Searching for Hope in Hospice

Friday night I had the honor of being asked to come and pray with a friend and her family.  The honor came in that it was in the most difficult time if their lives together as a family. Her sister had been admitted to hospice that morning and the family was in need of a miracle.

As I made the drive to the facility my mind was racing with what to possibly expect.  I have had little to no experience in these type of situations and was so afraid I'd say something completely stupid. Was I equipped to offer anything helpful to this family?

I arrived about 7:30pm and my friend met me at the entrance. She looked thin from worry, sad yet happy to see a familiar face.

She walked me in and I took note of the sanctuary, family coping rooms and other sobering realities. Deep breaths and silent prayers as I walked the halls.

I was introduced to all of the family but everything changed when I met her mother.  A sweet, short, blonde woman with puffy red eyes and a twinge of hope as she gazed at me.  It hit me as she began talking...I was the "Church friend" and could maybe, just possibly prayer that special prayer to bring her daughter back to health.  I think at this point this woman, this family was looking to anyone who could possibly help in their desperation.

I felt overwhelmed. I kept reminding myself that God can use me even if I feel incompetent.  I just need to be willing, He could use me.

We all sat and they filled me in on their loved ones steady decline. I could see their faces full of grief yet searching for a miracle. Not willing to give up.

Later I was asked if I would be comfortable entering the hospice room to pray over their family member.  She was only 43.  I was prepared for this question and knew I would do anything in my power to love them in this time. So off we went, my brave face on praying the whole time for the proper reactions and words.

Entering that room was one of the most sobering moments of my life.  To see this woman, someone so loved by her family and friends, reduced to a limp body with an oxygen mask. Unable to move, speak or communicate in any way.  My heart sank for this family.

Her mother and sister sat in chairs on either side of her as they draped their exhausted bodies over her lifeless self.  I stood behind my friend and began to beg and plead with God for a miracle. We praised him for his promises and gave our word to trust him in his decisions. Possibly easier said than done in this situation.

When we finished I found myself a hair and sat quietly, chiming in on conversation every now and then. Just trying to follow their lead and blend. Support.

We spent the rest of the evening talking, even laughing at times. I wasn't sure if I was helping in any way shape or form but I was determined to stay at my friends side until she fell asleep or kicked me out. Silently hoping maybe this would help but not all all sure how or why. So I just was. There. Sitting. Talking. Walking. Hugging. Staring. Whatever she needed.

Family came and went, said their goodbyes. I sat.

Midnight came and my friend had finally allowed herself to lay on the cot and began to get the sleepy eyed stare.  I let her know I'd stay if she needed but it looked like maybe she could actually get some rest. So I said my goodbyes and headed back home.

As I drove, the strangest feeling rose up within me. Of course you realize you need to love those around you and not take them for granted... but this was life changing for me.  I took complete inventory of the people in my life. I thought about how I love and what I offer to those in my life.  I thought about the legacy I would leave if I should pass unexpectedly.

All of the sudden I was angry. I felt alone and weak. I was dreading pulling into my home knowing my children were away with their dad and I'd be alone. If there was anywhere else I could have gone I'm sure I would have. Anything but alone.

The next day was a bust. I was a wreck. I didn't answer my phone. I cried all day. Never out of my pajamas. Yelled with big shouty all cap texts to my own mother. I was furious. To be honest I couldn't really tell you why. Maybe some generalities but that's it.

Some have said it was a spiritual warfare situation. Maybe.  I think it was feeling insignificant. That right there could very well be my biggest fear.

Anyway, I have been keeping in touch with my friend daily since Friday and not much has changed over there in hospice. My heart just aches.

She sits watching her flesh and blood fade away. Knowing what is most likely inevitable but still tying to cling on to a slight hope.

I'm not even sure how to end this post.  There are still so many questions yet to be answered.  Perhaps we can all remember this family in our prayers tonight. Send some love and comfort.

Oh, and don't miss an opportunity to tell someone you love them. Please. Please. Don't take life for granted.