She reminds me of a bird, possessing endless energy in a tiny frame.
We first met her several years ago, when she approached our table at the coffee shop.
“What are you studying?” she asked, smiling and nodding at our open Bibles.
One of the ladies gave her a quick explanation and an invitation to join us. She jumped at the chance.
“Just let me gather my things. I’ll be right back,” she said, her British accent still detectable despite decades in the Midwest.
Her ‘things’ consisted of a purse and a bag containing her sweater, Bible, and current knitting project.
The bag, we learned, was her evangelistic tool kit. She carried it to the coffee shop each week, sometimes multiple days a week, luring patrons into conversation with her skillful needlework and quick smile. When that failed, she went to them – flitting to their table, chatting long enough to turn the strangers into friends.
Unwilling to remain caged at home while her husband, a pastor, attended meetings and worked at the church, she relished her coffee shop social time. She fast became a regular member of our Bible study group.
As the months unfolded, we learned more about our slender, seventy-something, silver-haired friend. Like the time she casually mentioned she swam several times a week.
“How many laps do I do? Oh, about twenty each time. Then, I do one underwater lap to finish. I love it! It’s a great time to pray. And it helps me burn off all this energy.”
At some point she shared that when she was about eighteen years old she lived with her family “in a flat on Abbey Road in Westminster.”
“You mean the Abbey Road?,” we asked.
“Yes, uh huh. We lived just a few doors down from the recording studio. One day as I passed by I asked the doorman if anyone famous ever came there. He said, ‘Oh yes, as a matter of fact, the Beatles will be here around midnight tonight.’ So, close to midnight, I took my camera and went there to wait for them. And they posed for me there on the sidewalk!” She swooned a moment before continuing.
Then, in her usual animated manner, stamping her feet under the table, pretending to cry, she finished the story, “But my camera’s flash didn’t work! Can you imagine? I didn’t get the picture! I was so angry when I got home I tossed that camera from the window and broke it to pieces!
We learned that as a young woman, she joined the Royal Air Force and became friends with a young Christian woman. The friend invited her to meetings with other young Christians.
“I’d never met anyone like her,” she told us. “She seemed to have something special and I wanted what she had! One day after attending a few of the meetings, when I was alone I prayed. I just told the Lord I was sorry for all my sin and that I wanted to follow him. The most beautiful feeling came over me! I couldn’t wait to talk to my friend about it.”
Her blue eyes widened, recalling the conversation. “I told her, I’m not sure what happened, but I feel like a whole new person. She told me, ‘I’ll tell you what happened; you were saved!’ I wasn’t sure I understood exactly what that meant. But I knew I was changed. And from then on I’ve lived for the Lord”
She told us about meeting her future husband – the American, a military man stationed in England.
“I told my mum, I’ve met the man I’m going to marry. I can still see her face when I told her he was American… but they loved him. So, that’s how I ended up back over here,” she smiled. She always smiles when she speaks of her husband.
We noticed she sometimes repeated stories. But then, don’t we all?
Soon she confided she was having health issues.
“My head feels all woozy – like I’m in a fog. They think I may have had some TIAs or something.”
More health issues followed, including episodes of passing out and a seizure. They hoped the pacemaker would help.
“The worst thing is that I can’t drive anymore,” she often told us. We began taking turns giving her a ride home each week.
Spotting a sports car in traffic always elicited a startling teenager-like squeal from her. “Oh! I love that car! I’d love to drive a car like that!” Then, in a quieter, thoughtful tone she’d add, “I’d love to drive…but I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. So, this is best. God knows what he’s doing.”
It became common during meetings for our friend to fish a small tablet or piece of paper from her purse, lift her pen, and politely ask, “Would you mind telling me your names, again? I just want to get them in my head.”
The repeated stories and comments come much more frequently now – often within the same hour.
Each week she apologizes for forgetting to do her lesson and tells us, “Next week, I promise I’ll have it done.” Then she’ll add, “And next week, I’m bringing my bigger Bible. The printing in this one is just too small.”
But the lessons no longer get done and the bigger Bible doesn’t make it into her bag. Still her courageous, cheerful outlook remains.
Lately she’s started telling us the same “new” news. Always in the same hesitant manner, like she’s sharing a secret. It’s the same news her husband shared with us a few months ago. The diagnosis is Alzheimer’s.
Even with its relentless progression, she continues to show up smiling each week. She continues to express gratitude and praise God. She continues to trust Him with her future. How many times have we seen her simply sigh, brush the air with her hand, dismissing the seriousness of her condition, saying, “It’s all right. This stuff is only temporary, anyway. One day I’ll be free from this flesh!”
During our studies, sometimes when we think she isn’t really tracking with us, she contributes to the conversation with a remarkably relevant Holy Spirit-borne insight or a funny quip delivered with her trademark dry humor and grin.
But, what she does best, what she’s always done best, is love. She loves God, she loves people and she loves His Word. Through the fog of the disease, her resilient spirit shines as an example of the truth of Nehemiah 8:10, “The joy of the Lord is your strength.”
Perhaps the lessons that resonate most deeply from our coffee shop Bible study aren’t the ones in written form at all. But instead, those taught by a life fully surrendered to Christ.
