Holy Ground

Clinical Day One 10/02/08: Long Term Care (Bethany at Silver Lake).

The woman, the patient I am specifically assigned to, who was said to be difficult. "A little fiesty." Eating lunch with her and talking about her family. I would meet her daughter tomorrow, she said, because she always comes on Fridays. Her showing me exactly how to "put on her eyebrows" so that I could do it when I came in the next morning. She had decided to trust me with the job. The look on her face when I told her I would come tomorrow at 6 am and that she would probably still be sleeping. The smile on her face, "I'll try and wake up early."

Changing the diaper of an old man. Peanut butter on his chin from lunch and an enormous genuine smile. Pictures of his family and a 10lb rainbow trout above his bed. He caught it and ate it and was proud of it. How he was still smiling and rattling on about that fish when I put on his pants and tucked him into bed. The smile I couldn't suppress as I shut the door and walked out into the hall.

Crouching on the floor holding an emesis basin under a lonely, elderly woman who kept repeating "I feel so awful. I feel so awful." Holding her hand and telling her that I heard her and I wouldn't leave until she felt better. Turning off the light and kneeling there until she fell asleep--looking so small and so frail. Wondering who would be there to hold her hand when she woke up.

Gently embracing the sobbing 85yr. old woman whose daughter had just died. Rocking rhythmically back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Providing warmth. Comfort. "She was such a good girl...such a good girl..."

The weary CNA confiding in me in the back room that she was tired. Drained I think was the exact word. Physically and emotionally drained. But reporting that at least she had "good Karma." The empty look on her face. Searching. The prayer under my breath, simply that she would "see Jesus."

Holy Ground. אדמה קדשׁ.

Moments where the presence of God is so unmistakable that I feel the incomprehensible urge to stop whatever I am doing and remove my sandals. Fall to my knees. Moments where everything seems to move in slow motion and I can almost hear the melody from heaven.

"Holy holy holy is the Lord Almighty.
Who was and is and is to come." ׁ

Moments where my heart is filled to the point of bursting. My skin feels like it's on fire. Words fail me. The knot in my throat contains the groan in my spirit.

When, in the depths of my spirit, arises an unshakable question born out of reverent awe and terror. I timidly ask, "Lord who are you? What is your name?"

היה אשׁר היה

"I am what I am...I will be what I will be."

Holy Ground.