Golden Threads

There I was - entering a church building where I knew no one; not a single soul.  And oh, happy providence, I sat next to Lillian.  She became one of the precious golden threads that brought me into fellowship at West Toronto Baptist Church,(WTBC).  She was an older lady; petite and sharply dressed.  Twinkle in her eyes and hands folded so demurely on her lap, she held her purse in that sweet manner of her generation.

Our first conversation:

“Anyone sitting here,” was my question.

“Sit next to me, dear,”  was her response.

Well, as a Cape Bretoner, that ‘dear’ got me comfy 'right quick.'

 “What’s your name, dear?”

“Francine.  And yours?”

“Lillian.  Lillian Scott.  I love you, dear.”

I nearly burst into tears right then and there.  “Oh God,” I prayed, “You have given me such a gift!”

And so the treasury of a thousand smiles and sweet fellowship began.   I met her husband on that first night.  Jim.  I couldn’t bring myself to call him by his first name.  My father would have given me quite the lecture.  I ended up calling Lillian by her first name but called Jim, Mr. Scott.  I couldn’t help it.

I didn’t know it then, but I came to understand that dear Lillian was slipping into that uncertain world of Alzheimer’s - a disease that bullied its way into her life. Mr. Scott loved her so; with a fierce and yet gentle passion that encouraged my heart perhaps more than they both knew.  I needed them.  I learned from them.  They loved me; this stranger in their midst.  They wove me into the very fabric of WTBC, where I became a full time Outreach Missionary. For 15 of those 20 years in the Junction, the west end of Toronto, Lillian and Mr. Scott were there, sometimes literally holding my hand.  Starting with them, many wonderful seniors became intricately entwined with my life.

Over time, Lillian and Mr. Scott moved into a Seniors’ Residence.  And then she moved to the TLC unit.  Visiting Lillian was such an honour. We would chat about anything and everything.  I would sing and read Scripture and pray with her.  She didn’t remember me, but I remembered her.  Oftentimes,  Mr. Scott would be there.  His face would crinkle up in a smile and his eyes would light up with such delight.  Oh- the gift of those precious moments I had with them. 

There were challenges, and heartaches, as the disease stole away some of Lillian’s sweet nature.  I would say to Mr. Scott: “I know her ways of behaving have changed, but we also know that the real Lillian is still there - in need of joy and grace; deserving dignity and respect.”  His eyes shining with tears, he would nod his head and we would pray.

As much as Mr. Scott loved Lillian, he loved Jesus more.  Every month, when a few of us would meet for prayer in his apartment, we spent no time on small talk.  We spent time on our knees before the Lord.  And I am grateful.  I have no doubt that his prayers are still being answered on my behalf, and for the teens in the Junction who are now adults,  for West Toronto Baptist Church, and for the missionaries whose names he had written on sheets of paper - paper that became soaked and blotched from many a tear.

I thank God for these dear saints.  Both of them were already well into their senior years, their golden years, when I met them.  God used them in my life in more ways than I can count.  I pray that I will always have time for seniors. May I serve them well and love them well; these golden threads, woven into the fabric of my life, and into the life of the church.  

Every church needs them.  They need the church. 

Speaking of the church, Paul says:

 “Knit together in love”(Colossians 2:2); 

knit together by God’s grace and design.

Even now I miss Lillian and Mr. Scott with an aching in my soul

that I hope never goes away this side of heaven.

(Photo used with family’s permission)