Let the Glory of God Fill
This Room
Last month one evening after I was in
bed, I received a call from Hospice Care requesting my help. They had
a need for someone to sit with a woman in a nursing home a few miles
from our home. They were asking for relief for a family
member, between 12 and 6am that night. Would I consent to go and sit
with that woman for two hours of my choice. Never having gone to any
hospice need at that hour, somewhat oddly, I consented. Anyway I
often awake sometime in that time block.
About 3 A.M. I woke up, dressed and
prepared to go shortly before 4, the hour scheduled. I took the
shortest route suggested on Yahoo, although it was thru off-roads I
have never traveled. When I arrived there, the nurse led me to the
room where an elderly woman was in bed. She was not at all
conversant; I don't even know if she knew I was there as I introduced
myself. She was lying on her back, breathing laboriously with each
breath as with considerable effort.
What could I do for her? I did not even
know her, never having met any family of hers either. I could sit
there, or what? So I stood there and prayed for her. I had to follow
my “instincts” in knowing how to pray. Would it even make any
difference how I prayed? So I prayed that God would be gracious to
her and prepare her heart to meet him, forgiving her for anything
that might still be lingering her departure. What else I prayed for,
I am not clear on by now. It seemed like a holy moment with somehow
God present there in this meeting of mystery with this unknown woman.
I concluded my prayer with an unlikely conclusion for me: Let the
glory of God fill this room!
I sat down, perhaps for the first time
since I had come there. I glanced down and read a short page of a
magazine I had with me. I had been in the room with the woman about
25 minutes. When I looked up, I saw the woman was totally calm,
quiet, deathly quiet. I waited and she did not move again. She was
gone. I found her nurse who came and affirmed that she was gone and
there was nothing more for me to do or remain there.
When I checked the obituary later, I
learned she was a member of a church close to our home. And that she
had worked at Faith Mission in town as a “cashier” as staff. Why
I was called there to preside over her home-going, only God really
knows. It seems I was to prepare her for her transition to her next
life. God led me to pray for her release, I believed, what ever was
still needed. Why I was needed for that, again only God knows. It was
a holy experience, at 4:00 A.M.
