Visited a Man in his Final minutes of Consciousness
Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Unsplash
When my wife and I walked into the room, he was on a steady morphine drip to dull the pain, but still lucid and able to wheeze out responses to questions. My wife had known him all her life, and I for decades. He had always been a cheerful, likeable and good-hearted man, but now he lay on the edge of eternity after long months of a losing battle with cancer.
Friends and relatives filled a large hospital room specially furnished for loved ones to sit with those in their final hours of life, so for the next hour and a half, I relaxed in a stuffed chair off to the side and listened to the people around the bed trying to cheer him up with small talk of no significance. As the hours went by, I marvelled at how people could waste the final, priceless hours of a man’s time in this world with such meaningless trivialities, as if in denial of his imminent passing. I prayed that, somehow, God would arrange for an opportunity to talk with him about the hereafter.
Towards evening, the last of his friends left, leaving only Patti and I in the now-silent room, finally alone with the dying man. As I approached the bed I sent up a quick, silent prayer for divine guidance as to what to say, knowing every minute of that man’s time was now priceless.
As I sat down in the chair beside him, before I could say anything, he began to cry and sobbed in desperation, “Why were they talking about these things? I wanted to talk about God!”
“As I sat down in the chair beside him, before I could say anything, he began to cry and sobbed in desperation, “Why were they talking about these things? I wanted to talk about God!””
He was an unusually good man, but I would not have described him as one who came across to other people as religious. But with that cry of helplessness, it was startlingly clear to me that as the last minutes of his life trickled away, everything that had been talked about for the past hour and a half was meaningless to him. Now, only God and his own eternal destiny was of importance to him.
Patti held his hand as I slowly read through the 23rd Psalm – my favourite. Especially poignant was the part about the Good Shepherd being with us as we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. When I finished, I explained who the Good Shepherd is, and the importance of totally committing ourselves into his hands for salvation and eternal life.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, he began to pray aloud. It was difficult to understand most of what he said as he, weeping, gasped out his prayer, but what I did clearly catch is, “You are the only way, Lord! You are the only way!” It was one of the most sincere, intense, and heart-felt prayers I have ever heard in my life.
When the dying man finished his prayer, Patti prayed for him, then I. We then tiptoed out of the room as he fell peacefully asleep. He seemed at rest now. Those were his last moments of lucidity. He passed into eternity the next day.
It was about an hour’s drive back home as I thought about how valuable it is to spend time with someone in their final hours of life. Laying at the door of death has a singular way of clarifying exactly what is of ultimate importance. Attending the death of a person stimulates sober thought, and a re-adjustment of one’s own priorities. In the end, life is so short. We are born, we blink, and it is over. A century or two later, our names are forgotten. We were born for eternity, not for this fleeting life. In this self-focussed society, so totally living for the present, the words of Socrates are a warning and reminder …
‘If the soul is immortal, it demands our care not only for that part of time which we call life, but for all time. And indeed it would seem now that it will be extremely dangerous to neglect it.’ (1)
or as Jesus said …
“For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (2)
One of my favourite passages in the Bible is Psalm 23, especially these words …
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want … yes, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me ... (3)
If you would like to interact anonymously with an online mentor about these things, you may do so here.
References:
Phaedo, Plato.
Cross posted on The Life.
