Miss Jean Dye Johnson

 

 

My Gideon Prayer

 

Have you ever prayed a prayer like this…”Lord I just don’t know what job you really want me to have.  I just don’t have any confidence in my own choosing.  Would you please just give me a Gideon experience, with out the sheep’s skin?  Just please bring me a job that you want me to have.  That way I will know it is from you.  I won’t go looking for one.  I will just wait on you.” …and then He answered it?  If you have, then you know all about those Holy Ghost goose bumps.

 

            I cried for over a week about quitting my job.  I kept asking myself, “What person in this economy quits a job”?  I am 53 years old, where I am going to find a job? Lord, what have I done to my family”?  As a believer I know that these kinds of questions can cause a spiritual spiral straight down to depression and I really didn’t want to go there again.  So I prayed.  Yes, I prayed that Gideon prayer.  And then I waited.  Nothing happened.  I waited again, and again nothing happened.  So I figured that God was telling me no.  “No, he was not going to answer another Gideon Prayer from this babbling child”.  Without an answer from God there was only one thing left for me to do.  Find one on my own.
 

        Days went by after I had decided to find a job on my own.  I was searching through the paper, for the second week in a row, crossing out every job listing that needed a specific skill that I didn’t have.  Nursing? No. Office Manager needed who was proficient in Access and QuickBooks? I could do a little but was far from proficient so no.  Insurance Agent? Nope, not for me.  I went through the whole paper this way, not a good thing for a delicate ego. I threw the paper down and decided to go out and work in the garden.  Anyway, wasn’t that what God told the His chosen people to do while they waited for the promise land?  Besides, I knew the scripture…God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
 

        So, there I was up to my elbows in dirt in my garden when my neighbor from across the street came by with a note.  She handed it to me while she explained that she had a missionary friend who needed someone to help with their aging mother who suffered from Alzheimer’s. The job would last for about a week and at the end of that time the family was expecting a young woman who was moving to the community to take over. Ok, stop the truck! I had so many goose bumps I had to go after a sweater. Not only did God answer my Gideon prayer, He got me a job taking care of an elderly missionary! I love the elderly!  I could set and listen to their stories for hours! I was elated!
 

        I started on a Tuesday.  I showed up to their house that morning.  They walked me through my responsibilities and then left for work.  Miss Jean’s room was right off the family room and had a big window that faced the back yard.  Its décor consisted of a hospital bed adorned with a soft comforter and a few fluffy pillows, a recliner that enabled her to stand up from sitting, a small table with two chairs, her TV, a small book shelf, and some interesting pictures of her and her family.  It was the master bedroom which meant that the bathroom was conveniently connected.
 

        Our routine was a simple one.  Each morning I was to help her out of bed into the bathroom.  There assist her as she dressed for the day, brushed her teeth, and fixed her hair.  Afterwards, I would guide her to the wheelchair and push it up to the table for breakfast.  Then off to the kitchen to round up some oatmeal and bananas.  When she was finished with breakfast I would clean up the table, and get her positioned into her recliner.  Then it was time for us to visit.  We had about an hour to two before it would be time to help her into bed for an afternoon nap.  Around noon one of the family members would then come to relieve me of my duties. I just want to say up front that it was a privilege and not a duty to be there with her. Of course, I would soon find out that I wasn’t really there for her.  She was there for me. 
 

        The first day I didn’t get much response from her, neither a smile nor a grunt.  She just seemed to float through the routine like a small child.  I couldn’t get her to make eye contact with me or respond to anything I said.  So I just began talking.  I told her all about myself.  I told her what my name was, where I lived, all about my husband and all about our kids and grandson.  I pretended that she understood.  For all we know she just might have.  Before long I was all talked out and it was time for her nap.  I closed the curtains, helped her into bed, gently closed the door, and sat at the kitchen table with my book.  I was reading Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend.  A friend had told me about it and then a couple of days later my sister told me about it so I took that as a omen from God that He wanted me to read it.  (I realized that I have boundary issues.  Part of why I quit my job)

 

 

        It was a very quite time. The only noise came from the birds around the complex.  After her daughter-in-law showed up I left.  All the way home I keep thinking about our one way conversation.  I wondered what it was that God wanted me to do.  Was it to ease the mind of my brother and sister in Christ?  Was it just simply to care for one of his precious children who had served him so mightily in the mission fields? I concluded it was both and was determined that I would do some research on Miss Jean and try to find a way to get her to communicate with me the next day. 
 

