Friday, September 01, 2006

from my journal...

Sitting here in the ICU with an Anam Cara patient.
It is quiet except for The Machines.
I can barely hear Mr. X as he breathes the last breaths of his life before entering eternity.
But The Machines, they are loud.
With a steady hiss and hum they fight the inevitable.
This ICU is brand new.
With new Machines.
New everything.
Man's heroic- yet futile- attempts to fight death.
Oh, sometimes we postpone it.
Hopefully make it bearable.
But, in the end, sooner or later,
It always wins.

Dear Stranger in the bed,
What kind of life have you had?
Why am I, a stranger, sitting here beside you instead of a loved one?
Do you know that Jesus loves you? Died for you?
Are you at peace knowing you go to spend eternity with him?
I pray that it is so.
There is little more that I can do.
So, I sit and pray for you
and love you for him,
dear stranger in the bed.

{Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us. ~2Cor 1:9&10}

3 comments:

Rachel said...

WOW.
I love you. You know that don't you? I am so grateful for this example you have set out for me and my children. That love does not end when we are no longer capable or able. It does not even end when there is no one to sit with us. You have shown me and mine how to care for those who cannot for themselves. You did it with my granfathers, with my grandmother, and you do it with strangers. Funny. Because I wouldn't have thought that you wouldn't. I cannot imagine myself doing it any other way when my turn comes. When it's you or dad in a bed. Because that is how it's done. You've shown me. I know. I love you mom. You continue to teach me everyday. Thanks.

rachel

Crystal said...

Wow - that's powerful writing, Debbie! Thanks for sharing!

And I love your daughter's response - what awesome things to have your children know.

Sarah said...

you put it so well.
things that split open the brain, and pour out from the heart. Things we never understand, but somehow they build our hope in the Lord. Thanks for sharing this.