Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband; and I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling of God is with humans. He will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
Revelation 21: 1-4
The Friends have a phrase for describing the process a family or community undergoes as a loved one nears the end of life. It’s called walking home.
I’ve always loved this expression because it is both instructive and hopeful. Instructive because it gives us something meaningful to do as we help loved ones conclude their life. And it is a hopeful double entendre, as home is welcoming and, in my faith tradition, home is where we belong.
Nowhere is that powerful ministry of walking brothers and sisters home more meaningfully experienced than in nursing homes or hospitals where caregivers and hospice practitioners provide care, comfort, support—and dignity—to those who are on their way home.
One of the unspoken challenges of aging or coping with a terminal illness is confronting the indignities that often accompany the devolution of our bodies. Simple functions like chewing food, personal hygiene, or cleaning up after bodily functions are made impossible. Instead, our bodies revert to infant dependency while our adult minds are often completely aware and humiliated. And then, at that moment, a care giver arrives performing these functions for us, and on our behalves; that is, feeding, bathing, and cleaning.
I am in personal awe of these people; of their vocations—their callings. Washing dirty feet in the way of that first holy hospice provider is child’s play compared to the work they do, shift-in and shift-out. Their work isn’t one time work. For weeks and months and years on end, most often with minimal remuneration, they whistle and sing and joyfully move from room to room like the young man with dreadlocks I’ve observed these last years. I’ve seen the spark of renewed life that flashes in dying patients dimming eyes when that young man comes in the door; he who has managed to transform a moment of indignity into hope, care and affirmation. And I know that many of you have seen it too.
I am convinced that the young care provider with dreads was my glimpse into the new heaven and new earth that John the Apostle was describing. He is wiping tears from their eyes and whistling death out of the room in a way as only one can who has no fear.
When you get a chance, take a moment to go outside of your comfort zone and say “thank you” to these companions who are showing us the way home. They are beautiful people whose work is often unnoticed, but for the exception of those who are the beneficiaries of their kindness.
I was a beneficiary of such kindness and it was a beautiful sight to see them do their work with such grace, compassion and beauty. Yes, they made me and my family’s life easier, but more importantly they put the joy of life back into my mother every day they came to her house. We were truly Blessed to have such individuals come into our life during our time of need.
Thank you for engaging and responding, Lorna–and for sharing your experience with our readers.
Jeff
I am walking home. We all are walking home. We are walking together. Our call is to serve each other on this journey to our Father. When we are called to journey with the broken people in the Body of Christ, we are challenged to do this with a smile on our face. Building trust and rapport with God’s most vulnerable is an intimate wonderful experience. Mother Teresa would hold the face of the dying, smile and tell them they would see their Creator today!!!
God has blessed us!!!
As always, Dick, thank you for sharing your insights with all of us.
Jeff
Nice article. About 5 years ago at this time, my mom was a couple of weeks away from dying. She had spent the fall in a locked memory-care unit, able to go out and about only if accompanied by people I approved. Hard time. But one of the best parts of the experience was my interactions with the young people working at the facility. I wish I had mastered the art of hiring as well as that facility had—the young people assisting mom, cleaning her mess, comforting her, and generally being patient were all amazing. No gripers in the group. All incredibly patient and caring. Being able to visit her in NC only occasionally, knowing that she had good support eased the experience considerably.
Dale,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, and for engaging the blog!!
Jeff
Thank you Jeff..
Your words are so true.
I volunteer at a lot of places. One of my most meaningful areas is Hospice and Care Centers/Nursing Homes.
Seeing these Angels ministering to basic needs often brings tears to my eyes.
They are Warriors.. God Bless their bravery and tender loving service..
Don,
Thank you for your comments and for engaging the blog. And, most importantly, thank you for the work you do with Hospice and other care providers!!
Jeff
It seems that when you get to be a certain age, my age to the point, the confrontation with and acknowledgement of death among family and friends is almost a daily occurrence. Your comments hit home, literally. That final walk has always been for me a supreme trial of faith. And I never can be sure of the outcome. Mortality is written into the human condition, but so too is the possibility of immortality, in the good we do that continues, long after we are here, to beget further good. That too is part of ‘walking home’ for there are lives that defeat death and redeem existence from tragedy. Thank you for reminding us of the challenges.
Wonderful insight, Alan!!
Thank you for sharing!
Jeff
Very nice article, and I understand what your saying. I also know the young man I believe you are referring too. He and others that do this work are very special to those they help and the family members .
Jeff
Thank you!!
Yes they are. I appreciate your having engaged the blog.
Jeff