Walk away

This week was a good week, as I learned quite a lot about myself, and what this ministry to others is all about. Early this week I shared some info about a listening video I was watching and story telling, but also this week, a friend of mine, well, here's the story:

I was making my rounds Tuesday, and finishing up on my visits for the day. I wanted to stop by a friends room and check on her. I knew she was not doing well, and from our previous talk a few weeks ago, she knew her time on earth was numbered. She was alone when I saw her and didn't have much family around. On my first visit, her door was open, and she was eager to have anyone walk by so she could call them in and visit, and just talk. As I entered her room, the nurse got up to allow me my time. After my visit, I realized she had probably been there long enough, caught up in conversation, and unable to find the point in time to excuse herself. For this friend of mine needed company. Well, as I wondered the hall Tuesday looking for her room, I stopped at the desk to inquire of the nurse where the room number for this particular lady was.
She looked at me, and said "Oh, she expired."
Literally, I said out loud, "hmm. this morning? yesterday?"
"i'm not sure" she said (of course, its not really information you can just give out)
But from the census that morning, she was still alive, so it must have occurred that morning.
I said thank you, and began my walk to the elevator. Wondering why in the world I felt what I did. A sudden loss. In my short time here, this was the second person I had visited that had passed away. And how or why that affects me, is because I enjoyed the visits I had, and was encouraged when I left their rooms. They meant something to me. The words or facial expressions they shared, impacted my day, and my thoughts, and helped me sort out some of my own feelings. So it's as if I lost a teacher that day. Our previous talk ended with, "come by and see me again." Not much to say after that, I don't feel the burden of guilt taking over, nor do I feel like I let her down... but I do. Because I wanted to pray with her again. But my heart rejoices in the life she has now, with our Lord. In her new spirit and body, alive in Christ, without pain or medicines and able to be as ambulatory as possible.
But that doesn't stop the hurt I felt Tuesday, walking away from her floor, where the angels had just been to pick her up for her life eternal.
Another man I had visited previously, I was also able to see again. We had a long talk about life and the future we have. But the main lesson I learned from him that day, is that sometimes God gives us tools today, to be used for tomorrow. Here I am in my job in computers, and God gives me a screwdriver. And I say, what is this for God? I don't need a screwdriver. But I hold on to it. And find myself directed toward this ministry of helping those in need. And the computer time is gone and the screwdrivers purpose is seen. Then God gives me a hammer. And I say, what do I need a hammer for Lord? This is useless right now. And then the storm of the century comes along, and you find yourself out there helping rebuild lives.
God is equipping us with tools and experiences today for the work he has planned for us tomorrow. And sometimes those tools are illness and crisis. But there is a purpose to be found in those moments. Much like Solomon says in the end of Ecclesiates, the purpose is to fear God and obey his commands... and to bring him Glory and Praise through our lives. My friend told me to come back, because I was always welcome. Hmm. That meant a lot to me. It wasn't just a "i hope to see you again", it was a sincere friendship that had formed in our time together that he looked forward to our next talk.
Yesterday I was working the oncall shift at MDA, and was able to attend a rounds meeting with the other chaplain. As the team talked about patient care, it was said, it looks like we're hearing this more and more, about people needing assistance or 24 hr care.
And it hit me, we need each other. We need to know there is a friend nearby. A helping hand, someone to carry us. Someone to give to us. Someone to just hold our hand.
I also went by to check on 2 friends I met Monday in the ICU. One lady had just been repositioned by the nurses, and was out of breath, and having a hard time calming down. She was not able to talk much, per the nurse, but was glad to see me. Her life thus far had not been the reflection of Christ she had wanted (from what I can gather in some of her words in previous talks) and I wanted her to know I cared enough about her to come back and see how she was doing. She was alone. I grabbed her hand and said, you don't have to talk, I just wanted to be here with you for a moment and let you know you are not alone. Her eyes said thank you.
We held hands for a few moments, in silence. And then I asked her to pray with me. Once the prayer was over, I continued to hold her hand until her daughter and sister came back in the room. As I was waiting on my visit with her, I had noted she was on R insulin. Which probably connected me pretty well to my friend in her time of need and uncertainty about tomorrow.
I then went to visit another friend, elderly lady. Her daughter was with her, and was talked. Her husband came in the room, and met him for the first time. I said, "I came to visit your bride today" His eyes said thank you. He was very appreciative. We talked some and then I invited them in prayer, and to lift up her upcoming surgery. After I had finished, I was ready to let go of the hands, but her husband added..."Lord, thank you for Steve" and that was about all he could get out. My eyes said thank you.
There is a connection behind every door. Our lives are really not that different on the inside, its only different in how we present them on the outside. A few things I've learned this week:
1. We need the touch of each other
2. Silence in times of crisis and fear is good
3. I like hearing others pray
4. The pain we have today will be used tomorrow
5. God knows what he's doing, and what he's giving us
6. I was welcomed back to see a friend. I'm not sure what I can say about this now, but it meant a great deal to me.
7. the Holy number, I learned it is never too late to love God.