Marge’s Care

“Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong.”

Acts 3:7

Marge had the heart of a child. She may have been forty years old, but she loved friendships with six- to ten-year-old kids. Marge had an intellectual disability that left her at about a fourth-grade reading level. But Marge knew how to love.

When kids gathered at the school playground, Marge would appear as if from out of nowhere. She must have been watching from the nursing home down the street where she lived as a young person with elderly people. Sadly, Marge’s mom had passed away when Marge was young, and her father was unable to care for her. The nursing home became Marge’s home. There, she found acceptance and unconditional love. Marge cared for the elderly by talking to them and helping them in whatever ways she could.

Marge never forgot anyone’s birthday. Her handmade cards with misspelled words went straight to the heart. When the school had sporting events, Marge could always be found in the crowd. Sometimes, she would block others’ view of the game, but if Marge didn’t show up, people would be concerned. “Where is she?” they would ask.“Is she okay?”

My parents always stopped to pick up Marge and take her to church with us. I must admit that, as a child, I was not excited about riding to church with Marge in our back seat. But when I became a teenager, I realized how important it was that we support Marge and make a place for her at our church. My parents and I felt a little like Peter when he walked the lame man into the temple for the first time:

“Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.”

Acts 3:8

Marge expressed this exuberant joy every Sunday as she walked into our church.

One day, though, Marge didn’t need a ride to church. I asked Marge’s family members where she was. They reported with deep sadness Marge had developed cancer and did not have long to live. Days later came the news that Marge had gone to be with the Lord. I felt a deep sense of loss. I loved seeing Marge in church, where she was always glad to see me. That was her way of caring.

Months passed, and I came across a birthday card from Marge I had not opened. When I did, I found Marge’s perfectly spelled note: “Dave, you are my best friend.” It was then I realized that although we cared for Marge, Marge had also cared for us. I thank God for Marge’s care. And I miss it.

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This devotional is excerpted from a new Joni and Friends ministry resource called Care for the Caregiver, a collection of devotionals written by caregivers and for caregivers, available here.