A person isn’t guaranteed a wheelchair just because he needs it. He must also be able to afford it. Down the crooked back stairs, along a narrow hallway, through an unmarked door, and into a low-ceilinged room in the basement of the old stone church — this is the heart of the hidden ministry.
Even a low-end version of the crudest design will likely cost him hundreds of dollars. Given that not every hobbled body has this sort of cash in pocket, it is inevitable that some will lose out.
Or perhaps your health insurance won’t cover the cost of a walker. Maybe you simply need a pair of crutches or a cane to see you through a short recovery, and you don’t want to purchase an item that you will use only temporarily. Maybe your aged parent needs bed rails or a shower chair or some other necessary bit of medical hardware. Where do you turn?
For nearly 30 years the First Presbyterian Church of Iola has been quietly attending to this facet of the population through its medical equipment loan program.
It is as it sounds: If you or a friend or family member is in need of any piece of durable medical equipment, the First Presbyterian Church will lend it to you.
According to Elyssa Jackson, the church’s administrative assistant, a member of the board of deacons, and the individual charged with curating the growing stock of medical appliances: “We’re pretty much saying, ‘If you need it, we’ll give it to you for as long as you want.’ … We’re letting people use things free of charge. We want anybody who needs that help to know we’re here.”
“We get calls to borrow things almost daily,” said the Rev. Jennifer Loeb.
She recalls the example of a local man who was able to attend his granddaughter’s wedding after securing a wheelchair from the church. A couple of weeks later he requested two wheelchairs, so that he and his wife could both attend, this time, their great-granddaughter’s wedding. “It is a wonderful, ‘hidden’ sort of ministry to the community.”
Jackson stands beneath a pair of bare lightbulbs amid an ad hoc showroom of donated items: “We’ve got walkers, we’ve got potty seats, we’ve got shower chairs, we’ve got wrist braces, we’ve got foot rests for the wheelchairs, canes, we’ve got crutches.”
And yet the church still has a real need for more donations. Growing demand is putting increased pressure on the program’s capacities. According to Jackson, the church owns 19 wheelchairs. Today, all but two are checked out.
“We definitely have a shortage of wheelchairs — specifically wide-set wheelchairs.” Jackson unfolds one of the chairs and points to its narrow seat. “As you can see, you’d have to be a tiny little lady to fit in that.”
Anyone offering to donate anything, said Jackson, “should just call me up, and I will take a look at it, make sure the condition is good, number it, and get it to our closet.”
Jackson can be reached at the church at 620-365-3481.
The majority of those who use the program, according to Jackson, are not members of First Presbyterian, and many come from outside Iola, having learned of the program through word of mouth.
The church, according to Loeb, is considering, in time, a website, where the available equipment would be on view to the prospective borrower.
The next step, though, is to transfer the loan closet from the basement to the ground floor. Placing it nearer the building’s entrance — where it will adjoin Jackson’s office — will make pick-up and drop-off easier. But the move is a signal, too, of the program’s increased priority within the church.
Although it is organized by First Presbyterian’s staff, the equipment loan closet is another example of the various errands of mercy which, like the Sunday-night soup kitchen, can only really be made whole by the active participation of the community it desires to serve.
“It’s true,” said Loeb. “The more we do these things, the greater response we get.”