My sister and I were recently visiting our Mom at her assisted living community in another state and the three of us were joined one day by another resident, who I’ll call Bonnie, for a meal in the dining room there.

Mom’s 89 and doing pretty well overall, though she spends almost all her time in a wheelchair these days. Bonnie is also a wheelchair user, though she can also sometimes use a walker, and I’d put her in Mom’s ballpark age-wise.

The conversation at the table was very congenial, and at one point Bonnie wanted to know how long we’d be in town. We told her we were headed home in a couple days, and the talk turned to other topics. A few sips of her drink later, Bonnie asked about our travel plans again. We repeated our answer, looking at each other a little curiously. Before the meal was over, I’m guessing that Bonnie had inquired about when we were leaving close to 20 times. A couple of those times, she’d respond to our answer with a glimmer of memory like, “Oh, that’s right,” but usually she just nodded and moved on.

In his wisdom (and, I believe, his sense of humor), God gives us a wide variety of both predictable and unlikely teachers as we wander through our days. If we’re paying attention, I’m pretty sure he can use just about any encounter and event we experience to teach us something. I wish I stopped to think about that more often. But, as I tried to process that meal, I decided Bonnie was one outstanding educator. 

First, she brought to mind the well-known description of authentic love that the apostle Paul shared with the people of Corinth a couple thousand years ago. It begins, “Love is patient, love is kind.” Living out those two qualities means more in situations when it ain’t especially easy to do so. Bonnie threw an unexpected challenge at us, in the process showing us that we are, indeed, called to patience and kindness, and that that calling sometimes requires a very deliberate effort. Making that effort almost always teaches something, both to the giver and the recipient of it.

Bonnie also reminded me how painstakingly patient and kind God is with me, even as he has spent years watching me do many of the same things repeatedly. I wonder if he can’t help but smile and roll his eyes once in a while. I’m enormously grateful that the Bible says his mercies “are new every morning.” I sure appreciate the daily clean slate.

Bonnie spurred some thoughts about aging, too. A friend once told me that growing older is “a battle you can only lose gracefully.” In theory, we can all go off to meet our Maker at any moment, but I’m sure the subject of dying is closer to the surface for folks Bonnie’s age than it is for most younger humans. So, Bonnie also imparted some lessons about how life will extend beyond our time on this planet. (My pastor once put it this way: “The mortality rate for humans is 100%.”) As I begin to pick up speed through my 60s, I’m reminded that the timing and method of my death is entirely in God’s hands.

That being true, perhaps I should put the method of my life into his hands, too. 

I’d recommend having dinner with Professor Bonnie sometime. I give it five stars. And maybe take some notes.