Hidden Saints

Every so often in my job I come across some of the most amazing saints tucked away in small, dingy apartments. They have little contact with the outside world, and sometimes, their family doesn't even realize the treasure that they are. I cannot tell you what a profound pleasure it is to sit in their presence and know with utter certainty that God is making Himself known to me as they speak. Today, I met Mrs. T. She was a Katrina evacuee last year. She and her daughter and grandson escaped New Orleans just hours before the storm hit and have relocated their entire lives to Fort Worth. Only, you can't really bring your "life" with you. They left behind family and friends and a community they'd known forever. I felt guilty (and elated) as I entered Mrs. T's bedroom this morning because her daughter told me as I headed down the hall that Mrs. T was "just" reading her Bible. What I found in that room caused my eyes to water before she ever uttered a word. A precious, aged, black woman in a rumpled house dress sat in a wheelchair facing her nightstand with her Bible laid out, halfway in her lap, halfway on the table under the lamp, open to Psalm 52, her crooked finger tracing every word as she read. I sat beside her and efficiently asked all of my job-related questions. As I finished the interview, I just couldn't help myself. I folded my papers and set them aside before smiling at her and asking what she was reading. I wish I knew how to convey the light in her eyes or the tenderness of her voice as she began to speak to me about the Psalms. She loves the Psalms. She meets God there, in those pages. She quoted to me from Psalm 121, Psalm 91, and many others. When I mentioned to her that I was involved with a group of college-age girls, going through the Psalms and seeking to learn more of God's character through them, she grew so animated. She spoke to me then of the goodness of God and of His good plan for all who would believe on Him. She spoke the entire message of the Gospel to me quoting Scripture, running precious passages and promises of the Bible together, weaving the beautiful story with such confidence. She told me that she'd been trusting Jesus since 1962, and He's never let her down. She talked to me about how she trusts Him and how He speaks to her, interjecting "'Cause you knows His sheeps hears His voice. That's in John." Oh, don't I know it. She told me how she learned a long time ago not to question Him, just to obey, and how she knew that faith in Him is what helped rescue her and her family from Katrina last year. She didn't question the prompting in her spirit to leave, she just obeyed. It would have been an imense honor just to sit with her and hear her story, but there was so much more to it than that for me today. You see, all week, the Lord's been speaking to me, telling me that I am going to have to trust Him beyond what I can see, to believe Him even if circumstances appear otherwise. I'd been feeling convicted about having an unwaivering obedience. Then, this morning, I had a song based on Lamentations 3:22-24 stuck in my head. It says, "The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning, new every morning. Great is Your faithfulness!" As Mrs. T finished her stories of God's goodness to her, I spoke the words aloud, "because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed. His mercies are new everymorning," and she finished for me with a triumphant grin, "Great is His faithfulness!" I knew then that it was time for me to go, and I kissed her cheek and thanked her for sharing her story, for speaking wisdom to me from the Word of God, for being a faithful saint. She held my hand, invited me to come back again soon, and spoke words of blessing over me as I left, and I passed her nurse coming to check on her as I moved back down the hall and out the front door.