Our Neighbors

Devotion by: Liz Spoto

Isaiah 50:4-9

The Lord GOD has given me
the tongue of a teacher,
that I may know how to sustain
the weary with a word.
Morning by morning he wakens—
wakens my ear
to listen as those who are taught.
The Lord GOD has opened my ear,
and I was not rebellious,
I did not turn backwards.
I gave my back to those who struck me,
and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard;
I did not hide my face
from insult and spitting.

The Lord GOD helps me;
therefore I have not been disgraced;
therefore I have set my face like flint,
and I know that I shall not be put to shame;
he who vindicates me is near.
Who will contend with me?
Let us stand up together.
Who are my adversaries?
Let them confront me.
It is the Lord GOD who helps me;
who will declare me guilty?
All of them will wear out like a garment;
the moth will eat them up.

When I think about this passage of Isaiah, my memories go to my Mormor (that’s Swedish for Mother’s Mother.) She was an amazing woman, and we were very close. She was giving, loving, hard working; and, unfortunately, she lived a pretty tough life. Her first husband wasn’t a faithful man, and her second husband grew up in an orphanage, quite bitter at the world for the sorrows he had faced. Yet still she smiled and loved and helped others before she helped herself.

As I grew older, only one thing worried me about Mormor. I really didn’t know her beliefs about God. I knew that she was active in her church and that she went to church almost every Sunday. But I also knew that her church – interestingly enough – didn’t exactly focus on God or the Bible all that much. It was more of a comfort zone and a helping zone for people who wanted to reach out to others but perhaps believed a bit more in the works of people than in the saving power of God’s grace.

When Mormor had a stroke after I got married, I became even more concerned about her, so I asked her, point blank, about her beliefs. She said that, of course, she believed in a higher being who created our universe and guides our lives. But that was as far as she took it. She didn’t mention Jesus, and I didn’t press her on it. At the time, I was satisfied with her answer.

But as my understanding of the Bible grew, my nervousness set in again. What if this woman, who was so good and pure and wonderful, didn’t believe in our Savior? Unfortunately, I never got a chance to ask that question of her directly. Shortly after I was determined to talk to her, my sister called to say that Mormor was very close to the end of her life. I boarded a plane to head home that morning, but bad weather hit, and my plane was delayed. Crying at the airport, I begged the United Airlines crew to help me make my connection in Pittsburgh, so I could make it home to see my Mormor. They assured me that I would make it. It would be close, but they would hold my plane.

Well, I got to Pittsburgh, in time to see my connecting flight take off for my hometown. At that point, it was like a scene from the movies. I sank to the floor, wailing -- everyone must have thought I was nuts. Just then, on the intercom, I heard an announcement that the 11 a.m. chapel service was about to begin. What? A chapel at an airport? And a regular chapel service? I had never heard of such a thing. I dashed for the chapel and sat in the front row. Tears run down my cheeks as I think about the amazing peace that I felt as I sat, listening intently to the chaplain speak about God’s Word.

When I finally did land at the Jamestown airport, my sister was there with an enormous hug for me. She told me that Mormor had died while I was traveling – at 11 a.m. The exact time that I was sitting in the airport chapel, called there by a loudspeaker. God knew what I needed at the time. Instead of making my original connection and sitting on an airplane while Mormor died, He called me to His chapel and to His Word. And somehow, through that action, I felt like I had gotten my chance to speak with Mormor again. Somehow, God was telling me that everything was going to be all right. That she was safe with Him in heaven and that I would see her again one day.

I still wish I had been able to talk to my Mormor about Jesus, to let her know how much He means to me. But I will say that the experience changed me and has helped me to open up with others whom I love and others who are seeking God’s saving grace. I don’t feel awkward about sharing God’s Word now. And I certainly don’t miss a chance to share the good news with my own children everyday.

PRAYER: Dear God, Thank you for giving us peace in times of sorrow -- and for answering the questions that the world can’t answer for us. Please give us the knowledge and the courage to speak of You wisely and openly so that others may share in the magnificent grace that you offer.