As I lay in bed that night I recalled the unusual picture sitting on her shelf beside the recliner.  It was of two young women; they where standing at what seemed to be the jungle edge and one of them was holding a monkey.  I knew they were friends from the look that they gave each other.  That picture captivated my thoughts to the point that I had to get up and do some research on the younger Miss Jean.  I rolled out of bed and headed for the computer.  I heard that she had written some books so my research started there.  I was determined to find out more about this frail bit of a woman. 

 

 

        Wednesday’s routine started out a little different.  One of the girls from the Division of Aging came by to help Miss Jean to a warm shower.  While she was bathing I sat and looked at the room through the eyes of a trained cultural anthropologist (what I had once hoped I would become). I studied the pictures, the books, and the devotional book by her bed.  The style of clothes she wore the music she had to listen to, and once again the pictures.  I recalled the information I had gathered on her the night before from some excerpts in her first book.  I was beginning to get a picture of the kind of woman she once was.  She was someone who helped blaze a missionary trail to tribal people’s she grew to love, a woman who had a kind of relationship with her Creator that I could not fathom.  Yes, God had something special in mind here and I was going to do my best to oblige him.
 

        When she was done with her shower it was time for her recliner.  The girl said her good-byes, and it was finally time for our visit.  I began to talk only to find that Miss Jean was too tired to listen.  She fell asleep and didn’t wake until it was time to lay down for her nap. I was sorely disappointed. 
 

Even though the work wasn’t hard, I was constantly worried about hurting her.  Her skin was very fragile and I didn’t want to bruise her when I was helping her from chair to bed. I also wished that I had been in better shape.  Over weight and over fifty wasn’t a good combination for lifting the elderly.  I tucked her in and decided to do some laundry.  Before long I was at the table again with my book.  I couldn’t help but wonder again why I was even there. 
 

        I determined that night that I would take along my CD player the next day so I could play the CD that was on her shelf.  I thought I would bring along some of mine own music too.  I thought that I would read some from my book, Boundaries, to her also hoping that she would like that. I thought I would ask her about those pictures. Who were the women in the jungle shot?  I bet it was her and maybe one of the other missionary women she was in the field with.  I would definitely show her the picture and see if she would respond.  That was my plan.
 

            Thursday came and I loaded my book, the CD player along with my music into the car and headed out to bless Miss Jean.  Now when I look back on that day I think about the verse, A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps, because nothing went as I had planned. 
 

I started realizing how different the morning was from the past two when she smiled at me upon arrival. She seemed to be talking to me with her eyes.  You know what I mean?  It was kind of like when you talk with a baby.  When you know, that they know what you are saying, but they just can’t talk back.  She was very attentive. I felt like she really knew who I was.  That she had remembered me from the days before. She stared right down into my soul and back.
 

She smiled all the way through the bathroom routine which got me thinking she might want to get out of the room for a bit so I rolled her into the kitchen and parked her at the front door.  Her family had hung humming bird feeders from the roof giving me the notion that she might enjoy watching the birds while I made her oatmeal and bananas.  All the way through breakfast she kept smiling.  Every once in a while she would be at the edge of being tickled about something then go back to a smile.  I was so excited that she was alert enough for the visit I had planned.  After breakfast it was time for the recliner and our visit. 
 

I started by showing her the picture, the one of her and her friend.  I asked her if she was on the mission field when it was taken.  Now what I have to tell you next will be very controversial.  There are some people who will baulk and say I am crazy.  Or that I was reading into the situation more than what it was.  But I know also that there will be some who will understand the spiritual depth of what happened.  Before I continue I want to share with you that eyes are mentioned 482 times in the Bible.   
 

