You say have no faith?
Love--and faith will come.
You say you are sad?
Love--and joy will come.
You say you are alone?
Love--and you will break our of solitude.
You say you are in hell?
Love--and you will find yourself in heaven.
Heaven is love."
--Carlo Carretto
Burden bearing. It’s a noble profession. Lately we’ve become acquainted with burden bearing up close and personal. My wife’s Aunt was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s over a year ago. Slowly she was drifting away from us and we had to do something. First we tried home health care hoping she could stay at home. After several months the Doctor said it was time to move her. So we found a facility close to us and not long after she moved in she tried to walk away and so we had to move her again. In the second facility she did get out the door and they found her on a busy highway trying to get home. So—we had to find yet another place and the third facility was fine until she began to fall and fall and fall. First she broke her arm. Then she broke her hip and landed into a fourth facility for physical therapy. She has gone downhill fast. But she still knows us and brightens up when we come into her room. She is much better but still cannot walk and continues to try.
What does this has to do with burden bearing? Everything. Beginning with home health care and moving through all four facilities—we have been amazed at the genuine love and quality of care that she has experienced from those that worked there. When she was still at home her caretaker cooked her favorite meals, checked on her after she had gone home at night and cared for her as if she was a member of her family. After we moved her to our town this woman still called long-distance to find out how she was doing. She and others went far beyond the call of duty.
In all four facilities—most of those that worked there reached out and did all they could to help. They knew her name and they would spend time talking to her. She loved them and they loved her. These folk have a hard job. It’s messy never-a-break-business. Some in a pinch even work twelve-hour shifts. Most are African-American. Most of them make little money. Some are divorced and many bring with them their own personal problems. Aging parents, never enough money—worries about foreclosures and children. Yet—some drive through the early morning hours and spend all days bearing someone else’s burden. Often it is a thankless task. Tending to difficult patients, dealing with irate family members, washing old uncooperative bodies. They change diapers continually and have to be alert at all times. Some feed the patients. Others sit down and listen to some old woman or man spin dreams which may or may not be true. It is hard business when a little old lady sits by the door day after day with her suitcase thinking her son will come and take her home. Some curse and refuse to let black folks into their rooms. Others simply sit in the television room staring blankly at the screen.
I don’t know how they do it, these burden bearers. I do know that Jesus said on more than one occasion: “As you do it unto the least of these—you do it unto me...” And I really think moving amid the messes and spills these helpers really are bearing somebody’s burden whether they know it or not. And these, great unappreciated heroes—really are the stuff of the kingdom of God
Roger, Thanks for describing so well what I witnessed during my years as a hospice chaplain. A significant number of our hospice patients were in nursing homes, so we visited them there as if that were their home.
ReplyDeleteOn each hospice team, there are nursing assistants/home health aides who bathe the patients and provide important personal care. Patients often develop a close relationship with the home health aides who visit in their homes 2 or 3 times a week providing intimate care and much emotional/spiritual support. I have had home health aides come to me asking if their response was a helpful one to a patient who shared a personal problem or spiritual concern. I was continually amazed with the wisdom that these hourly workers brought to their work. This wisdom often came from their own struggles throughout lives of hardship. One day in a hospice gathering where the home health aides were being honored, I said, "If God came into our place today, God might turn the pay scale upside down. Administrators and chaplains (my role) would probably be on the bottom and you home health aides would be on the top!" I can still see those home health aides standing up and cheering.