Today Dean and I visited a friend of mine, 92 years young, who had a stroke recently and now resides in an assisted living home. I call it a home, rather than a facility, because it definitely had the feel of a home. I like that. Nobody wants to reside in a place that resembles a hospital, even though sometimes the level of nursing care needed calls for that environment.
The lady we visited seems to have adjusted well to her new living arrangement, although she loved having her own apartment for as long as she did. Before her stroke, she had a unique ministry. She cut out storytelling felts for missionaries to bring to children in other countries. It was alot of work to cut out and assemble those large sets of felts, but she worked at it with a passion. And few people knew of her immense undertaking.
Since she has moved into the assisted living home, she has changed her missionary goals and now considers herself a missionary right where she's at. She no longer is able to cut the felts because of the stroke, but she is a great Christian witness to her new friends there. She was an inspiration to Dean and I, and our visit was meant to benefit her. I think God knew she was ready for a rest, but He still allows her to serve Him in a meaningful way by telling others of her faith. How willing are we to let God guide us in the choice of a ministry and be satisfied with His choice as she has done?
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