Hospital ministry can be such a blessing, but it can also
cause a person to lose their focus on Christ if we allow it to. On one
particular hectic Saturday a couple of years ago, I found myself seriously
doubting the usefulness of such a ministry. The morning began with my running
behind schedule, as I was really not feeling much up to doing it in the first
place. To top it off, I was late getting to the hospital due to accidentally
setting the alarm off at church when I unlocked the door. It was my turn as Team
Leader to pick up the Eucharist from the church for our team members in the
hospital ministry that week. In my hurried frustration, I could not remember the
code.
After several tries, I began to worry about how I would ever
get to the hospital on time. For the life of me I could not get the alarm to
accept my code and the incessant ringing of the burglar alarm was really
starting to make me break out in a sweat.
Struggling to find my code in my purse, I finally located it
and discovered I had transposed the numbers. “Drat!” I wondered to myself.
“Will I ever learn this new fangled contraption?” Arriving out of breath and
full of apologies to the others members of the ministry team, we quickly set to work. After checking the patient
logs the receptionist handed us, we split up the hosts and began our appointed
rounds.
While riding the elevator to the first floor of patients, I
thought to myself: “I can serve Jesus today and take Him to those who need Him
so very much.” I was trying very hard to talk myself into being cheerful and enthusiastic. That thought started working as I came to the
first floor, but by the 11th floor my spirit was beginning to lag once
again. Feeling very dejected, I began to wonder why we even bothered giving up
our time on Saturdays to do Hospital Ministry. That Saturday was much like the
last few we had experienced. We volunteer our time to bring the Eucharist to
the hospitalized and most of the patients are totally disinterested. The usual
response was: “No, thanks! I don’t care to receive.” Some of the patients would even tell you out
right they were not happy to be bothered with a visit. That Saturday morning it
began to look as if I would have to return most of the hosts to the church
again.
As I checked in at the nursing station on the eleventh
floor, I was beginning to get the definite feeling that I needed to step back
from hospital ministry for a time. It had gotten to be very disheartening to
have so many people not interested in receiving. They all seemed to be too busy
wanting to see their doctor or involved in phone conversation that I began to feel like the unwanted guest at
a wedding reception.
As the nurse handed me back the approved patients list, I
found there are only three patients on this last floor to visit, and only two
of them could receive the Eucharist. The third patient was marked for a prayer
visit only. I had to brace myself mentally for more refusals as I walked toward
the first room to meet with a patient named Martha. I was definitely not happy
and not in a cheerful mood. I worked mightily to paste a smile on my face and
appear cheerful even though I felt like just calling it a day and going home.
As I tapped on the door gently, I prepared to
announce myself. But before I could utter a
word, this very weak but beautiful voice said;
“OH! Come in please! You have brought me my Jesus! I could see His light
coming down the hall towards my room.” As I fully entered, I saw a lady who was
eagerly anticipating her visit from the Divine Physician. This woman, I would
learn later, had come to the hospital for the last time. Martha was in the final stages of her cancer battle, but Martha’s soul was at
peace as she eagerly awaited Her Lord!
Standing in her presence, I felt humbled and quite sure that
I was witnessing a little miracle. Martha needed no one to tell her Jesus was
present. Her eye’s gazed at the Host with what I can only describe as sheer
rapture. It was as if the veil of the Tabernacle opened and Christ stepped
forth to hold His dying child in His arms himself. I myself, to say the least,
was chagrined at my earlier grumpy thoughts of how useless our ministry was. I left
Martha to make the next patient visit with a very contrite spirit and I was
full of joy to have been able to bring Christ to one sweet soul that day.
In the moments before I approached the next room, I paused
with tears coursing down my cheeks and contritely whispered to Jesus; “I am
sorry for being so grumpy about giving my time to carry you to the sick. Martha
has shown me Lord how much You care. I know that it is worth every minute of my
time. I myself am a very poor instrument to bring you to the sick and suffering. Please forgive me
Jesus!”
Checking with the next patient’s nurse, I found that this
patient had a whole room full of visitors. Jim and his family members were very
warm and welcoming, and they all wanted to receive Jesus! After leaving Jim and
his family still deep in their prayers of thanksgiving for Christ in the
Eucharist, I stopped outside the room of my last patient. Checking with his
nurse I was a bit startled when she replied, “Daniel is probably not worth
bothering with but go on in if you want to.” By this time I knew for certain
that Christ wanted me to make the effort, even if it would be a waste of time.
He had showed me how much He was appreciated by Martha and Jim’s family and I
was determined not to disappoint Him again with my poor attitude.
I gently tapped on the door and announced myself to the
motionless figure lying in the darkened hospital room. At the sound of my
voice, Daniel turned over as best he could. In that instant, I found myself
looking into the most beautiful blue eyes I believe I have ever seen. Eyes,
which smiled with the brightness of all heaven, as if to say; “Welcome! How
happy I am that you have come to visit me!” Eye’s, which mesmerized me with
their beauty even though Daniel, poor creature, was covered with the most awful
pustules, which had disfigured his face. I could hardly recognize his nose and
his mouth was full of the most haphazard gapping teeth I believe I have ever
seen. Daniel, it turned out was profoundly retarded as well as very physically
misshapen. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that Daniel not only recognized
Jesus... to me he became Jesus in this most distressing disguise.
As I prayed at Daniel’s bedside, I swear I could hear the
angels singing; “Glory to God in the Highest and to all his creatures on earth!” Daniel, even though he was mute and
physically and mentally challenged, renewed my spirit more than I can say. I
came to bring Jesus to the sick and the suffering, but I found Jesus that day through the love
for Christ in the Eucharist of a dying woman named Martha. Jesus
was there in midst of Jim’s family, and in the end, I found Jesus was Truly
Present in the blue eyes of a man named Daniel.
Copyright 1999
1 comment:
Wow, Christine! Such a sweet story! I have tears rolling down my face. Thank you for sharing this!
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