FINE AND FRUITFUL
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I haven’t seen Dr. Marlyn earlier but as I kept hearing her voice over telephone, simultaneously without my volition I mentally drew a design of her form in my mind’s computer. From her tone, I could easily sense the exuberance and no doubt the life of Christ bubbled in her like a babbling brook as informed by my friend Linda.
Dr. Marlyn told, “I will be there exactly at eight in the morning.”
I responded, “I will be glad to meet you then”
It was a conversation that lasted for just ten minutes, meanwhile everything got confirmed betwixt us. I reiterated the contents of our communication to my husband and children who also expressed their piece of happiness in Dr. Marlyn’s visit to our home. Our spirits inflated anticipating the arrival of that great day like a rocket’s take off. Everyday some small extra activity was added to each of our usual schedule to make her visit memorable and a meaningful one.
It was a sweltering Sunday. The trees never danced because air the regular piano player had unexpectedly taken a day off. With no music being played, how could one ever expect a dance? Indeed trees were right in refusing to dance.
I kept moving to and fro like a cat that has given birth from the kitchen to our entrance once every fifteen minutes to check the arrival of a cream colored contessa car. Simultaneously, I was multi-tasking with getting the breakfast table laid, throwing commands to my children now and then, mopping the floor, taking care to see the plants were fed, the remaining dirty dishes in the sink were washed and much more. In short, I was spinning like a top.
Like a gun shot, striking the target, exactly at eight there was Dr. Marlyn entering our house like a smiling emoticon. Her punctuality and dressing sense impressed me greatly. She was much above my imagination of her. Yet I did not dare to ask her age nor about her family background. I simply knew her as an intimate friend of my friend Linda. While in the chain process of our interaction, both of us were privileged with this opportunity to know each other through this invitation to speak in our congregation. When God attests an assignment who can ever dare thwart it?
Breakfast time was very brief. As is usual, for a fifteen minutes show I had rehearsed nearly a week’s time. To be frank, I am poor in playing the role of a hostess although I love people. Hospitality is surely an art to be learnt if not at the mastery level at least in basics which I confess I am yet to learn. Once again Dr. Marlyn’s self-control made an impact in my life for she did not eat anything extra attached in my menu other than what she had made known to me.
We entered the church exactly at half past eight. The service would begin in another thirty minutes. For the first time in my life, I accompanied a speaker and I must admit that I was quite nervous. The speaker on the other hand being much seasoned was composed. The service commenced and finally the time that I longed for arrived. The speaker stood on the podium.
There was pin-drop silence as everyone sat glued to their seats engrossed in her harangue with no notion of having to look at their wrist watch. In the course of her sermon, I got answers to questions that were hidden in the secret vault of my heart but for which I had not mustered enough courage to ask her directly. She told, “I am now seventy seven years old. God has blessed me with a wonderful husband.” She repeated, “Just one” and there arose waves of giggling like ripples. She went on further to say, “I have two sons and a daughter. All of them are having their own nests. God has blessed me with seven grand children. My husband and I are indeed having a wonderful time learning from them.” Lost in thoughts I felt as if I had fallen from my chair whilst fumbling within, “My God! I thought she was just thirty-five.”
At once, the following verse popped up before me, “They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green” and left me pondering. (Psalm 92:14). This is how God wants to see everyone in the days of their twilight years.
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