Jane lay on the sofa, looking through the window at the clouds drifting lazily across the sky. It was a lovely sunny day. If only she had the energy to walk to the nearby park where she could sit in the sun.
When she was well, she made a point of stacking her freezer with pre-cooked meals, but she had been ill for long enough now to have used up her store.
A neighbour had kindly shopped for her, but she still needed to cook. She sighed. It was difficult for people with normal health to realise just how tired she could get doing so little.
They often talked of how ‘lucky’ she was not having to work and so having lots of spare time — forgetting that the reason she did not work was because she needed to spend so much time resting!
‘You can always pray, dear. That’s the best thing anyone can do.’ Her Christian friend would try to encourage her when she was feeling particularly useless — forgetting that to pray at any depth one needed to be able to concentrate. Something she was often unable to manage.
And to pray one needed up-to-date information. She tried to set aside time to pray for her church each day, but it was five weeks now since she had been fit enough to get there, so she felt uncertain of the present prayer-needs.
Some folk from the church had phoned her but most had wanted to talk about their problems. One had even asked her to help with the service that Sunday. No-one had shared any news or shown any desire to know how she was. If she admitted she was ill there was little concern.
They were used to the fact that ‘Jane is always ill’. Acute illness lasting a few weeks would evoke a response. Chronic illness created little interest. She was left alone to cope with the steady deterioration of health and the many resultant problems.
Smile weakly
‘We’re so glad you’ve got a brother to help you’ was another comment she got regularly. ‘He must be a great support.’ She had learnt to smile weakly at such comments and say nothing.
Her brother, busy jet-setting around the world, had no time for her. She was lucky if she saw him five times a year. Why did people always assume that there must be ‘someone’ other than them that you could turn to? Surely she was not the only invalid who had no caring family to support her?
She stared at the phone, willing it to ring. It was three days now since she had spoken to anyone. She could phone somebody, but most people were so busy with work or family or friends that she felt too uncomfortable to bother them.
It was so difficult for those surrounded by people all day to imagine what it was like to see no-one, or to realise the benefit a five- minute phone call could bring.
A big nuisance
She used to be a member of a home group which met at her flat, whether or not she was well enough to join them. What a blessing that guaranteed weekly time of fellowship had been, even on the days she could spend only 15 minutes with them.
It had kept her up to date on news and made her feel a part of things. But after a re-organisation she had not been put in another group. ‘You’d be too much of a nuisance to them,’ the organiser had explained. ‘Your illness is your problem. Don’t bother me with it.’
Constant pleading had eventually got her into a group which was willing to move its meeting to her flat. But after a few weeks they had decided to move back to their original meeting place.
‘It’s too much effort for you getting the drinks for us all’ they had insisted, ignoring the obvious solution that they could get their own drinks.
When she did get to church she knew she would be swamped with people telling her how much they had missed her. If only they could realise that it was when she could not get to church that she most needed support.
Others insisted that they prayed regularly for her but with no practical action coming from their prayers she found it difficult to accept their sincerity.
She thought of the prayers she had had prayed for her. Most of them asked God to forgive her either for being ill in the first place or for not having been healed.
Was a baby born with a defective body really guilty of that? Did healing depend only on the faith of the one ill, or did it also involve the attitude of those praying?
What a blessing it was when the occasional person was prepared to stand alongside her in prayer, sharing her pain.
Useless passenger
‘I resent your illness. It impinges on my freedom.’ That sentence was burned into her memory. Only one person had said it —- but how many had thought it?
She had joined a committee where her specialist knowledge could have been a great help. However, to guarantee her presence, the committee had to meet at her flat. That concession to her need had been too much for one of the other members and Jane had had to resign.
A friend had put her on the coffee rota as an extra pair of hands some weeks. It had been good to join in when she was well enough. It gave her a feeling that she still had a part to play and was not quite the useless passenger she so often felt herself.
But when her friend left, and someone else took over the rota, they had decided that it was too much effort to include her.
Of course there were those who cared — but why were they always the busiest people? Perhaps if her illness were more obvious, if she looked ill it would be different.
‘We’re going out for supper on Saturday. We’d like to ask you, but we’ve got to go late so Bill can join us’ was another typical comment. Why, oh why, if they could go out late for Bill’s sake could they not go early sometimes for Jane?
What about having a take-away at her flat so she could join in for as long as she was able? ‘We’d like to invite you, but know you couldn’t afford it.’ They were right. Trying to make ends meet was a constant struggle to manage even the basic essentials.
Holidays and days out were impossibly expensive luxuries. How nice it would be if someone sometime would think of treating her. How special she had felt when one friend treated her to a haircut last Christmas.
Little sacrifice
Of course she knew she was not the only one with such problems. When the church had held a supper at £5 a head she was not the only one unable to afford a ticket. A single-parent friend also had a very restricted social life.
There were several church members permanently house-bound, whereas she could get to the occasional service — but being one of many did not make it any easier.
If only those without handicaps could realise how blessed they were, how much they had been given. If only they would be prepared to take time from their busy lives to consider the needs of those around them who were not so fortunate.
There was plenty that could be done to make a real difference to another’s life with little or no sacrifice to themselves if they would only stop and think, try to empathise for a few moments.
What would Jesus want in the situation? Was it really his will that one of the conditions of Christian fellowship was physical health? Did he not say something about ‘I was sick and you . . .’
The telephone ringing interrupted her thoughts. Eagerly she reached out to answer it. It was a wrong number.
How special she had felt when one friend treated her to a haircut