Her eyes began expressing so much, first I could tell that the picture meant a lot to her and yes it was taken on the mission field. Then her eyes searched through my existence, down to the depths of my core and the One who lives inside of her, let her know, that He also lived inside of me.  God’s Holy Spirit welled up in both of us.  I knew she knew that I was a child of God.  Isn’t that incredible?  That she was concerned about my salvation even through her condition.  I took great comfort in knowing that we would have much more time together than just these few days.
 

I proceeded as plan and slip her CD in my player.  It was kind of a mixture of southern gospel and classical.  When a song came on that I knew I begin to sign it in ASL.  She watched me like a cultural anthropologist would watch a tribe or better said like a missionary would watch her tribe.  I knew from her books that she spoke several languages so I leaned over and teased her by asking if she knew this one.  She smiled from ear to ear.  My cup runneth over.  Literally, it ran right out of my eyes.  Her eyes filled with joy as she watched me sign and at that point I thanked God that I was able to bring her some happiness.
 

After her CD was finished I pulled out Selah from my collection and put it in.  I told her that they were missionary kids from Africa and that she would soon be able to tell how much they loved the Lord.  Her eyes spoke through the music.  I watched her take in the words and lay back in her chair as if she were lying back against the Lord Jesus.  It was one of those God appointed times in life that cannot be recreated with any amount of human effort.  It spoke hugely to my heart.
 

When the CD ended I picked up my book, Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend.  I started reading where I left off the day before while I was at the kitchen table.  They posed a question, “What areas of your life have too few limits?”  I laughed out loud and looked her in the eye and said, “God sure does have a sense of humor when He is trying to make a point.  I have been doing a Bible study, Beth Moore’s Breaking Free, and He just showed me the other night that I was making food an idol and now He is reminding me of that”.  She looked right at my tummy with a huge grin and a bit of a chuckle.  Do you know what a muffin looks like? Yep, you got the right image. That is why she was laughing.  I love her sense of humor.  I confirmed her glance with a pat on the fat which just tickled her further.  The Lord is so good.
 

There are times in my life when I have had one of those God appointed moments that I instantly become reflective.  At that moment, in the middle of our laughter, it was one of those times.  It was if I had Alzheimer’s myself.  I remember looking out the window and thinking about a comment that Miss Jean’s daughter-in-law had made to me about her.  She said that Miss Jean was so concerned about doing God’s will in her life that she asked Him once if it was o.k. to read the Reader’s Digest.  I can’t grasp that.  To have such a relationship with the Lord that every moment of the day you were searching for His will.  Even to read.  That was her walk and mine was to tear down the idle of food.  That instant I became aware of the meaning of a sermon I heard once.  The preacher said that there will come a time when we will realize all that God had planned for us.  It will be greater than our minds can obtain.  The mansions in Heaven overflow with blessing not received because of our little faith. 
 

Miss Jean was someone who had the determination to fully devote her life to Christ.  Because of that determination she was able to minister to me in spite of her thorn in the flesh.  As I told her how thankful I was to her for listening to me and speaking millions to my heart about our Lord she shuck her head slightly side to side as if to say, “It’s not me, it’s Him.”  That is why I was compelled to write this to whoever is willing to read it.  My desire is to show you how God worked through Miss Jean’s thorn in the flesh to teach me about a dedicated level of service.  How determining in your mind that you are going to serve him a 100% creates a disciple that never quits their job.  Not even at the end of their life.  Not even if they have Alzheimer’s.
 

The day ended like the past two with me helping Miss Jean into bed, closing the curtains, and returning to the kitchen table to read.  Friday came and went like the past three and I was driving away from that God appointed time reflecting back to my Gideon prayer and that Thursday spent with Miss Jean.  That day is one of those days that a Christian has that impacts them spiritually and changes their life forever.  I learned that a child of God is never to old or sick to speak loads to you using their eyes, to invest myself into people, to never give up reaching out to them for Christ, and that sharing simple joys with them can make my cup runneth over, literally.  

