I drove in to Toronto yesterday to visit one of our members who was in an accident that busted him up every which way to Sunday. He spent a month in an American hospital, clinging to life for the first while, then was air ambulanced back to T.O when his condition improved. Unfortunately he took a serious turn for the worse shortly after he returned, and his survival seemed in jeopardy again.
In Critical Care I stood beside his remarkably strong wife while a young doctor carefully shared what turned out to be gigantic good news about a tiny improvement from the previous day. It was enough that the doc was making hopeful noises, however cautious, and his hand motioning a "positive incline" was a welcome sight.
Eventually we were allowed into the room, albeit with gowns, masks, and gloves in place. This poor guy had to contend with a masked stranger looming over him, but he responded to his wife's encouragement that he did know me and that I was part of the God Squad. He reached out for my hand as I began to read psalm 121 and closed his eyes for prayer. He even gave my hand a squeeze when I finished. These situations are so meaningful for those of us in ministry.
It was important to be able to tell him that many others at St. Paul's are praying for him, and to present both his wife and adult daughter with prayer shawls, along with another for him. I will encourage everyone who knows this family to keep them in the "critical prayer unit."
Have you ever been that person at the hospital bedside, or the person in crisis in the hospital bed? Were you aware of the prayers of a faith community? Any thoughts from my colleagues in ministry about our wierd and wonderful roles in hospitals?