I was assigned, as a hospice chaplain, to visit a new hospice patient at a local nursing home. She was an end-stage Alzheimer’s patient, I was told, and I would find her to be non-responsive. She was a widow with no children. Her extended family rarely visited. She would be alone. I stopped at the nurses’ station when I arrived at the nursing home to ask for directions to the patient’s room. I would find her, they told me, in the very last room, down a very long hall. I talked to the Lord as I walked. “What am I supposed to say to this woman, Lord? She probably won’t even be aware I am there. I don’t know anything about her. Is she a Christian? Would she like a visitor? Would she like a prayer? You’ll have to step up on this one and tell me what to say, tell me what to do.” Clearly he spoke to my spirit, “Sing to her.” I was somewhat startled to get a response. Then I changed the subject. “Lord, I’m almost to her room. If she can’t speak or respond, how am I supposed to know how to minister to her?” I entered the room and found her alone, just as they said she would be. A frail, emaciated Black lady, lying face-to-wall with a single white sheet covering her form. A half-dozen flies kept her company on her sheet. I stepped up to her bedside and began to talk, telling her who I was and that I would like very much to be a help to her. She did not respond in any way. She did not move. She did not open her eyes. “Sing to her.” There it was again. “Lord, I don’t sing. You know that. I can pray. I can read the Bible to her. I can do a lot of things. But not sing. Besides, I don’t know what sort of music she likes. She’s a Black lady. Maybe she likes rap. You don’t really expect me to sing RAP to her, do You?” “Sing to her.” Not a harsh voice. A firm voice. Then from out of nowhere a song came to me that I had not heard, had not even thought about, in at least thirty years. But there it was. Clear as could be. Quietly, so as so make sure no one else in the building would hear, I leaned close to her and began to sing. “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, Bless His holy name.” As I began to repeat the refrain, something amazing happened. Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head and gave me direct eye contact! She looked me straight in the eyes and tried her best to SING with me! She wanted to SING! “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me…” A nurse appeared at the door. She had tears in her eyes. “That’s the first response she given anybody in at least six weeks.” The tears ran down her face. And tears ran down my face, too. Bless His Holy name. -- David Blake
Posted on: Mon, 17 Jun 2013 01:08:22 +0000
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