 

 

 

 

 

My Gideon Prayer

 

Have you ever prayed a prayer like this…”Lord I just don’t know what job you really want me to have.  I just don’t have any confidence in my own choosing.  Would you please just give me a Gideon experience, with out the sheep’s skin?  Just please bring me a job that you want me to have.  That way I will know it is from you.  I won’t go looking for one.  I will just wait on you.” …and then He answered it?  If you have, then you know all about those Holy Ghost goose bumps.

 

            I cried for over a week about quitting my job.  I kept asking myself, “What person in this economy quits a job”?  I am 53 years old, where I am going to find a job? Lord, what have I done to my family”?  As a believer I know that these kinds of questions can cause a spiritual spiral straight down to depression and I really didn’t want to go there again.  So I prayed.  Yes, I prayed that Gideon prayer.  And then I waited.  Nothing happened.  I waited again, and again nothing happened.  So I figured that God was telling me no.  “No, he was not going to answer another Gideon Prayer from this babbling child”.  Without an answer from God there was only one thing left for me to do.  Find one on my own.
 

        Days went by after I had decided to find a job on my own.  I was searching through the paper, for the second week in a row, crossing out every job listing that needed a specific skill that I didn’t have.  Nursing? No. Office Manager needed who was proficient in Access and QuickBooks? I could do a little but was far from proficient so no.  Insurance Agent? Nope, not for me.  I went through the whole paper this way, not a good thing for a delicate ego. I threw the paper down and decided to go out and work in the garden.  Anyway, wasn’t that what God told the His chosen people to do while they waited for the promise land?  Besides, I knew the scripture…God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
 

        So, there I was up to my elbows in dirt in my garden when my neighbor from across the street came by with a note.  She handed it to me while she explained that she had a missionary friend who needed someone to help with their aging mother who suffered from Alzheimer’s. The job would last for about a week and at the end of that time the family was expecting a young woman who was moving to the community to take over. Ok, stop the truck! I had so many goose bumps I had to go after a sweater. Not only did God answer my Gideon prayer, He got me a job taking care of an elderly missionary! I love the elderly!  I could set and listen to their stories for hours! I was elated!
 

        I started on a Tuesday.  I showed up to their house that morning.  They walked me through my responsibilities and then left for work.  Miss Jean’s room was right off the family room and had a big window that faced the back yard.  Its décor consisted of a hospital bed adorned with a soft comforter and a few fluffy pillows, a recliner that enabled her to stand up from sitting, a small table with two chairs, her TV, a small book shelf, and some interesting pictures of her and her family.  It was the master bedroom which meant that the bathroom was conveniently connected.
 

        Our routine was a simple one.  Each morning I was to help her out of bed into the bathroom.  There assist her as she dressed for the day, brushed her teeth, and fixed her hair.  Afterwards, I would guide her to the wheelchair and push it up to the table for breakfast.  Then off to the kitchen to round up some oatmeal and bananas.  When she was finished with breakfast I would clean up the table, and get her positioned into her recliner.  Then it was time for us to visit.  We had about an hour to two before it would be time to help her into bed for an afternoon nap.  Around noon one of the family members would then come to relieve me of my duties. I just want to say up front that it was a privilege and not a duty to be there with her. Of course, I would soon find out that I wasn’t really there for her.  She was there for me. 
 

        The first day I didn’t get much response from her, neither a smile nor a grunt.  She just seemed to float through the routine like a small child.  I couldn’t get her to make eye contact with me or respond to anything I said.  So I just began talking.  I told her all about myself.  I told her what my name was, where I lived, all about my husband and all about our kids and grandson.  I pretended that she understood.  For all we know she just might have.  Before long I was all talked out and it was time for her nap.  I closed the curtains, helped her into bed, gently closed the door, and sat at the kitchen table with my book.  I was reading Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend.  A friend had told me about it and then a couple of days later my sister told me about it so I took that as a omen from God that He wanted me to read it.  (I realized that I have boundary issues.  Part of why I quit my job)

 

 

        It was a very quite time. The only noise came from the birds around the complex.  After her daughter-in-law showed up I left.  All the way home I keep thinking about our one way conversation.  I wondered what it was that God wanted me to do.  Was it to ease the mind of my brother and sister in Christ?  Was it just simply to care for one of his precious children who had served him so mightily in the mission fields? I concluded it was both and was determined that I would do some research on Miss Jean and try to find a way to get her to communicate with me the next day. 
 

