“I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.” (John 14:18)
The week began as usual and I began my rounds as the chaplain of the hospital. As I made my way from room to room, I hesitated. I walked down the corridor and knocked on the door of a room far down the hall. I could not help myself; it was as if I was being drawn to this particular room.
The week began as usual and I began my rounds as the chaplain of the hospital. As I made my way from room to room, I hesitated. I walked down the corridor and knocked on the door of a room far down the hall. I could not help myself; it was as if I was being drawn to this particular room.
Julie, the daughter of the patient, asked me to come in and sit next to her on the lounge. As I sat there, she began to cry and said the doctors told her, It would not be long before her mother passes away. I listened as she spoke of their lives together and those magic moments they had together. She spoke for some time of how she would miss her mother. I looked up at the patient and noticed she was no longer breathing and asked Judy to excuse me a moment.
I went to the charge-nurse and asked if she would check the patient because I thought she had died. I returned to the room to be with Julie when the nurse arrived. The nurse leaned over the patient, placed her stethoscope to her heart and listened. It seemed an eternity. She turned to Julie and said, “I am so sorry for your loss.” Julie turned, threw her arms around my neck. Weeping, she placed her head on my shoulder and mourned. At this moment, I found I had no words to say but then, no words were necessary. This was a moment when a tender presence was more comforting than any words.
I went to the charge-nurse and asked if she would check the patient because I thought she had died. I returned to the room to be with Julie when the nurse arrived. The nurse leaned over the patient, placed her stethoscope to her heart and listened. It seemed an eternity. She turned to Julie and said, “I am so sorry for your loss.” Julie turned, threw her arms around my neck. Weeping, she placed her head on my shoulder and mourned. At this moment, I found I had no words to say but then, no words were necessary. This was a moment when a tender presence was more comforting than any words.
Jesus told his disciples, “I will not leave you comfortless.” He will send a comforter; God’s Holy Spirit reminds us of the nearness of God in our times of despair. God is there waiting for us to reach out to Him.
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