This week I listened to someone who shared a first hand account of what crisis pregnancy centres deal with every day. It broke my heart.
Without going into detail because of privacy--and I already knew this--CPCs and the people who work there are truly nothing like what the radical-hate-crisis-pregnancy-centre crowd will tell you. They are the most amazing loving caring compassionate people I have ever met. Each and every one of them. And I thank God they exist. Because I could not do that work.
But what I can tell you is this. The women who come to visit CPCs, and the people who work there need our prayers and our support, and especially lots of prayers.
What I am able to do, by the grace of God, is to go on my weekly visit to the nursing home where my sister Maureen and I volunteer every week. Even though some days I don't want to go. Like this week. I almost turned around and went home again. But I didn't and I'm glad I stayed.
One of the women who I've visited for the past three years passed away this week. She was a dear woman; nearly totally deaf; always in pain from sitting too long in her chair; who always loved when I or my sister would visit her. I would usually say a prayer with her and she was always thankful for this too.
After hearing this sad news, things looked up when Maureen and I took three residents outside to sit in the sun, to sing a few songs, and wear silly hats, and, this is the best part, laugh.
Maureen actually got one of the three who at first wasn't in a laughing mood, to laugh. And she LOVED her hat. That made my day.
There is such a need for volunteers to visit nursing homes. There are so many people there who don't get visitors. Who are alone. Who appreciate wearing a silly hat. Or saying a prayer. Or just someone to listen to them. Or to hold their hand.
It's really a blessing that I can go.