If You Can Still Read This,

Praise the Lord

Sometimes, Grace Worthy of Worship is simply remembering and being remembered. Grace explodes to limitless thanks for mutually loving relationships.

I recently received a remembrance that I will now share with you. May it remind us all of the impact we can have on everyone we meet.

Coach Gary West & His Wife Karen (August 09, 2025)

I felt so richly blessed when he posted it on Facebook along with a reminder about all of those who can read this now. His post was such a wonderful gift to my soul.

The Current Year is 2025.

Coach, what a wonderful memento you have given us in your repost and picture of you and your wife. Thank you so much for that. I am reposting it here as a tribute to you , your wife and my Mom, Rosalva Phoebe Armendariz Leal Aulenbacher, who was born August 31, 1932 and lived two  months beyond 88 years to October 30, 2020.

Again, thank you and your wife so much for the lovely post. For four short years of my life, 1967-1971, knowing you made an indelible impact on me, Coach. Seeing your name in the comments of a post sometime in the 1st half of 2025, my heart leapt in my chest, perhaps in a similar way that Elizabeth's heart must have skipped a beat in the proximity of Baby Jesus in Mary's womb (Luke 1:41). Just seeing the name on some comment rang a bell in my mind triggering memories as though it was now just yesterday. It rekindled memories almost lost to me of your presence in my life. Coach, that was around 50 years ago! And I remember it as though it was just yesterday. I would call that an indelible impact.

Suddenly I was 13-17 again  and just had to reach out to tell you thanks for the memories. And now, this post has blessed all of us who knew and still know you. You and your wife will remain written in my memory and in the bytes of the ether we call the Internet, as a part of God's Created Universe to be remembered forever more.

Coach, my greatest memories of you were that you seemed to really care who I was. You cared when I was hurt. You remembered that even though I didn't have the best arm or skills as a catcher that I could be relied upon to hit or get on base safely, almost every time I batted. You had confidence to put me in when the need was greatest. Change the title of this Creedence Clearwater, John Fogarty song, Centerfield, to Right Field and you did not hesitate to put me in. (I might as well had been the ball player model singing this song)

Then, Coach West reposted a reminder to all of us younger and older that reminds us all that our lives are legacies of Christ's graceful sacrifice made in love for those who believe in Him. We are His legacies, reminders of what He has lived through our lives. This was Coach's reposted reminder:

• If you were born between 1930 and 1946, you are part of something incredibly rare. Less than 1 percent of your generation is still with us today. You are now between 79 and 95 years old, and your lifetime is nothing short of a living time capsule. 

• You were born into struggle. The world around you was healing from the Great Depression, and soon after, it was thrown into war. You grew up knowing the value of every crumb, every scrap of foil, every drop of milk. Nothing was wasted. Everything mattered. 

• You remember a time when the milkman came to your doorstep, when discipline came from both home and school, and when excuses had no place. Life was simple, yet it demanded strength. 

• There were no screens to keep you entertained. Your imagination did the work. You played outside until the streetlights came on. You listened to stories unfold on the radio, and families gathered around it, not just for news but for togetherness. 

• Technology was just beginning. Phones were shared among neighbors, and if you needed to calculate something, you did it by hand. Typewriters clicked away long before computers were even imagined. The morning paper brought the world to your doorstep. 

• You lived through a time of peace after war, when the future looked bright and full of promise. No internet. No smartphones. No constant stream of headlines. Just the hope of better days and the quiet certainty that hard work would lead you there. 

• You are the last to remember a world where black-and-white TVs were a marvel, highways didn’t stretch across every state, shopping meant strolling through downtown, and polio cast a long shadow over every childhood. 

• While your parents rebuilt the world brick by brick, you grew up in an era that many today can only read about. You saw innovation rise, cities grow, and dreams take flight. 

• If you are over 79 today, take a moment to reflect. You lived through something extraordinary. You carry memories from a world that shaped everything we know now. And you are part of a generation that truly lived through some of the best of times. 

• You are one in a hundred. And that, in itself, is something remarkable.

I know, I know, ha, ha, ha!

And then out of nowhere it seemed, someone would sneeze, ACHOOOOO!, in cathedral-worthy decibels.

Did you know that time actually stands still in a sneeze?

It has been said that a person is no closer to metabolic death than when they sneeze. Whatever one was doing or thinking is sacrificed to make sure the sneezer has a chance to survive it.

Check out this news clip, which is presented as evidence of my truthfulness (We all know by now that everything in the news is Gospel, right?):

Back to the classroom.

As I had mentioned, I heard this sneeze that would wake the dead. ACHOOOOOO!!!!

I Immediately felt 30 pair of eyes penetrating me, looking for how I would react to such an interruption!

My immediate reaction?

BLESS YOU RICHLY!

And without skipping a beat, I would continue my oration. Afterall, it was urgent that my students were not deprived of the privilege having the fire of their heartfelt desire for the wisdom I was passing on to them quenched by my firehose of a voice.

I'd hear a little giggle around the room. And then suddenly, ACHOOOOOO! to which  would look up and douse with:

"TWICE IS NICE!"

 And then another sneeze and another and another sneeze, which like a rapid fired gunslinger of a teacher I responded in real time:

"THREE'S A CHARM";

"FOUR FOR MORE";

"FIVE ALIVE."

"Mercy me," I would add, "That Saharan dust sure must be powerful! Oh Lord please help us, we would not want to miss this wisdom, would we?"

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I hope you enjoyed this first post that might remind someone of things they may have also almost forgotten.

If you would like add comments, give me any feedback, or to post something you almost forgot, send them to me in an email or attached to an email to Mr. George at peacertnow@aol.com or aulygeo@gmail.com. You can also follow and message me at my Facebook address.

