Gently, softly

Ecclesiastes 2:24-25

"24 A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, 25 for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?"

Bright eyed and bushy tailed we left Davidson hall, our destination, Ocean County Citadel, NJ. Our journey would span many more years than the two hours plus traffic, it would take us to reach Ocean County; we were on our way to visit officers from years gone by. "What good can come of a group of youth workers going to meet the old retireds?"

The Retired Officers Fellowship which meets in South Jersey has members whose officership has taken them all over the world. Commissioners, Colonels, Lt. Colonels & Majors, indistinguishable in their civilian clothing, only recognized for their faithful service when they would joke with one another, "Well, Commissioner, what do you think?" "Major, stop talking I can't hear the question!" It was beautiful, true joy; it was difficult not to be taken up into it all. As we sat at lunch discussing life, they would share about their grandchildren and they could not help but show their pride in them as their discussed their various achievements. These men and women were about people.

Neither of my grandparents, nor my parents were officers, and yet there was a connectedness I felt towards these heroes. I think it was their Grandparentness. ;)My Papa Davie always has a smell of strong tea about him, that and Old Spice. My Wee Gran, smelled like Oil of Olay, what happy smells those are for me. Needless to say, both are common to the generation I found myself in. And then there are their hands.

My Wee Gran had very veiny hands, I used to play with her hands as she was sitting, it amazed me that her hands had so much extra skin on the back of them; I would sit and move it around, always falling back into the place it had begun. I loved her hands; they were workers hands. She baked dumpling (fruit cake)and bathed weans (children)with those hands, peeled apples and combed hair. She was a silly Wee Gran, she would pretend to be the Incredible Hulk; she was amazing. We, (my brother, sister and I,) would sit at her feet as she peeled apples and oranges for us to eat, cutting them into bitesized pieces. She was a wonder; when my siblings and I were naughty, she would tell us that she was taking my Mammie back to Sunny Bellshill ;) We would greet, (cry) she would giggle and then get a row from my Mammie. My Wee Gran had the same joy the Retired Officers have, contagious. No one ever said, "I don't want to go to Wee Gran's!" Everyone moved as quickly as possible to get there as soon as possible.

All of my ministry has been focused on youth work; I've heard many catchy phrases about "youth being the Army of today"; "the youth are not the future, they are the Army of the now!" All of it is true, I'm not turning my coat, but I feel strongly, that the Army of yesterday is equally the Army of today and that they have much to teach us young whipper-snappers; I'd give anything for their wisdom and knowledge, for their intimacy with Jesus and their hands; their wrinkly hands...

What good can come of a group of youth workers going to visit with the old retireds? Joy, highly contagious joy.