Opinion

The year was 1775 and Virginia leaders had convened the Second Virginia Convention at Richmond — in what is now called St. John’s Church — instead of the Capitol in Williamsburg to avoid interference from Governor Dunmore. Delegate Patrick Henry presented resolutions to raise and establish a militia, and to put Virginia in a posture of defense. Henry’s opponents urged caution and patience until the crown replied to Congress’ latest petition for reconciliation.

Frieda was in her fifties when she enrolled in our outpatient hospice service with terminal breast cancer. She worked as a bookkeeper until she became disabled. Frieda was gentle, tenderhearted and soft-spoken. I stopped by her house one day and her hospital bed was peppered with handwritten letters. She told me, “I’m using the time I have remaining to write letters to my family and friends, to tell them how much I love and appreciate them, what I see in them and what I hope for them.” Frieda seemed to be at peace but her husband Frank was in turmoil, stressed and distressed. He was stretched tight and thin between caring for his wife, absorbing her roles in the home and managing a local business. They, like many people, were only one or two paychecks away from financial bankruptcy. Frank couldn’t afford to take a leave from work, especially with the loss of Frieda’s income.

Seeing that Mother’s Day is just around the corner, I thought I’d write about the beauty and power of a mother’s love. Dee was in her mid-fifties when admitted to hospice; a prominent beautician who owned and managed a local salon. You have to love the name of her salon, “Dee’s Wigwam”. It’s been years since Dee died, so some of the details have faded. I can’t even recollect her illness, but I’ll never forget her elegance and grace. There was just something about her.

In a brief essay entitled Thoughts on Government written during the early spring of 1776, John Adams articulated the central points of his philosophy of government. It was his firm belief that history had presented him and the other colonists with an unmatched opportunity to form their own governments as free and independent states… “You and I, my dear friend, have been sent into life at a time when the greatest lawgivers of antiquity would have wished to live. How few of the human race have ever enjoyed an opportunity of making an election of government, more than of air, soil, or climate, for themselves or their children!

I’m stepping out of my normal format this week. I’m not writing about a hospice patient; I’m writing about Charlie. I’m writing about one of those short-lived personal encounters that make a lifelong impression.

Genesis 28:15 says, “Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

Joyce was referred to Hospice with end stage liver failure. As the hospice social worker it was my job to meet with Joyce to reach a mutual decision about whether hospice was right for her. I can visualize our first meeting. Joyce was sitting up in her bed when I entered her hospital room. She was frail and so thin I could have wrapped my thumb and index finger around her upper arm. She was only in her thirties, but her face reflected a person weathered beyond her years by a stormy life. She was clearly in the final stage of her disease. I introduced myself and asked about her condition. She boldly admitted, “I know I’m going to die soon.” Since she was so direct I decided to be too. I asked what she believed spiritually, about whether or not she believed in life after death; and without saying a word, she reached for a Bible lying on her bedside table. She pulled a creased stained sheet of paper from between the pages and shared, “Someone at a half way house I was staying in gave this to me. I don’t even remember who it was, but I’ve held on to it ever since.” She handed it to me as if to say, “This is what I believe!” I don’t think I’ve read anything that better describes the value and power of God’s word. Joyce passed it on to me, now I’m passing it on to you.

There is a story from Today in the Word I’ve loved for years about Automaker Henry Ford who asked electrical genius Charlie Steinmetz to build the generators for his factory. One day the generators ground to a halt, and the repairmen couldn’t find the problem. Ford called Steinmetz, who tinkered with the machines for a few hours and then threw the switch. The generators whirred to life. Ford got a bill for $10,000 from Steinmetz. Flabbergasted, the rather tightfisted carmaker inquired why the bill was so high. Steinmetz’s reply: For tinkering with the generators, $10. For knowing where to tinker, $9,990. Ford paid the bill! It often amazes me as I recall the expert advice or the pearls of wisdom that have been graciously handed to me from a friend. It happens sometimes as I see a memory on Facebook or when I come across their contact information on my I Phone. May what we impart to others who follow be Godly and wise.

Recently I had the extraordinary privilege of spending some time with the chaplain of the United States Senate Ret. Rear Admiral Barry C. Black in his Capitol hill office. We had a wonderful conversation about his journey to where God has placed him in ministry. We spoke of past Senate Chaplains such as Peter Marshall and Lloyd John Ogilvie whose prayers were so very timely and effective. At the end of our time together however Chaplain Black said in his very deep baritone voice, “Pastor Tim, allow me to pray over you” and pray he did!

Luanna enrolled in our outpatient hospice service with terminal cancer. Luanna and her husband, Henry, are modest, temperate folk. Henry is probably a little more temperate and it is Henry who this story is about.