As I lay in bed that night I recalled the unusual picture sitting on her shelf beside the recliner.  It was of two young women; they where standing at what seemed to be the jungle edge and one of them was holding a monkey.  I knew they were friends from the look that they gave each other.  That picture captivated my thoughts to the point that I had to get up and do some research on the younger Miss Jean.  I rolled out of bed and headed for the computer.  I heard that she had written some books so my research started there.  I was determined to find out more about this frail bit of a woman. 

 

 

        Wednesday’s routine started out a little different.  One of the girls from the Division of Aging came by to help Miss Jean to a warm shower.  While she was bathing I sat and looked at the room through the eyes of a trained cultural anthropologist (what I had once hoped I would become). I studied the pictures, the books, and the devotional book by her bed.  The style of clothes she wore the music she had to listen to, and once again the pictures.  I recalled the information I had gathered on her the night before from some excerpts in her first book.  I was beginning to get a picture of the kind of woman she once was.  She was someone who helped blaze a missionary trail to tribal people’s she grew to love, a woman who had a kind of relationship with her Creator that I could not fathom.  Yes, God had something special in mind here and I was going to do my best to oblige him.
 

        When she was done with her shower it was time for her recliner.  The girl said her good-byes, and it was finally time for our visit.  I began to talk only to find that Miss Jean was too tired to listen.  She fell asleep and didn’t wake until it was time to lay down for her nap. I was sorely disappointed. 
 

Even though the work wasn’t hard, I was constantly worried about hurting her.  Her skin was very fragile and I didn’t want to bruise her when I was helping her from chair to bed. I also wished that I had been in better shape.  Over weight and over fifty wasn’t a good combination for lifting the elderly.  I tucked her in and decided to do some laundry.  Before long I was at the table again with my book.  I couldn’t help but wonder again why I was even there. 
 

        I determined that night that I would take along my CD player the next day so I could play the CD that was on her shelf.  I thought I would bring along some of mine own music too.  I thought that I would read some from my book, Boundaries, to her also hoping that she would like that. I thought I would ask her about those pictures. Who were the women in the jungle shot?  I bet it was her and maybe one of the other missionary women she was in the field with.  I would definitely show her the picture and see if she would respond.  That was my plan.
 

            Thursday came and I loaded my book, the CD player along with my music into the car and headed out to bless Miss Jean.  Now when I look back on that day I think about the verse, A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps, because nothing went as I had planned. 
 

I started realizing how different the morning was from the past two when she smiled at me upon arrival. She seemed to be talking to me with her eyes.  You know what I mean?  It was kind of like when you talk with a baby.  When you know, that they know what you are saying, but they just can’t talk back.  She was very attentive. I felt like she really knew who I was.  That she had remembered me from the days before. She stared right down into my soul and back.
 

She smiled all the way through the bathroom routine which got me thinking she might want to get out of the room for a bit so I rolled her into the kitchen and parked her at the front door.  Her family had hung humming bird feeders from the roof giving me the notion that she might enjoy watching the birds while I made her oatmeal and bananas.  All the way through breakfast she kept smiling.  Every once in a while she would be at the edge of being tickled about something then go back to a smile.  I was so excited that she was alert enough for the visit I had planned.  After breakfast it was time for the recliner and our visit. 
 

I started by showing her the picture, the one of her and her friend.  I asked her if she was on the mission field when it was taken.  Now what I have to tell you next will be very controversial.  There are some people who will baulk and say I am crazy.  Or that I was reading into the situation more than what it was.  But I know also that there will be some who will understand the spiritual depth of what happened.  Before I continue I want to share with you that eyes are mentioned 482 times in the Bible.   
 

