The Park Bench

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The two old friends met most mornings at the park entrance.  They would slowly wander the path which led along the east side of the pond until they came to a wooden bench they considered their own.  They had each reached the age of seventy-nine in the past six months.  Elmer Benson was a widower, having lost his wife three years ago.  Paul Hagerty’s wife had been placed in a convalescent home a year ago with late stage Alzheimer’s.

They both took a seat on the bench and watched a pair of ducks swim along the pond’s edge.  A young boy and a middle-aged man stopped to view the waterfowl.

“I stopped by the home yesterday afternoon,” Paul said.

“Don’t you most days?” Elmer asked, knowing his friend suffered the pain of visiting his wife daily.

“She hasn’t known who I am now for nearly three months.  For a while she would seem to come and go.  My heart aches for her to come back one more time.”

“Your Alice is a good soul,” Elmer offered.

“So why does she need to go on like this?”

“You know when my Mary was first diagnosed with cancer I cursed God.  I saw my entire life as a hopeless charade, believing in an entity that harbored such cruelty.  But Mary brought me back.  She was suffering and dying and yet, her deepest concern was for my soul.  In her suffering I saw the Lord and from that moment on I prayed for His will to be done… nothing more… just His will.”

“But I don’t see the reason,” Paul said softly, face toward the ground.

“In this life we won’t.  As children we are told things by our parents that we don’t understand.  We are told not to cross the street and we become angry because we want to go where we want.  When we become older we come to understand that crossing the street wasn’t safe for us.  This is how it is with the Father.  In this life we don’t understand His will.  We are children… infants in a way, told not to cross the street and always wanting to.  There is pain and suffering in this life.  But maybe, if there is no pain, there can be no joy.”

“I don’t understand what sickness has to do with simply crossing a street,” Paul said as he watched the young boy at the water’s edge. 

“We want things much more complex, than simply crossing the street, of our God.  We pray for healing… or death… and His answer doesn’t come as we wish it would.  I pray to understand His will, knowing that in this life I may not be capable.”

The ducks swam out into deeper water.  The boy and the middle-aged man moved along the path talking about their afternoon plans.

“I feel like a selfish man,” Paul said. “My Alice is still alive.  Sometimes she laughs at nothing and I have to chuckle.  In those moments my heart is warmed… despite its sadness.  At least I have that.  I hurt for her and I don’t understand God’s will in the least.”

Elmer wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulder and whispered. “We will struggle together to find peace in the will of our God… and that will become our joy.”



copyright 2020 - Donald P James Jr


https://www.amazon.com/House-Pharisees-Other-Conflicts-Faith/dp/B088N93KKV


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