Today I met Carol at the picnic table outside in our park. We had lunch. Well, I had lunch. Carol didn't bring lunch because she says she doesn't eat anything anymore. I said that was nonsense and gave her my bag of potato chips. She didn't eat them but seemed OK with the idea of feeding them to Pebbles, her parrot.
We planned to meet at the picnic table at 1:45. I was five minutes early, but Carol was there waiting when I arrived.
Carol did most of the talking today. She usually does. She says alot of things that don't make sense and alot of things that make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes it seems to me that her stories are false. All these bad things that have happened to her. Really bad things. I think she makes them up. She's not well. And then other times she seems to me to be the most sincere person I know. She's smart and funny. Sometimes I laugh hard and out loud.
I know. I know to be careful. I will be cautious. Because all of these things she tells me, they can't be all true. They really can't. It would be too awful.
She's not well, mentally...I think. When Jesus says that we visit Him when we visit the sick, do the mentally sick count? Or do I run away because mentally sick people do things like massacre 33 people at Virgina Tech University. But when I have lunch with Carol I know that she couldn't hurt a fly. When I hand her my bag of potato chips, she has a sweet and honest smile, and pretty eyes. And when I tell her that God hears her prayers, she thinks about it, and then says she believes me.