Her eyes began expressing so much, first I could tell that the picture meant a lot to her and yes it was taken on the mission field. Then her eyes searched through my existence, down to the depths of my core and the One who lives inside of her, let her know, that He also lived inside of me.  God’s Holy Spirit welled up in both of us.  I knew she knew that I was a child of God.  Isn’t that incredible?  That she was concerned about my salvation even through her condition.  I took great comfort in knowing that we would have much more time together than just these few days.
 

I proceeded as plan and slip her CD in my player.  It was kind of a mixture of southern gospel and classical.  When a song came on that I knew I begin to sign it in ASL.  She watched me like a cultural anthropologist would watch a tribe or better said like a missionary would watch her tribe.  I knew from her books that she spoke several languages so I leaned over and teased her by asking if she knew this one.  She smiled from ear to ear.  My cup runneth over.  Literally, it ran right out of my eyes.  Her eyes filled with joy as she watched me sign and at that point I thanked God that I was able to bring her some happiness.
 

After her CD was finished I pulled out Selah from my collection and put it in.  I told her that they were missionary kids from Africa and that she would soon be able to tell how much they loved the Lord.  Her eyes spoke through the music.  I watched her take in the words and lay back in her chair as if she were lying back against the Lord Jesus.  It was one of those God appointed times in life that cannot be recreated with any amount of human effort.  It spoke hugely to my heart.
 

When the CD ended I picked up my book, Boundaries by Cloud and Townsend.  I started reading where I left off the day before while I was at the kitchen table.  They posed a question, “What areas of your life have too few limits?”  I laughed out loud and looked her in the eye and said, “God sure does have a sense of humor when He is trying to make a point.  I have been doing a Bible study, Beth Moore’s Breaking Free, and He just showed me the other night that I was making food an idol and now He is reminding me of that”.  She looked right at my tummy with a huge grin and a bit of a chuckle.  Do you know what a muffin looks like? Yep, you got the right image. That is why she was laughing.  I love her sense of humor.  I confirmed her glance with a pat on the fat which just tickled her further.  The Lord is so good.
 

There are times in my life when I have had one of those God appointed moments that I instantly become reflective.  At that moment, in the middle of our laughter, it was one of those times.  It was if I had Alzheimer’s myself.  I remember looking out the window and thinking about a comment that Miss Jean’s daughter-in-law had made to me about her.  She said that Miss Jean was so concerned about doing God’s will in her life that she asked Him once if it was o.k. to read the Reader’s Digest.  I can’t grasp that.  To have such a relationship with the Lord that every moment of the day you were searching for His will.  Even to read.  That was her walk and mine was to tear down the idle of food.  That instant I became aware of the meaning of a sermon I heard once.  The preacher said that there will come a time when we will realize all that God had planned for us.  It will be greater than our minds can obtain.  The mansions in Heaven overflow with blessing not received because of our little faith. 
 

Miss Jean was someone who had the determination to fully devote her life to Christ.  Because of that determination she was able to minister to me in spite of her thorn in the flesh.  As I told her how thankful I was to her for listening to me and speaking millions to my heart about our Lord she shuck her head slightly side to side as if to say, “It’s not me, it’s Him.”  That is why I was compelled to write this to whoever is willing to read it.  My desire is to show you how God worked through Miss Jean’s thorn in the flesh to teach me about a dedicated level of service.  How determining in your mind that you are going to serve him a 100% creates a disciple that never quits their job.  Not even at the end of their life.  Not even if they have Alzheimer’s.
 

The day ended like the past two with me helping Miss Jean into bed, closing the curtains, and returning to the kitchen table to read.  Friday came and went like the past three and I was driving away from that God appointed time reflecting back to my Gideon prayer and that Thursday spent with Miss Jean.  That day is one of those days that a Christian has that impacts them spiritually and changes their life forever.  I learned that a child of God is never to old or sick to speak loads to you using their eyes, to invest myself into people, to never give up reaching out to them for Christ, and that sharing simple joys with them can make my cup runneth over, literally.