A Treasured Acquaintance

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!”  On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable… 1 Cor 12:21-22

 

Like many of you, there isn’t any one person who’s walked closely alongside me as a mentor.  Rather, the Lord has used many people in my life, from friends to casual acquaintances, to set examples, speak words of wisdom or caution, or to bring encouragement. One such person was Starr.

I don’t remember the first time I met Starr, which surprises me because she tended to stand out in a crowd. She was tall and spoke loudly, with a personality to match. With her bright white hair and unlined skin, it was hard to judge her age — early 60s, maybe? She showed up one Sunday on the doorstep of my North Carolina church, hands raised in excitement to meet other people who loved Jesus. She was particularly grateful for two reasons: our church plant was only two parking lots away from the rehabilitation center where she was temporarily staying, so she could easily walk over, and our church had a practice of wearing name tags. The second thing you learned about Starr, after her name, was that she had very little short-term memory due to an illness, and zero memory for others’ names.  At some point she’d lived in South Carolina and been married; she had grown children in other states; she spoke of working at a computer in her old life. Finance, perhaps? Business? Administration? She couldn’t say.  However, her wit and understanding weren’t to be underestimated when it came to her immediate surroundings.  During one sermon when our pastor was going on about the total depravity of humankind (a favorite topic), she leaned over to me and whispered, “I know he’s better educated than I am, and I’d never go against him or the Bible, but when is he going to get to the part about how we’re holy and redeemed in Jesus?” I wanted to cheer.

The third thing you learned about Starr — and I do mean that everyone learned it — was that she was sustained by joy in the Lord and the presence of the Holy Spirit.  Like Brother Lawrence, she quietly spoke with Him all the time and looked for Him in everything. In return, the Spirit gave her a depth of insight that I’d never before encountered. Many were the Sundays she would listen to my description of my week and tell me how I was doing, or what God was doing, more accurately than I could express myself. It was uncanny and intriguing. Starr particularly enjoyed seeing photos I’d taken on my walks and hikes.  The old telephone pole covered in vines? To her, that was a reminder of the cross of Christ, praise God. The metal gate with three bars? The Trinity.  One afternoon we visited the nearby Botanical Garden. I knew she’d delight in the beautiful flowers — and she did — but more than that, she was excited to talk to EVERY single person we encountered about “what Jesus had done for her,” “just to make sure they knew,”  though she was surprisingly gentle in her approach. Most folks politely edged away, but a few engaged — fellow believers, mainly.  One artist was so touched that she gifted Starr a drawing she’d just finished en plein air.

I want to be careful not to romanticize Starr’s brain injury. She had suffered tremendous loss, and though she rarely mentioned it, her life as an able-bodied person staying in a facility with very ill patients was challenging for both her and the staff.  Forming relationships is hard when you can’t remember people’s names and aren’t sure of their faces. It’s also possible that she was just as enthusiastic about Jesus prior to her injury; she clearly came from a more charismatic background. In the midst of the darkness and sorrow, God sustained her and met her with joy, reassuring her of her identity as His well-beloved child.

God also used His relationship with Starr to remind me of the importance and presence of the Holy Spirit, and of ways that I used to spend time with Him in college. InterVarsity’s “retreats of silence” had once been key, where we’d set aside at least three hours outdoors to walk or sit and pray, as well as the times I’d practiced being still before Him, remembering that He is God.  It wasn’t that my North Carolina church discouraged these practices, necessarily, but they were never mentioned, and somewhere along the way I’d forgotten.  Starr was one of several people whom God used to start me down a path that eventually led me to a renewed relationship with Him (and to CCA, as it turns out). And although Starr’s approach to evangelism isn’t one I’d recommend for everyone, I can’t help but wonder how many others had their curiosity piqued by her testimony, or how many other believers she encouraged along the way. Starr reminded me to look for God’s beauty in small things, to be ready to share about the hope I have in Christ, and to trust that by His Spirit who dwells within us, He is using each of us to build up His Kingdom in ways we might never know this side of heaven.

As for Starr, she worshiped with us for a handful of months, and then one Sunday she was gone. The care home staff told me that her daughter had come earlier than expected to move her to a better facility in Ohio (praise God!). Wherever she’s at, I pray that God continues to sustain her and give her His peace.  I’m sad that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye, but I can’t wait to see her again, fully restored, on the day that we worship our Savior with all veils lifted. What glorious joy that will be!

In his defense Jesus said to them, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I too am working.” John 5:17 (NIV) 

Nikki Jarrett