It Was a Fresh Start

“I wouldn’t say I was bullied, but people would say mean things about me or spread rumors,” she begins as she twists her gold, beaded ring around her index finger. “I just always had that feeling of being excluded or being on the outside.”

In high school, Eunice would operate with her guard up. “I had to protect myself because no one else would,” she explains.

“I would even try to make friends at church, but it just wouldn’t work out,” her eyes deepen, “So I just gave up. It hurt too much. It was a really dark time in my life.” She looks up.

“I didn’t go to church for about five years, because I was so afraid of getting hurt again.”

Her cheeks soften as she folds a tissue within her hands.

About a year and a half ago, Eunice decided to join her sister, Jane, and visit Ekko for the first time. But as her sister pulled into the parking spot the first day, Eunice’s breathing became strained and difficult. She started to exhibit signs of an anxiety attack. “Eunice! Calm down, they’re not going to eat you!” her sister said in efforts to placate her. “They might!” Eunice cried.

For many years, church had been a source of deep pain and rejection, a place where her fears were often played out. “I was so scared,” she says thinking back on her early days at Ekko. “I’d often cry myself to sleep. I didn’t want to do it all over again.”

But every week after the first, she made the attempt to go with her sister. “It was hard, and if I’m being honest, I’m still nervous at times,” she nods, “But I was meeting new people. And everyone was so welcoming.”

“It was a fresh start.”

Eunice is soft-spoken and timid and every so often beams a smile that takes over her face. When you encounter her, it’s hard to imagine her with a painful past; she is unanxious and gentle, generous and empathetic. And when she begins to talk about the grandmas and grandpas at the elderly home she regularly visits, her voice becomes spirited and enthusiastic.

“They make me laugh so much. They make me cry,” she giggles. “I’m just so thankful for them.”

At around the same time she started to come to Ekko and belong to her new community, Eunice was discovering her heart for the elderly. What began as an internship while she was studying rehabilitation services, started to blossom into a passion.

When Eunice walks into the room where the elderly residents spend hours in between meals, it’s like watching the sunlight paint the walls yellow. Knowing each resident by name, she goes around touching each withered hand and kneeling down to each resident to say hello. She sees each and every one of them — even the grumpy, difficult and weepy ones who stay in the corners.

She reminds them that they are not written off or forgotten — not left to fade away in these last years of life.

That they are worth spending time with.

That they are cherished.

And that they are known.

Even in the days leading up to her visits, Eunice spends hours preparing and purchasing supplies for crafts that will help facilitate movement, creativity and mental stimulation. Though many of the residents have a difficult time holding paintbrushes or even understanding what’s going on, she patiently sits with each individual, carefully guiding each brushstroke and celebrating each little victory.

Whether she is providing birdhouses to paint for the residents, setting up a game of bowling or singing songs and encouraging others to dance, she invites everyone to participate. And if it’s difficult for a particular individual, she’ll improvise to ensure they can be a part of the group activity. Here, sheltered between beige walls amid wheelchairs and strollers, no one is left out.

Everyone belongs.

“I know that they are in the last stages of their life.” Eunice says, “I want to make them as happy as possible, even if they don’t remember me. I’m okay with being a new person every day to them. I just want to do whatever it takes to put a smile on their face.”

Because of Eunice’s joy and love for the elderly, her Ekklesia—her regional home group—began to join her on her visits as their local missional outlet every week.

“Eunice came alive whenever she talked about her interactions with the elderly at the home, and it was honestly quite contagious. Her passion burned and lit everyone else on fire. We didn’t really expect it, but week after week, our Ekklesia members kept coming out to support her.”

— Kevin and Janet Duh, Chino Hills Ekklesia Leaders

When her Ekklesia began to follow her to the elderly home, Eunice felt tremendous gratitude and belonging. And as she and her Ekklesia developed a rhythm of loving and serving the elderly, people at the church began to take notice and affirm her. “I was so shocked. I didn’t even know they saw me. I didn’t even know they knew my name,” she says, shaking her head. 

Though the pain of her own rejection and exclusion cut deep and threatened to derail her life for many years, God has met her here and traded her pain for a wealth of compassion and empathy. Through the redemption of her pain, Eunice is uniquely attuned to the hurts of those around her and embodies a welcoming and gracious presence. And as she sits with the elderly— those often forgotten in our communities—she sits with them. She laughs with them. She cries with them.  

Through her story, God has started to grow in her a vision for the invisible, the voiceless, those left behind or left out.

“I am still healing. And after going to Ekko and the elderly home, I opened up a lot. He has softened my heart,” she says with a bright smile. “I am learning that God hears our cries and doesn’t leave us oppressed.”

To read more about Ekko’s journey with elder care, you can read Pastor Bryan’s blog post here.