He always wore bibbed overalls. Everyday, including on Sundays to church. He always looked comfortable. He had a great speaking voice. Deep and clear and just the right volume. When I visited with him, he would often have his hands in his pockets and kind of bounce on his feet as he spoke. It was like he was always doing a little happy dance. That’s why I was shocked when suddenly he needed to have both legs amputated.
In the hospital, prior to the surgery, Jack pulled the sheet up to show me his swollen purple feet. It was then I learned that he had battled circulation problems in his legs for many years. I thought maybe the happy dance wasn’t happy at all. Maybe it was an attempt to get the blood flowing to his feet.
As we talked about the surgery, which was going to take place as soon as the doctor was prepared and everything prepped, he informed me that he knew this would happen one day. He said the doctor sadly told him that both legs had to be removed or else he would be dead in a couple of days. Jack encouraged the doctor by telling him, “Let’s get this done as quickly as possible.”
Surely the doctor did not relish going forward with the surgery even though he knew it would extend Jacks life on earth. However, Jack’s attitude must have given the doctor some encouragement as it did for me as I prayed with him.
The weeks ahead were difficult to say the least. After his recovery in the hospital, Jack was moved to a rehab center where he began physical therapy. He always seemed to be a fairly strong man, but for a man in his mid 70’s the workouts were brutal. Before he could go home, Jack had to build his upper body strength in order to maneuver himself in and out of his bed or his wheelchair. The workouts included one-on-one daily training times with a physical therapist, plus working out by doing pull ups with a contraption mounted above his bed.
On my visits to the rehab center, I was always impressed with Jack’s positive attitude. I remember one day when I stopped by his room he wasn’t there. I found him in the physical therapy room going through the training routine with his therapist. There he was, sitting up on a workout table with the therapist next to him assisting and making sure he did the proper exercises. When Jack saw me he waved and with his deep, easy to hear voice yelled “Hello Pastor!”. He made me feel welcome in the therapy room even if maybe I wan’t supposed to be in there interfering. As I visited with him, Jack would hold up his hand to pause our conversation whenever another patient was being wheeled into the room. Then he’d address that patient’s arrival with a friendly wave and shout “Good morning! How are you doing today?”
One day when I stopped in to see Jack, I found him in his room but he wasn’t his normal self. When I came in, I didn’t receive the usual upbeat greeting. On that day he seemed very depressed. No smile. No joy. No positive attitude at all. He then confessed to me that he had about had it and he was ready to give up. Who could blame him? Every time I saw him it ran through my mind how I didn’t think I could do what he was doing.
There’s been many times that I’ve been with people who are in dire straits. They’re looking to me to say the right things. I’ve always wanted to speak words of comfort and wisdom, but I often struggle to find those phrases. Generally, it’s just the usual stuff. “Trust the Lord” and “I’ll be praying for you.” But on this day the Lord gave me exactly the right words to say.
“Jack, you need to keeping pushing yourself to get out of here as soon as possible because I have a job waiting for you at the church.” Jack opened his eyes wide with surprise. Pointing at himself and questioning what I said in disbelief, “You have a job for me?” he asked. I said “Yes. I need you to be my greeter at the church services on Sunday morning.” I went on to explain how I had watched him enthusiastically greet people in the therapy room and that he had a great voice and an even greater attitude. I said, “You need to hurry up and get out of here, so I can put you to work.”
It wasn’t too long after that Jack and his wife showed up early for the church service with a wheelchair lift attached to their van. He could hardly wait to begin his new assignment. Wearing his bibbed overalls, while seated in his wheelchair, he cheerfully welcomed every single person who passed through the doors with a booming “Good morning. Welcome. It’s good to see you today.” Of course, those who already knew him, were thrilled to see him back. Those who were new since his surgery were extremely pleased at being welcomed so warmly. It became a 5-win occurrence every Sunday morning! It was a win for Jack. It was a win for the individual worshippers. It was a win for the church. It was a win for me. It was a win for the Lord.
I can hardly put into words how effective Jack was at the church door. He took the greeter position very, very seriously. I always try to greet everyone just outside the doors as they exit the services. Jack would position himself in his wheelchair just on my right side. He didn’t just welcome people when they arrived. He made sure he greeted them every week on their way out! “It was great seeing you this morning! I hope you have a wonderful week. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you next Sunday!”
Jack is running around Heaven now. His wife moved away to be closer to family. But I’ll never forget his amazing example. He was the epitome of the saying “I cried because I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet.”
Too often there are those who have decided they are incapable of doing anything except allowing others to wait on them. Jesus said even the Son of Man didn’t come to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45).
Let me know what you can’t do. I’ll show you what you can do. And I might share a story with you about a guy named Jack.