 

This posting is copyright protected by Creative Commons requirement that credit must be given to the creator and allowances are given to only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.  Any adaptations of and to it must be shared under the same terms.

 

 You Don't Have to Know Them Intimately to Minister to them

I came across a recent post in Meta Facebook that brought memories to the top of my mind that I haven't thought about for over twenty years. This clean link is a post about a man in a nursing home. His family does not visit him very often apparently. And though he does not want to worry his family, he is getting pretty lonely.

When I read his post, the memories of my past made me a little teary-eyed. The reason for my teary eyes was the realization that I'm probably just a few years behind this gentleman.

The fact is, this post about 89 year old Joseph, reminded me of the Bible Study Mission to nearby nursing homes that I initiated for our church's singles ministry over 20 years ago. You can ready what he said in his post by clicking his Facebook; otherwise, this is what he wrote:

“Today is my 89th birthday.

My name is Joseph, and I am sitting here, in a retirement home, with a plate of dumplings in front of me. I don't know who made these for me, nor who will wish me a happy birthday today. I have three kids but haven't seen them in a long time. They brought me here telling me it was for my own good, but time goes by, and the phone does not ring.

I am not angry, I am sad.

Sad because, deep in my heart, I never stopped loving them, despite their absence.

Sad because I don’t ask for much: just a hug, a word, a “Happy Birthday, Dad.”

I just wish somebody would remember me today.

If you’re reading this message, give me a thought. Not because you know me, but because even a stranger can bring some warmth where there is silence.

At my age, you live on memories and hope.

And today, my hope is that this message gets to the hearts of those who have forgotten to value affection, before it is too late.”

To all the dads and grandfathers that have been left alone, best wishes. You are loved, even if sometimes they don't tell you.

I had come across the need for a nursing home ministry when I was a consultant to Bristol Meyers to give them marketing feedback about incontinence devices they were working on for nursing homes.

As I went around talking with nursing home staffs and their patients, I was brought to my knees often in realization of what this gentleman points out. I came across too many examples exactly in the same mindset as this gentleman. The nursing home staffs pointed out specific examples of tenants who hadn't been contacted by any of their family members for several years worth of Birthdays, Valentines Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, etc. I remember coming across one elderly man curled up in his bed in a defensive ball not allowing the nursing staff to touch him and I saw the staff actually manhandle him to put on his incontinent diaper. Their tight grips and slips left bruises on his arms and legs because of the blood thinners he was on.

Visions of that scene were in my mind long after that experience. So, I asked our single adults to join me in providing Sunday Church services and Bible Studies for their elderly dwellers, as I had met many men and women experiencing similar loneliness described by his post. The Lord blessed the reach-out effort when ten to fifteen of my single adult members joined me on several occasions.

I vividly recall one elderly woman described by nursing staff as having no interest in Bible study or Sunday service and thus that I shouldn't waste my time with her. She was sharing a room with another lady who was described as someone who would surely have an interest. I went into their room and invited the lady that the staff referred to me. The other lady in the room stayed in her wheelchair by her bed with her head down. As I went in, I in a spritely and cheery manner, "Hi ladies; I just wanted to invite you both to a praise and worship service that our single adults want to share with you in about an hour. Let me know if you need any help in joining the fellowship." One of the ladies, the one who the staff suggested would probably have an interest, said, "Oh, yes, oh yes, I'd love to come." One of the nursing home staff members started rolling her into the praise and worship room.

The other lady in her wheelchair said nothing and purposefully avoided my gaze and attention. "O.K", I thought silently.

As I gingerly tiptoed out of the room, just before closing the door, the other lady asked, "Are you a Baptist?"

The question stopped me in my tracks. I turned to find her looking at me. "Hello, ma'am, how are you doing today, it is so good to talk with you," I answered. "Why, it just so happens that I am a Baptist. I didn't say anything else right away when she said, "I - AM - TOO," pointedly. "Would you honor me by letting me escort you to our service?" I asked. "Oh, no, no way; I would never do that," she said.

I took that as an opportunity to explain that this praise and worship was open to anyone wanting to know our Lord Jesus Christ better, answer any questions you may have, listen to your needs and desires so we can pray with and for you as we gather to praise and worship Him.

I nearly choked when she said, "Well," matter of factly, "I just don't like to be exposed to the "riff-raft." I went and sat by her and asked her what verse or verses she enjoyed and remembered in the Bible.

For the next hour, before the praise and worship service that other nursing home residents were escorted into the service room, this wonderful lady shared verses in Psalms from memory without needing to refer to her Bible, and she and I had our own little service, which ended with her and me praying together and thanking Jesus for caring enough about her to send someone like me to visit with her when she hadn't seen her own family in so long. She surprised me with a hug without my asking.

Yep. You can imagine the tears I cried after leaving her room, and the tears that come to my eyes even today as I remember it and read this gentleman's post above.

After that visit and after I shared my experiences to single adults at my church, the number of single adults doubled in subsequent services. Word got around to other nursing homes that began calling to request our praise and worship services at their facilities.

Today, I wonder how far away in years I might be before I experience a similar loneliness of elders before me, like that man curled up in a little ball and elegant lady that did not want to join with others for whatever reasons. You don't even have to know them to minister to them and care about them. You and I could be them in a few years.

2 Timothy 4:3-4 - "For the time will come when they will not tolerate sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires, and they will turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths."

After 30 years of trying to be a Christian without any discipleship at all, Christ through the Holy Spirit was gracious enough to minister to me for the next 30 years after I came to Him on my knees for His help in learning about Him and His Word. And He continues to minister to me to this day.

 

This posting is copyright protected by Creative Commons requirement that credit must be given to the creator and allowances are given to only noncommercial uses of the work are permitted.  Any adaptations of and to it must be shared under the same terms.