Thursday, November 6, 2008

Dear God,

He was walking with his IV partner, the nurse following him. He was weak, peaked, but determined to make four laps around the hospital. I smiled and said, "You can do it! You're going to make it!" "I know I am." He said back to me.

Later I made a phone call in the corridor. The same man was on a gurney being pushed by a nurse. I moved to the side. He lifted his hand to take mine. The nurse stopped. He looked into my eyes perhaps looking for hope. Our hands clutched, I nodded and smiled again. "You'll be fine." I told him.

The human touch. Two strangers in a hospital hallway, holding hands. I remember the last time I held a hand like that. The man was also a stranger, in a primitive hospital in West Africa. We too bared our souls to one another. He lay dying. He could not speak English. I could not speak Twi. But something happened between us just like today.

Sometimes I am drawn to another for just a moment. Generally it is someone hurting, struggling in some way. I don't know what I have to offer but the human touch, a touch that is more than I can offer alone. I'd like to think I'm offering them your hand. My hand isn't worth much; yours is worth everything.

I prayed for both these men. I knew the condition of the one man. I knew his days were limited. I knew his death would be horrific. The other I did not know, but I felt led to connect. And so we did.

Great Physician,
Comforter and Friend,
you bring
your children together
in ways
I could never do.
Your love
is the touch
we long for.
We search
for hope
wherever we can
find it.
In hallways,
and corridors,
at home
and half way
around the world.
You always travel
the miles
bringing your people together.
Our hearts
are grateful.

Love, Andrea