Back in Sunday School we learned third person prayers.
We talked about God,
like He wasn’t there,
or wasn’t listening,
or wasn’t invited
to the conversation.

So He

Wasn’t.

I was fresh out of seminary, doing my Monday nursing home visits. Like always.

Like always, I sat in my unkempt car under an oak tree in the manicured parking lot.

And took a deep breath.
And another one, this one more like a sigh.
And tried to fix the awkward knot in my polyester TJ Maxx tie.
And grabbed a fresh copy of that month’s Daily Word from the stack on the passenger seat.
And headed through the heat into the air conditioned lobby, through the lobby to the reception desk.
And a receptionist with worn out comfortable shoes gave me a worn out comforting smile.
And checked my ID and wrote my weird name in a careful hand on a name tag sticker.
And handed it to me.

I could never get those on straight.

“He’s in room 14b, but he’s not in his room. He’s over there, with his family.”

The receptionist pointed but did not look.
I followed her finger across the room to a mismatched sofa and chairs
And a frail man in an unreclined Barcalounger. Feet flat on floor, gripping the armrests, watching a family, his family, talk to each other.
They were mismatched too.

Two sets of parents, I thought, and maybe an unattached uncle? Three kids playing on the floor. Coloring books and crayons and Hot Wheels.
The frail man watched them all like they were in a behavioral study and he was a scientist in a white coat behind a one-way mirror. His expression was alive. Curious, interested, but uninvolved.

Uninvited.

I did not recognize their expressions until years later, when I’d left the ministry and went to work in a labyrinth of cubicles and clock-watchers.

“What do you want to do with Pop?”

I interrupted the presumptive uncle to introduce myself. I felt as welcome a drop of water in the living room, introducing the possibility of an overflowing toilet upstairs.

I was uninvited, too.

I leaned against the armrest and looked Pop in his amused eyes. Handed him the Daily Word and told him I’d call on him later. He grabbed my Daily Word hand in an awkward crumpled handshake and just said “thank you so much” before returning to his research.

It is so much later now. I should call on Him.