented the lack of culinary expertise in the younger generation. “Who will serve for the funerals when we’re gone?” they wondered. “Will anyone else ever take charge of the potlucks, décor, spring cleaning, nursery, or the other unnoticed jobs we have always done?”

She was glad to hear of the Bible study some of the young working girls had started. Just so that it didn’t take the place of the monthly meeting at church.

Living alone, Grandma Beatrice rarely shared her testimony of faith with anyone who wasn’t already a Christian, but she had a burden for those who didn’t know her Lord. She loved praying for the missionaries abroad, and rejoiced when she heard stories of people overseas who had come to faith. One of her greatest desires was to see souls saved.

If only Lindsey would see the desire of her heart at this meeting tonight! If only she would want to join her and her friends in their gift of service to the church, and their ministry of prayer for the unsaved! She sat down, and began to wait in the front row.

Through Lindsey’s Eyes

Sighing, Lindsey stared out at the mud puddles swallowing her unpaved driveway. She wished she hadn’t promised her Grandma Beatrice that she would show up at the monthly women’s meeting. She felt guilty that she wouldn’t be spending the evening with her husband and kids after working all day. Though tired, she treasured her short time with her young family. Now she felt both exhausted, and resentful, though she really loved her grandmother, and wanted to please her.

Leaving the window to open a can of Spaghettios, Lindsey analyzed her conflicted emotions. She knew it would be a spiritually edifying meeting. She admired the wisdom of her grandmother and other older women at church, but she wished there was another venue to learn from them.

If only they could skip the lengthy business meeting that always preceded the “good stuff”, that would help. “If I were in charge,” she thought, “a leadership committee could make those decisions much more efficiently.” She had learned a good deal about delegating tasks at her workplace, but no one at church recognized those skills. She sighed again. A part of her yearned to work less and be able to volunteer at her church, but the other part ached with the struggle of juggling finances and family.

She was so thankful for the Bible study that she and a small group of friends had begun during their lunch break once a week. It was a spiritual oasis in a competitive working environment. One of their co-workers had come to trust in Christ, supported in their network of faith. Lindsey longed to share these stories of joy with Grandma Beatrice, but somehow felt intimidated. The Bible study wasn’t at church, after all.

As she cleared the table, and kissed her children good-bye, Lindsey closed the door behind her and headed out into the rain.

If only Grandma Beatrice could see her heart tonight. Would she be pleased that she had come? Would she appreciate the sacrifice she was making? Would Grandma listen to the ways that God had gifted her granddaughter, and was using her – if she dared to share it with her? Was there a way for each of them to learn from each other?

She smiled as she saw her Grandma waiting in the front row.