Loving even when it's hard

Her name was Sheila. She started coming to our church and just quietly attended and left services for a number of months. We came to find out we were neighbors. Sheila never really graduated from a silent Sunday-only relationship with our church. But our family relationship grew a bit with her.

My boys mowed her lawn for her. And a lot of small talk was held on either of our front porches. But Sheila got sick. She got really sick. We continued to keep up the lawn, but now it was for free. When she went into the hospital, we made sure the house was okay and her trash would get out on trash day and her mail wouldn't pile up.

I remember going to visit her on Christmas Eve and then on Christmas day in the hospital. She was pretty depressed those days, but she smiled when I brought the boys in to see her.

Sheila's health continued to deteriorate. She became weaker and more frail. Her stays in the hospital would grow longer at each interval. When she would be home for a while, my wife, on more than a few occasions took her over chicken soup (or some similar dish) to cheer her up.

Then she got really bad. It became apparent that she wasn't coming home from the hospital. One of the numerous visits I had up there I met her sister. On one particular visit, her sister asked me to step out of her room where she proceeded to dress me down in the hallway for not having done more for her as a pastor.

In my own defense, I began to enumerate some of the things I had shared here earlier. But she only told me I should have done more. Then she began to tell me how the church should have done more (even though 90% of the church would never have even known who Sheila was due to her incognito attendance patterns).

I left Sheila's hospital room that night hurt and angry. Sheila died a couple days later. In anger and spite (I presume), Sheila's sister hired another pastor to perform the funeral (who at the graveside forgot her name). The whole ordeal stung me to my core.

But my wife was a great support and encouragement through the whole deal. A little later that year, the week of Christmas, there was a knock at my front door. It was cold and had recently snowed.

When I opened the front door, there was Sheila's sister. I was more than taken back, but composed myself quickly enough to invite her to step in out of the cold. She did.

When she came in I noticed tears on her cheeks. She told me in a shaky voice, "Mike, I wronged you. And I need you to forgive me for how I treated you when Sheila died."

Her words were like warm apple pie. I told her, "There's no need. I forgave you when it happened. I can't imagine how much hurt was in your heart when you lost your sister."

Those words seemed to release a flood of tears for her and then she embraced me there on my front porch. After a good hug and cry, Sheila's sister pulled out some homemade chocolate chip cookies she had in a zip lock bag she had put in the pocket of her parka. I humbly accepted (inwardly, that was almost as exciting as the whole forgiveness thing!)

Now Sheila's sister still comes over. She hasn't sold her sister's home yet, but is hoping to soon. We talk when she comes. And things are good.

Proverbs 17:17a "A friend loves at all times..."