Floyd

Please don't hate me. I'm afraid that if I tell you what I did this morning you'll think me the worst example of a human being ever. Worse than a telemarketer or an IRS agent – maybe even worse than president of an insurance company (is that even possible?). This morning I made an old man cry.
I had breakfast with Floyd, a young man who is 87 years old. Before you react to the oxymoron in that sentence let me assure you that it's no mistake: his body may be 87 and in a semi-constant state of pain and misery, but his passion and his will remain far more than just an echo of his youth. He is a minister of the Gospel and has served his Lord faithfully for decades in churches both large and small. Now he finds himself preaching and ministering to a tiny little group of people out in the middle of Nowhere Eastern, WA in a church that looks to be straight off a Hallmark card - and, to be honest, he's somewhat frustrated. His frustration stems from the fact that he knows there is still so much he can do for God's Kingdom – but he knows that time is against him – and every morning his body renews its rebellion.
As I sat and listened to his undiminished passion I felt the Holy Spirit speak to me: This is what it can look like, you know. A life lived fully in service to Christ doesn't ever really end. In my best multi-tasking fashion I tried to listen to Floyd's conversation while also holding a silent conversation with the Holy Spirit.
Me: "How so? Clearly, he can't have too many years remaining."
     Are you so sure that life lived fully in service to Christ has an ending point?
Me: "I was…until You asked that. Go ahead, I'll shut up."
     What is he doing right now?
Me: "Sharing his passion and frustration with me."
     Is that all he's doing? Could his words right now have a larger purpose?
Me: "How so?"
     Palge mayim.

Now, let me interject an explanation at this point. One of my favorite passages in Scripture is found in Psalm 1.1-3,
"Blessed are those who do not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers,
but who delight in the Law of the Lord and meditate on His law day and night.
They are like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither – whatever they do prospers."

The Hebrew transliteration for "streams of water" is palge mayim. Here's another one of those instances, however, where the English language fails to convey the full meaning (that's a whole different Soapbox of mine for another time). Palge mayim means far more than just streams of water – conjuring up the image of a babbling brook, meandering through a pasture, gently feeding the roots of the tree that finds itself lucky enough to have sprouted next to such a convenient source of nutrition. Palge mayim is more closely translated as irrigation channels. Think about the difference between a stream and an irrigation channel: streams happen wherever the topography allows (combination of gravity and softened dirt or shapeable stone, forced upon by a supply of water); irrigation channels are cut into the earth in the exact spot that they are wanted. A stream feeds the roots of the tree more by accident than anything else – fortunate tree! The sole purpose of an irrigation channel is to supply the life-giving water to the tree or crops. There is nothing accidental about an irrigation channel - it was placed where it was for the purpose of feeding the tree. Now reread those verses of Psalm 1 with that understanding.


Let's get back to my conversation with the Holy Spirit:
Me: "Palge mayim. I love that truth."
    He is acting like a palge mayim to you. He isn't just sharing his passion and frustration to get it off his chest. He's feeding your roots.
Me: "Ohhh"
    He's sharing his life lived fully in service to Christ with you – that's the "water" he has to share.
Me: "Ohhh" (Yes, I usually interject such brilliant responses to the Holy Spirit.)
    Will you plant yourself next to him so that he may feed you?
Me: "Are you kidding? That's why I love meeting with him."
    Then tell him what I've just told you.


Don't you just love it when the Holy Spirit demands instantaneous action on a newly-taught insight? Me neither – but I obeyed. I opened my Bible (OK, actually it was a Bible app on my smartphone) and shared with Floyd my understanding of that passage in Psalm 1. I highlighted in my explanation the intentionality displayed by the one who carved out the irrigation channel so that the tree could be fully fed and remain vitally alive and fruitful (prosperous!). I made sure to mention that it was no accident that the irrigation channel and the tree were in the same place together – that this was the intent all along. I felt a little sheepish "instructing" Floyd on a passage of Scripture he's probably preached and taught several thousand times more than I've even read it, but I needed to be certain that he caught the weight of that passage before I proceeded. Then I paused (giving the Rapture a chance to relieve me of what I knew I was supposed to say next).

"Floyd, you may not have the largest congregation around, and there may not be a whole lot of obvious fruit in your ministry right now. But you are a palge mayim for me. You may feel like the best years of your ministry are behind you, but I need to learn from your wisdom and experience. You are far from finished."

You gotta believe me, please: I don't normally enjoy making old men cry – but today I think it was worth it – not to mention I got seriously watered at a moment when I needed it most.