We Are In Good Hands
Tender Moments In The Wilderness Reminds Us We Are Loved
by Eric Elkin
“The Lord spoke to Moses, “I’ve heard the complaints of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat. And in the morning you will have your fill of bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.”
Tuesday was a heavy day. Three couples in our congregation are being forced to deal with the reality of our human condition. Our bodies and minds are vulnerable to age and disease. The forces that seek to claim our lives are recklessly powerful. They attack without regard for the sick or the caregiver's emotional well-being. Worse, the process of decline is slow and painful.
I didn't know what to expect when I went to the hospital to visit Val. Her mind has been fading for some time. She had lost the ability to speak even small words coherently. The last time we were together, she did not recognize me. Selfishly, it hurt that she didn't know who I was. Seeing her smile and wave at me whenever we met made me feel good about myself.
Expecting to enter a room of darkness, I was surprised to find light filling the air. Val recognized me. She smiled and waved like seeing a long-lost friend. Her body let me know she was comfortable and at peace. Sitting next to her, just as I expected, was her husband, Gene.
Gene knew this day was coming but was not ready for it. Weeks before my hospital visit, he told me he would need my presence to help him cope with the separation. Now an unexpected infection forced the issue. Val will not be going home. She will find a new place to rest in memory care. Surprisingly, Gene was more at peace with this decision than I expected. He knew it would take more than a change of address to get between them.
“I have held many things in my hands, and I have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God’s hands, that I still possess.”
As Gene spoke to me about their future, Val gently grabbed his hand. She did so without any indication she was following the conversation. It was such a beautiful and tender moment; I couldn't let it go by. As I looked at Gene, I subtly took out my phone and took this picture. Unfortunately, the auto-focus did not focus on the hands. But it doesn't matter.
The day and the picture are just one snapshot of a relationship that has produced thousands of rolls of film. Outsiders tend to focus only on the tender moments and images of a shared life. But Gene will be the first to say it wasn't always good. No partnership can avoid journeys in the wilderness. It is just the truth of loving others. Yet, we journey together knowing we will be sustained by feasts of unexpected joy.
Pastors are invited into intimate moments of weakness. Our sense of compassion compels us to speak a word of hope, but our real purpose is to share in carrying the burden of pain. Like the caregivers, we are powerless to change the course of the decline of a body or mind. Yet, we can offer a feast of bread in the wilderness that will turn our tears into songs of joy.
Sitting this past week with Val and Gene; Julie and Tom; and Terrie and Lars, I have witnessed the tenderness of profound love. I left each meeting thinking that if God's love for us is even greater than these expressions of love, then we are in good hands. And we are definitely in good hands.
Click to read Exodus 16: 1-15
Like it? Take a moment to support Ordinary Voices on Patreon.
More for you . . .
From the blog . . .
