The Woman at the Church Door

If you came to our church, there is a good chance you would meet Mary before you even made it through the door.

Mary is tiny, about 4 feet 10 inches tall and slightly built, but there is nothing small about her presence.

She has one of the biggest smiles and kindest faces you could imagine. She greets everyone with the kind of smile that makes you feel she is genuinely happy you came.

Mary is also a prayer warrior.

She is always thinking about other people, always giving, and rarely asking for anything for herself. She often brings me articles she has found in different magazines because she thinks I might enjoy them or find the information useful.

Even when Mary is hurting, you may never know it.

I've seen her wearing lidocaine patches on her neck, but I don't remember hearing her complain about the pain.

That's Mary.

She has a way of brushing aside her own struggles as though they aren't important enough to mention.

One day, Mary and I were talking about food.

It wasn't a planned conversation about diabetes. We were simply talking when she mentioned that she had diabetes and was having trouble keeping her blood sugar and A1C under control.

So I listened and began asking her about the foods she normally ate.

Mary is a vegetarian, as are many Seventh-day Adventists. As we talked about her meals, I explained that foods can be nutritious and still contain a significant amount of carbohydrates. With diabetes, sometimes it isn't simply about whether a food is "healthy" or "unhealthy." The amount of carbohydrate in a meal, and what we eat along with it, can affect blood sugar.

I suggested that she try reducing some of the carbohydrates in her meals and adding more non-starchy vegetables.I also encouraged her to keep her primary care provider informed. Changes in carbohydrate intake can sometimes lead to lower blood sugars or require adjustments to diabetes medications.

Then our conversation ended.

There was no complicated program or dramatic moment.

Just two women at church talking about food.

A Few Weeks Later

A few weeks later, Mary came to me with that big smile.

She told me she had made the changes we had talked about. She had cut back on some of the carbohydrates and increased her vegetables.

She felt better.

And her blood sugar numbers were better too.

But Mary wasn't interested in taking the credit.

She praised God.

Now when she sees me, she hugs me and tells me how blessed she is. She thanks God for putting me in her path when she needed some help.

And if you know Mary, you know she doesn't praise God quietly.

She wants everyone to know:

God is faithful in all ways.

I know that I didn't control Mary's diabetes for her. Mary made the changes. She paid attention to what she was eating. She took responsibility for her health and continued working with her medical care.

I simply shared some knowledge I had when the opportunity presented itself.

Mary sees something more in that ordinary conversation.

She sees God's faithfulness.

And perhaps that is the bigger lesson.

Who Notices the Person Who Notices Everyone Else?

Mary is a giver.

She stands at the door and welcomes others.

She prays for others.

She thinks about others.

She finds an interesting article and thinks of someone who might enjoy reading it.

She can be hurting herself and still greet you with that enormous smile.

People like Mary can be easy to overlook—not because nobody cares about them, but because they rarely make their own problems the center of attention.

If diabetes hadn't happened to come up during our conversation that day, I might never have known she was struggling with it.

It makes me wonder how many "Marys" we have around us.

The person who always asks how you're doing before you have a chance to ask about them.

The person who is always giving.

The person who keeps smiling even when something hurts.

The person who says, "I'm fine," and quickly turns the conversation back to you.

Maybe every once in a while, instead of accepting that smile and moving on, we need to look a little closer and ask:

"How are you really doing?"

And then take the time to listen to the answer.

God Can Use an Ordinary Conversation

Sometimes we look for God's answers in big things.

We pray for a problem to disappear. We wait for a dramatic change. We hope for something unmistakable to happen.

But God's care can also appear in much quieter ways.

A conversation.

A question.

A piece of knowledge someone else happens to have.

A doctor who listens.

A friend who notices.

Someone who takes the time to look beyond the smile and ask, "How are you really doing?"

We may not recognize those moments as important when they're happening.

I certainly didn't think an ordinary conversation about food would mean so much to Mary.

But a few weeks later, a little woman with a huge smile wrapped her arms around me and reminded me:

God is faithful in all ways.

Mary believes God placed me there to help her that day.

But I think God used Mary to remind me of something too.

Sometimes we are so busy looking for the big answers to prayer that we miss the small ways God is already working around us.

A conversation.

A little encouragement.

Knowledge shared at the right moment.

Someone willing to listen.

Someone willing to help.

"As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God." — 1 Peter 4:10

The next time I see Mary, I expect she will be where she so often is—near the church door, with that beautiful smile, welcoming someone else and giving a little more of herself away.

And the next time I see her, I hope I do more than smile back.

I hope I remember to ask:

"Mary, how are you really doing?"