Breaking Bread

2006

Last week the welcoming committee from the Living Water Church brought my father some home made bread and grape jam. They rang the door bell and the dogs went crazy. Every time the door bell rings the dogs go into a running and barking frenzee. It is usually impossible for me to open the door with out them escaping and frightening the life out of the visitor. Needless to say I was unable to coral the dogs, so I went out through the garage and met up with the couple as they were walking back to their car in the driveway. A husband and wife team. Very nice people. In fact they had already been to our house once, when Lee first moved in. They also greeted him with bread and jam. I remember Lee saying that they were very welcoming and friendly. He visited with them for quite a while and they were helpful with questions that he had about the area. They ask how my husband is doing and they ask about Ray Mopkis, who is also listed at this address. I tell them that my father is now living with us. I am uncomfortable inviting them in, because I am never sure how my father will respond. I explain that my father is elderly and in the middle of dinner, but they can come back at a different time. They leave the bread and jam along with a letter inviting him to church.

I go back in the house and hand my father the letter. I leave the bread and jam on the counter. I tell him that people from the church down the street have invited him to church. It is the church with the pond in front. My father has never been a church going person. He has no use for praying, and no need of God because he can take care of himself. My mother was quite active in the church when she was alive and tried for years to get my father to go to church with her. He would always snicker and say "There's no God damn parking there Cris, how the hell do you expect me do drive my car up there and get stuck waiting for those women to stop gabbing and get the hell out of the way so I can leave!?" We also invite him to church with us every week but he is always too busy. I expect him to throw the letter in the garbage without even reading it. To my surprise, he reads the letter. He has some bread and jam. He says they really know how to make a good loaf of bread.

When Lee gets home from work my father pulls the letter out of his shirt pocket and hands it to him. "Read this. These people want ME to come to their church. They sure make good bread." Lee reads the letter and tells Dad that he has met the greeters before and they are nice people. Dad wants to know if they invited Lee to their church and if he got any of the bread. Lee tells him yes. My father carries the letter with him every day. It has earned a spot in his shirt breast pocket where he carries his most valued possessions. (Usually his valium and a flashlight) At least once a day he removes it, carefully unfolds it and reads it from beginning to end. When he is finished he places it tenderly back in the envelope and back into his shirt pocket.

I am scheduled to pick up some furniture on Sunday morning and ask my father if we can use his truck. He says he doesn't think so because he is going to church. I tell him that we can drop him off, or he could go to a different service, perhaps the early service. He says he doesn't think so. This is a man who has never willingly attended a church service in his life and suddenly it is incredibly important that he attend THIS Sunday at the same time we need to use his vehicle. I cook all his meals, wash all his laundry, clean his apartment, and he will not let me use his truck for one hour. I talk to my husband and he says he will take care of it.

I sit and think about the situation. Maybe this is the Lord's work here. Maybe this will be the best thing that ever happened to my father. Suddenly I am guilt ridden. I have been entirely selfish. This may be my father's salvation! What kind of person have I turned into? I am filled with shame and say a small prayer to ask for forgiveness. I tell my father that I think it is wonderful that he wants to go to church. I tell him that I will schedule another day to pick up the furniture, what ever day is best for him. He says "Good, because I don't want to go another week without that bread, you think they got some more over there?" I leave the room speechless.

Lee convinces my father to let us use his truck. Dad wasn't upset. He was thrilled at going along for the ride. He tried to hit on the woman we bought the furniture from. She is a young woman, a Delta pilot who was recently divorced. As she is telling us her current situation my father interrupts and asks, "Hey you wanna go out to dinner sometime?" She smiles at me and politely declines. When we are ready to leave, he picks her up off the floor and hugs her goodbye. Naturally I have to pull him away from her and then apologize for his behavior. Fortunately she is not offended.

The following Sunday after breakfast Dad is headed out the door for church. It is 9:00 am. I am sure he will be back within thirty minutes. To my surprise he isn't. At 10:15 he comes flying through the door. I ask him how church was. "Well I park right in front so I don't have to walk too far. They got good parking there too, special spots for visitors. I go in and there's only about two or three women. They call that singing? Jesus these people can't carry a tune! But I sit there and I listen, then a few more come in and they try singin. It is awful!! They don't stop! So I try askin them what time it is, so they will stop that singing, but they just smile and keep right on! I sat there as long as I could take it. Finally I say - to hell with this, I don't see any bread around, I'm leaving! When I leave there is a good looking woman walking in. I mean with the make up and everything - I think it was Sammy Day!" I look at my father, Lee is in the other room smiling. "Sammy Day? Dad, who is Sammy Day?" "Oh you know that Baker woman Sammy Day Baker!" I look at him, "You mean Tammy Faye?" "Yeah what ever her name is. Anyway, I got no bread."