She treated me right: In memory of Robin our neighbor, who used to serve me ice cream

busyness

[biz-ee-nis]

noun

1.the quality or condition of being busy.

2. lively but meaningless activity

We were on vacation last week and while we were gone some stuff happened here that makes me sad. A 45-year old lady from neighboring Cameron drowned out on the Chain. I didn't know her but her nephew used to run Cross for us. A family has been robbed of their loved one way before her time. Next, much to the surprise of everyone in the circles I run in, the Chetek City Council decided to approve the sale of Knapp Haven, our 99-bed nursing home, to a for-profit corporation. The hope of those who worked there, some of whom belong to our fellowship, was that the council would lease the facility to a faith-based non-profit down the road from us but instead chose to go with some big firm from New Jersey. And thirdly, our neighbor Robin died at the age of 54 of brain cancer.

Xtreme is the Best

Admittedly, I didn't know Robin well. She didn't live next door or across the street from us. She lived a few blocks away. A few winters ago on a snowy day, she got stuck in her own driveway and with the help of some guys from youth group we got her unstuck. But mostly I knew her from Dairy Queen. When your worship facility sits directly behind the DQ, you tend to frequent the place a lot more than you would if it were located on the far end of town. We got to know each other by name and by my preference of Blizzard (usually, a Chocolate Extreme).

When she didn't return to work after Christmas and after several trips to the DQ, I asked what had become of Robin only to be informed that she did not work there any longer for reasons they didn't feel inclined to share. I don't recall when it was that I learned that she had cancer but my intention was to stop in from time to time if only to see how she was doing. Robin lived alone with her three cats. I don't know if she belonged to any fellowship but several years ago when we used to hold monthly healing services she had called to ask for prayer for her mother who was dying of cancer and living with her at the time. So that might have been an indicator of latent Christian faith or a cry for help.

About a month ago, her sister called the office asking if I knew of anyone who might cut her grass for her as she had become too weak to do it herself. As it turned out, I did know of someone who was available and drove over to her home to share with her that he would be coming shortly to cut her lawn. Her sister and a couple of nieces were there and while puffy from the steroids she was on, she seemed in fairly good spirits. I asked her if perhaps I might come back at another time to spend some time in prayer for her. She welcomed that and seemed to think that would be a great thing “once her company was gone.” In retrospect, I should have insisted on praying right then and there regardless if it had caused a temporary awkward moment with her relatives.

What pains me most now as I think of that lost opportunity is that right up until we left town, I passed her house every day as I traveled to and from my office. And every time I reminded myself how I needed to stop in and pray with her. But of course, every time something more pressing was on my radar screen and I would tell myself, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll stop in and visit Robin.” I certainly don't hold myself responsible for her death. Many people who get cancer do not recover from it despite all the prayers to the contrary. Everybody, in the end, dies of something. But I do regret that I considered 15 minutes of my time too valuable to spend on a neighbor who could have used the peace and comfort that visit would have afforded a lady who always treated me well when I ordered my ice cream.

Except my donkey is redder, bigger and faster

I'm not trying to belabor the point but I behaved like one of the priests in the Good Samaritan story. Here's a guy who's been mugged and left for dead but, as Jesus tells it, “luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road.” But instead of running to the man to help him in his affliction, when he determined he was a foreigner he “angled across to the other side” of the road (Luke 10:31, Msg) leaving him in his pitiful condition. Okay, I didn't avoid Robin because she wasn't a member of our fellowship or because of something in her life that I found personally reprehensible. I had plenty of good intentions but I just was too busy. At what? you ask. I'm sorry to say that a few weeks later I don't even remember. Most likely with nothing out of the ordinary except for whatever was on my agenda for that day. She could have used the company and heard the reading of Scripture during her last days on earth.

For her sake, I hope she rests with God. I hope her faith was in Jesus whatever the conduct of her life may have been. I will say this: she made good Blizzards and always provided polite service. I hope one day when the Kingdom comes in fullness, and if she's there and I'm there, that she'll forgive me for being in such a hurry to get nowhere in particular. And then maybe we could enjoy a Blizzard together on me.