My Friend Gilbert, the Angel

I wish I had a picture to show you of Gilbert.

He gave me one last Sunday. He was sitting on a rock in front of those oceans, with one leg straight out, and the other pushed into his chest. He was wearing boots and jeans and a big grin, and the photo was a bit out of focus.

I met Gilbert one Sunday morning while I was working my "table"...which means I was at a table dedicated to all the Junior High information. He came up and wanted to sign up for some of our events. I had to tell him it was only for Jr. Highers. He took flyers and a calendar and told me how much he loved Star Wars (one of my flyers had Chewy on it). We talked for a good, long time as people stared. He asked if I would want to sit by him during service, but I could not. He gave me a hug and a kiss, and headed over to the next table to sign up for some children's events.

Gilbert is an older man. He probably is only in his late forties, but looks much older. he doesn't have any teeth, he rarely ever shaves, he always wears way-embelleshed jeans with flames and logos, and always has a henna tattoo on his wrist or hand.

He also has a mental disorder. He thinks and acts like a four year old, because that is his mental capacity. He has a care taker who takes him church every Sunday on the bus.

He loves to run up and give me a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. His grin runs from one ear to another, and even though he has no teeth, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. He loves to talk to me (although I can rarely understand anything he ever says because he has no teeth) and he also loves to push the hair out of my eyes and away from my face. I don't mind, although sometimes his breath may smell. But doesn't our breath smell sometimes, too?

On Sunday, I was in one of those moods where you just want to fade into the crowd. You don't really want to sit by anyone. Those days I feel like this are kind of diastrous, because I go to a church where EVERYONE knows me. I can't fade. But I try. On this particular Sunday, I was sitting to the far left, semi-front, just fading in. We stood up to sing worship, and Gilbert slips in beside me. After a big hug, we begin to worship.

I love worshipping by Gilbert. And i love that the Lord let him sit by me. He can't really clap on beat, but he claps. And he claps enthusiastically, smiling and looking all around at everyone else. I had to laugh. Then, when we sing, he sings too, although he doesn't know the words. He moreso sings very high-pitched, trying to hit the girl notes. Again, I had to laugh, as my eyes were closed. Because, you see, God probably loves Gilbert's singing more than my poor concentrated effort to harmonize. I decided to join Gilbert in his out-of-range octave and sing along. And then, as I raised my hand to the Lord, Gilbert grabbed my other hand dangling by my side. And we worshipped together. It was one of the most unique and enjoyable worship though song I've ever encountered.

As we sat done, we got out our bibles and notes and pens. Gilbert helped me find the right page (although we were going through Hosea and not Revelation), and we began to listen to Pastor Craig. Craig asked the congregation how many books there were in the bible, and serious as a heart attack, Gilbert answered, "8,724". Then again, louder, "8,724!!!" Craig said, "that's right, 66." and Gilbert replied, "yes, 66." I had to stifle my giggle. I was going to pee my pants.

Gilbert and I took notes together and listened. I thanked the Lord for a friend like Gilbert who doesn't care about what the world thinks. He doesn't care how he is perceived. He doesn't care that he doesn't know the right answers or has the best voice. He's Gilbert. And God loves him.

As we went our separate ways, Gilbert told me, as he always does, that he would see me that night, which, of course, he would not because there are no sunday night events. Then, he hugged me, and said, "Take care, little girl."

When I wanted to fade into the crowd and just stop existing for a while, the Lord sent me Gilbert. Or rather, allowed Gilbert to find me. I think the Lord used Gilbert. Maybe I blended in to the crowd in everyone else's eyes. But because Gilbert doesn't see the world the way most people do (just like the Lord) he was able to find me. And not only did he SEE me, but he MET me, in the hour of my semi-depression and funk. Gilbert was my angel, my touch from God on Sunday.

Thank you, Lord, that you see me when I don't want to be seen. And thanks for Gilbert.