Monday of the Seventh Week of Easter, June 2, 2025
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
George
The father of orphans and the defender of widows is God in his holy dwelling. God gives a home to the forsaken; he leads forth prisoners to prosperity.
During spring, summer and fall our neighbor George sits on his front stoop of an evening, as did his roommate Gerri for many years until she passed away two years ago. Gerri was a librarian at the University of Illinois, and George helped her keep up the house and yard. She planted many flowers and knew the name of every weed. Gerri wouldn’t let us cut much down on our mutual fenceline, because she valued what most of us didn’t. George honors her memory and doesn’t cut much down either.
Except the grass. He cuts our grass when he cuts his own, with a beautiful zero turn Cub Cadet mower. He can’t get that in our back yard, but I saw him stealthily come in Friday with a push mower to do the back. We appreciate George so much. His health isn’t the best, and soon he expects to have surgery to bypass a blocked carotid artery.
We had chickens for a few years before we moved to Austin in 2020, and George fed them when they got into his yard. Generally they came back on their own before dark. Having him nearby often made it much easier on us when they didn’t (come back on their own).
George has weekend visitors, and often they play fine old blues and soul music late into the night. Sometimes I sit outside in the dark and just listen. Their conversation and laughter are more music to my ears than an intrusion. Normally our neighbors, both in Austin and Urbana, are more quiet. But George’s music is better than silence most of the time.
When we got here two weeks ago, George came and said hello, welcoming us. He was proud of the work he’d done cleaning out weeds in the hedge between our driveways. Now we can step through the bottom of the 9-foot-high hedge if we want to get together now and then. Gerri was a talker, and sometimes I avoided her. But George is quiet, friendly, and unassuming, maybe a little shy. I’ve never thought he talked too much. I hope we spend at least a little time together this summer.
Paul asked the Ephesians, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” They answered him, “We have never even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” Then they were baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus, and when Paul laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them.
I don’t know if George is a church-goer. Gerri was a New York City Lutheran, but she stopped attending church a long time ago. She enjoyed talking theology, though. I imagine George stays home on Sunday mornings. Would he like to go with us sometime to the small, unpretentious, welcoming Vineyard church we often attend in Mahomet? We could ask him. Usually there is good music and the sermons are short.
If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God.
On Friday night I walked around downtown Champaign for a couple of hours. At the first Friday Night Live of the summer, eight bands played on four stages, and plenty of food trucks fed the couple thousand people walking around with me. Maybe George was there, but I didn’t see him. His car isn’t running; he takes the bus instead. The bus runs down Lincoln Avenue and stops several times each day just between his home and ours.
My favorite band on Friday, the Painkillers, have been locally popular for twenty years. Dawn Clark ripped away on “Sweet Home Chicago.” Everybody was either dancing or wanting to. Sunset came and went, and the band played on.
Behold the hour is coming and has arrived when each of you will be scattered to his own home. But even then you will have peace in me. In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world.
(Acts 19, Psalm 68, Colossians 3, John 16)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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