CHOICES

I drove up to a small, white house with peeling paint and a very overgrown yard. In the front sat a big, old, broken-down car that looked like it had been there for thirty years.

I knocked on the door and eventually was greeted by an elderly woman who hesitantly invited me in. Since she was virtually deaf, she couldn’t hear her phone, so we, the home health staff, had to just drop by and hope we could bang loud enough for her to hear the door.

When I entered the house, I could not see any part of the floor. There were various things piled a couple of feet high in the entire living room. As I looked around, trying to find something positive to say, I noticed her Christmas tree. “What a pretty Christmas tree!” I commented, even though it was springtime. “I keep it up all year,” she replied.

She directed me to sit on the couch, which was covered with newspapers, mail, old store ads, and more. There was nowhere to sit. Sensing my thoughts, she went over and scooped up the pile on one end, pushing it to the side to make a place for me to sit. When she let go of the pile, it filled in the spot on the couch, just like when you try to dig a hole in sand.

I sat there anyway.

Her recliner was where she lived. There was a trail to the kitchen. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a bad smell. I didn’t see roaches or mice, but I knew they were there.

The most amazing thing was that this woman didn’t mind living this way. In an odd way, I think she found it comforting — like living in a big hug. An agency sent someone to help her every week. I’m not sure what they did other than try to keep the kitchen relatively clean. She wouldn’t let anyone help her clean up the house.

After talking with her for a while, I accepted that this is how she chose to live. She had relatives in the area that came to get her for holiday dinners. They were there if she needed them. But she didn’t want them to help her clean up her house.

Some people don’t understand how a person can be left to live like this. Even though she was in her late 90’s, she had enough of her mind to make her own decisions. Adult protective services knew her well. Every now and then someone would call and file a report on her, but the workers basically just went in and visited with her.

Jesus met people where they were in life. I’m not sure if there were hoarders in those days, but there were all kinds of people. From dishonest tax collectors, to prostitutes and beggars, he loved them all. He saw past the baggage, to see their hearts. That’s where his work was done.

As I looked at this woman, I accepted where she was in life. She had a kind heart. I wanted her to know that she was loved just as she was.