They come to this place to have their broken parts fixed and
the people I work with work hard. They care, they really do. But when the fixing needs a little nudge or
there is no fixing to be done, they come and get me.
That’s how I end up sitting at his bedside: They told him there was nothing left that they could do.
I’d met him before—in his sleep. We couldn’t get him to
awaken so I sat with his family in the dim light with rain pattering the
window. They told me who he is—who he was…what he likes to do…Who he loves.
They told me how fast this has all happened.
I listened.
I listened.
He’s a tall man but his proud frame has wasted into a
smallish one. The top of his head is fuzzy with new-growing hair. He keeps
rubbing it when he talks to me. No longer asleep, he looks me in the eye. He
can’t always find the words; his mind a bit fuzzy. But when he can’t
get it out, he just looks at me with a vague smile and points up.
I smile back. With watery eyes. Because I know
exactly what he’s talking about.
His family is quiet and he keeps reaching for his wife’s
hand. The air flows gentle in this place. I ask because I can’t help myself and he smiles again. We pray together. I hold his hand and it is strong and
tender. His voice is sure as he leads this familiar conversation. When he is
finished, he tells me that he will see me again one day.
We will be dancing
with joy, he says.
Will you save me a
dance? I ask.
Yes, he says. I will.
And when I walk away, I leave something real with him. And I carry something
real with me.
Hope is something we hold in our hands.
Hope is something we hold in our hands.
How do you embrace the God-joy? Every Monday I’ll
be sharing one of my Playdates with God. I would
love to hear about yours. It can be anything:
outside, quiet time. Maybe it’s solitary. Maybe
it’s loud and crowded. Just find Him. Be with Him.
The Playdates button:
25 comments:
Tender...hanging on to ponder this today- I feel this: Hope is something we hold in our hands...thanks, Laura. Powerfully and gently moving. Bless you in this...bless them in their loss.
Your ministry among that family is real, and sweet, and true. What a blessing that moment was. Thanks for sharing it with us, Laura.
Beautiful. What faith, what hope! May we all look forward to that dance. Blessings!
I have been there - had the family member - and it is sweet blessing when those that love God carefully listen and minister like that!
"Hope is something we hold in our hands." Beautiful, Laura. You're holding it, passing it on, sharing it with others. Thanks for sharing it with me.
these are the conversations that matter most ....
Thanks for sharing such a sweet meeting with all of us, Laura. I'm so glad you were there with him to encourage and be encouraged.
Entering into the dance, with every chance we get, this, sometimes, is the greatest challenge for me. Thanks for sharing this moment of beauty. Do you work as a chaplain, Laura?
How does this world live without the eternal hope of Jesus? His hope is enduring. His hope is the only hope with forever attached to it. Thank you for giving this hope to others. You're a beacon.
Your job is such a ministry, Laura.
Laura, this brings back memories of sitting with my parents and my aunt. Tender, sweet, and difficult. I'm grateful that they all knew Jesus. I was privileged to sit with them. I cannot imagine it being your work. Grateful to know that it's your call...the carrier of Hope. How blessed each one is for your ministry as they enter the valley of the shadow.
There is always, always mercy. There is always, always hope and joy ahead, even in those times and places we most fear and dread. "Save me a dance." Priceless.
Oh, this touched me deeply as we are dealing with a very sick loved one right now. Beautiful.
No words just tears! Much hope!
Blessings
So powerful and moving
What a tender, sensitive telling of your presence --and Jesus' -- in another person's life. So many people would not be able to handle a job like yours. They wouldn't be sensitive enough, or aware enough, or comfortable enough -- or being around those near the end of life would be too distressing. So thankful, Laura, that God has placed you in this gentle ministry. He must be smiling at your willingness to pick up on the signs of concern and offer your compassion and his love.
Love ya, gal!
kingfisher's latest post is "Broken, Shines" at
http://kingfishercrossing.blogspot.com/2013/02/broken-shines.html
I think, were I ever in that dear man's place, how filled with joy and hope I would feel in your presence. Your words flow from a compassionate heart Laura, and they minister in Jesus' name.
So beautiful, Laura! Praise God for our blessed hope! Thanks for hosting & God bless!
Laurie
http://savedbygracebiblestudy.blogspot.com/
your writing, quiet really, seeps in and it's beautiful
It takes my breath away, this piece. Maybe because I imagine joy dancing with my grannie one day.
Bringing comfort is a ministry and you were the one that was needed. This is such a sweet post and you will be saving that dance!
This work you do, it's a sacred work. I'm gentled by your words, by just your presence on this page.
ohhh, Laura. What Sandy King said. This brought tears to my eyes.
Yes, this.
What a precious interchange. As Sandra said, you do have a sacred calling. God has given you a beautiful gift, Laura, one that not many have. It must make Him smile so to see you exercising it even when that brings tears. Well done, sister.
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