A Healing in Hospice

 I almost dumped an entire cup of coffee in my underwear drawer Thursday morning. No joke.

As I dressed for the busy day, I sat the cup on my dresser top and started to pull my hand away. A finger caught in the handle, tipping the mug forward. Coffee splashed into the drawer and onto the glass top, but somehow I averted the disaster. The adrenaline rush helped me get out the door in a timely fashion, though.

After my fifth visit with my jaw therapist (the TMJ kind), I headed back to Tranquility, a community hospice facility in our county.  My friend Debi was transported there on Monday to ease the process as she labored into eternity.

She slipped through heaven's doors Thursday evening, about eight o'clock. And our long bedside vigil came to an end.

Debi was a fighter. She battled colon cancer that metastasized into liver and lung cancer with an inner glow that defied logic.  Self conscious about a lost tooth and thinned hair, I'm not sure she grasped the beauty we saw in her. But it's what drew me to her two years ago, when I realized she was the one mentioned on prayer lists. The forty- something year old, blonde haired mother of two never looked as sick as medical tests verified. So as cancer hollowed her cheeks and ebbed the sparkle in her blue eyes, I couldn't stay from her side very long.

As summer comes to a close, I'll remember my week at the ocean's edge, my week in luscious mountains, and this week in the beauty of the hospice facility where she died; God's presence equally evident in all three locations. While I would rather that suffering was not a part of anyone's life, I know that walking through the depths of sorrow can lead to the deepest understanding of God's rescuing, eternal love. 

As I sat by her side, rubbing her soft hand, I didn't care about the dirty dishes piled at home, or national news issues, or lots of the silly things that clog my brain at times. Perspective changed in the face of her suffering; what matters was no longer skewed by selfish longings.

Debi was on her way to her eternal healing and watching that up close reminded me once more that "Our light and momentary sufferings are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."(2 Corinthians 4: 17)

So let the coffee spill. Let the politicians argue. Let the storms rage, and humanity struggle for purpose.  My prayer is that I wake tomorrow and the next day... and even the next, remembering I'm journeying to heaven, not towards comfort here on earth.

This is Debi and her family with me and Don at my Sam's wedding in December. She was very sick on high doses of chemo but drove in pouring rain - an hour and a half - to support me at the wedding. And as you can see, she didn't look sick. But she was. She sacrificed for others, and fought to live every day to the fullest.

 photo credit: javaturtle via photopin cc