Buying a big 1 gallon can of applesauce seemed like a good idea at the time. To the 4 of us guys all living together in a staff house in Walworth, it seemed to be the very best grocery purchase we could make at 10 pm that night. We all liked applesauce. Arriving back home with the eager anticipation of sweet gluttony, it dawned on us that we did not own a can opener of any kind. Undeterred by such a minor obstacle, we rapidly began stabbing, poking and tearing at the lid. As the lid began to yield, one of us grabbed it firmly to yank it off. The lid, at this point, much more stubborn than the hand, managed to deliver a deep and sizeable slice to one’s palm (Yes. That would be my palm). Did we have any bandages, or antiseptic, or band-aids? Come on…we didn’t even have a can opener.
So, sometime around midnight, we did the only reasonable thing for this type of emergency. We called Mary Jane. After driving over to her house, she carefully bandaged my hand with a light scolding and rolling of her eyes. I still have the scar.
Mary Jane Birdsall taught countless Bible studies to hundreds of people over the years, but the images I remember are of her bandaging my hand or making me a sandwich while I sat at her kitchen table.
Why is this important?
Mary Jane did more than deliver Biblical information, she taught me the value of knowing God. She taught the Bible with an unapologetic directness and conviction that was contagious. But above all, her heart burned for people. She invested hours and hours in the lives of people most of us considered hopeless. It was not in her to give up on someone, even when they had already given up on themselves.
My conversations with her left me encouraged and challenged. Of all the things I’ve heard her say in the nearly 40 years I’ve known her, much of it was wise and some even profound. Nevertheless, it was not what she said, but who she was and the life she lived that impacted me.
So you see, the point is: It’s not just that she bandaged my hand in the middle of the night – It’s that she was the person I knew I could call when I needed help… day or night.
Can that be said of you or of me?
Thank you Mary Jane for doing more than saying it – but for living it.
3 comments:
Hey, Scott. I severed a tendon in my left hand in 1998. A rooster, a hatchet and a long story later, who ya gonna call?
Yeah, you guessed right. MJ drove me to the hospital.
Knowing Mary Jane, you know there are lots of tales to tell, but here's just one more....
When I was in labor with David, we had to race to the hospital for an emergency Cesarean om the middle of the night, leaving eight children, ages 1-12 home alone.
As we went out the door, I had Heather call Mary Jane, knowing two things. 1) MJ was the friend who *most wanted* to be there to help, to sit up with the older children and pray with them. 2) MJ was the only friend who would certainly be awake at 1 am. The night was young yet.
Valerie, oh yeah, I remember your hand injury.
Also, so right about who would be awake at 1 am.
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