Quiet Moments In The Night

The hallway is dark and the place is quiet.  The wakeful moments of existence, looking different for each body here, have come to a quiet close and peaceful sleep pervades the atmosphere.  I quietly attend to the people, one by one, trying to remind myself that the brisk pace of the day shift is not welcome here in the night.  Night time is for rest, for the body, for the soul, for the spirit.  Much courage is required from these old souls to live.  They need their rest.  They need some peace.

The last gentle soul's eyes lit up when she saw me.  We have grown a loving friendship.  She tells me how good it is to see me and how glad she is that I've come back home.  Then she giggles and smiles, realizing that it is not my home that brings us together, but it is her home.  I am, though, for the moment, family to her.  I smile at the little slip up that she's spoken, knowing that someone who loves her, whether family by blood or by bond, will bring comfort to her as the night stretches before her.  And I do love her.

As I tend to the next soul in the next room, I am aware that I've woken her from her rest.  Oh that these medicines that heal and comfort and relieve pain could be given at another time, but the night may become unendurably uncomfortable if that were done.  It seems that being in peaceful rest must be more important.

I stand in the hallway, making my marks in the book, accounting for each step of care that I've taken.  I hear a gentle voice that causes me to stop all my markings and listen.

The room across the hall contains a quiet spirited gentleman who asks for little.  He has spent his life alone.  His days are now spent in his wheelchair, sitting in front of a cd player that plays old country tunes for most of the day.  His smiles are golden, his gratitude always present no matter how small the service.

It is this humble man that is causing me to stop and listen.  I strain to hear clearly, and stand outside his door long enough to hear....

..."thou wilt find a solace there".....

He's been singing to himself, lying in his bed, in the dark.  I heard his voice, gruff, quiet, not missing neither word nor note.

It's like he wanted to sing a blessing over his spirit this night.

Or perhaps he wanted to remind himself that he has a friend in Jesus.

Perhaps he was reminiscing in his spirit, remembering songs, promises, lessons of faith from long ago.

Perhaps these faith things were, even, still ARE the things that bring him peace as he settles to sleep at night.

I am an intruder tonight in his private moment of worship.  But the sound of his gruff voice, as he laid there and sang without fear or hesitation, has stuck with me all through my awake moments today.  I think perhaps I was invited to participate.  I think perhaps I was asked to hear, not only with my ears, but with my soul.  To listen to the assurance he sang with his mortal weakness and eternal strength.

Peace to you tonight.  Peace to him.  Peace to me.  Peace to us all.

Comments

  1. I love this. Literally love this! I feel like I was transported to that hallway and could feel a bit of that moment. Thanks, Maureen!

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  2. Incredible and beautiful. I found peace just reading your words and feeling your heart. Thank you for sharing.

    PJ

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  3. I'm already in bed and it's 12:03 am and I read your great post Maureen. I miss that place.

    Thanks for that image, and thanks for the night blessing.
    And thanks for working there.


    Night.

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  4. I so needed to read this tonight. Thank you for being there for those people and being here on this blog for us. It was a good reminder to me to "find my solace there" and made me whisper a prayer that when I reach that age I too will rest in His peace at the close of each day.

    Louise

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