The Miracle of Death

This past week, I was honored and humbled to share a few moments with a precious woman in her last days. Singing to her, stroking her hair, praying over her, and simply being in her presence was an honor. After I left her, I was filled with peace, assurance, and a sense of wonder. After hearing of her passing the next day, I was rejoicing for her while praying for her loved ones in their grief.

This encounter brought to mind something I had written while working in the senior living industry a few years back.

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The Miracle of Death

Friday, October 5, 2012

The miracle of life is so powerful and impacting. I have been extremely blessed to witness the birth of my own four children, three grandchildren, and a few other babies throughout my life. A mother goes through a lot to have a baby, to say the least; helping her through this process is an honor and takes a lot of patience, too. In awe, I have watched these newborn babies push their way into the world, inhale their first breath, wriggle their tiny fingers and limbs, open their mouths, and let out their first sounds. Yes, in that moment, their presence is made known, and they are most certainly the center of everyone’s attention as they are ushered into this world.

Soon after, this new baby is swaddled, touched, stroked, and held so close. They have suddenly become a part of a family, community, and this world. Ahead of them is a life journey of being cared for, and caring for others, of choices, challenges, opportunities, and eventually for many once again being cared for by others in some way.

On a Friday in October, I was visiting an assisted living community where I had spent time sharing and singing with residents. As I was on my way out, I happened to walk by a room where Anne (not her real name) lay in her bed in her room alone. One could hear her rattled breathing in the hallway, and each attendant was aware that she would not recover from this state. Without hesitation, I asked the lead staff if I could go sing for her and if hymns were appropriate.

Within moments I was at her bedside singing and reading along to the CD “Hope for The Journey”. A volunteer stroked her hair; the visiting chaplain came in to pray over her, and the director placed cool clothes on her sweating brow. We were there comforting, touching, loving, and praying over her through her difficult journey. All of us were coaching her through her final transition of life.

My mind was taken back to the hours of coaching and watching others journey through labor and birth. And how this moment was so very much like that one of birth, on the other side of life, now comforting one into death. As we were singing “I’d Rather Have Jesus,” ‘Anne’ was having more difficulty; we remained calm and assured her of our presence; she turned to look into my eyes as I continued to sing gently to her. And then, at the end of the song, she quietly and peacefully turned her head and breathed her last breath. 

I am so very honored and blessed to have been there to witness ‘Anne’s’ final journey in this life. Her daughter had hoped to arrive in time to say goodbye; her family would be arriving soon to find their mother at peace. I wrote a letter detailing her final journey and how we comforted and stayed by her side, that she was never alone, and how many gathered in her room to be with her.

For me, this journey was very close and personal as my mother passed away just seven months prior. I had just visited with her and saw that she had changed significantly since my last visit. It was apparent that she had less than a few days left to live.  I told her I would return shortly after her care conference to comfort her, sing to her, and be with her. As I left the room, she looked up, and I thought to myself that she was looking at angels or heaven. Just a few minutes later, while we were discussing her care and end-of-life issues, she passed away alone. I am thankful for the time I had with her just moments before her passing, but had I known how soon it might be, I would have stayed by her side. But that was not to be. Being there for ‘Anne’s’ daughter gave me peace and comfort, as I was there for her, just as I would have been for my mother.

Between that first breath and the last is a life that may hold more information than one could fill a novel or a moment that slipped away too fast. I have often pondered what legacy I would choose to leave behind, what, if any, difference I might make in the lives of others, and how I could be a part of helping others through that journey toward the end of their life. I had prayed such a prayer just a few days before my encounter with ‘Anne’.

I am now inclined to consider life as three chapters or journeys. One is the journey that leads to the miracle of birth, two is the journey of one’s life lived, and three culminates in the journey of death, which for many is new life as one enters the kingdom of heaven. For me, this final chapter has become the Miracle of Death in the sense that witnessing one leave this physical life and move into the presence of Jesus is indeed a miracle to behold.

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Today

On March 10, 2021, I experienced my husband’s third journey, the Miracle of Death. In the days leading up to his last breath, he was no longer writhing in pain, confused, or frustrated. As I sat at his side and often on the bed with him in our private room at Circle of Life, I knew his life here would end soon. And in some way, the previous experiences I had prepared me for the actuality of death. Tenderly stroking his arm and head, singing to him, praying over him, telling him I would be okay. I thanked him for taking such good care of all of us, loving God and sharing God’s word with us, laughing with us, and giving us hope in this world without him. As I lay my head on his chest, his labored breathing slowed and then stopped; his heartbeat became weak, and then not a sound from his chest. His third chapter of life was over; he was in the presence of Jesus. The Miracle of Death was there in my arms and filling my heart.

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None of us know the day or time of our death or our loved ones. But we do know that we have time now to share the love of Christ for the living and those who are closer to death than birth. I am grateful that God allowed me to experience a few moments with this precious lady, which led me to share with you today. It has reminded me to be ready, willing, praying, and present when able for others as they experience their third journey of life.

I hope you have been encouraged in some way through my thoughts today. Thank you for sharing in my journey,

Pati

Psalm 73:26
My flesh and my heart may fail,
    but God is the strength of my heart
    and my portion forever.

Ecclesiastes 3:1,2
There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:
 a time to be born and a time to die,…