Sunrise.
"You know, all I really want to do is go to this place. Its a lovely place only accessible by 4 wheel drive. Its right outside town X. And I want to watch the sun rise for the last time. After that, I'm going to shoot myself. No one is going to find me. And its so much better than being buried in a hole. Only thing stopping me is that I don't have a 4 wheel drive."
True story.
What do you say to someone who tells you that? What do you say to a man whose last wish is to watch the sunrise in a little forgotten place only accessible by 4 wheel drive? What words of solace, what words of meaning can you give to a man who finds life utter impossible to bear? Who wants to end it all? Who just wants to die?
What troubles me even more is that the only thing stopping him is the absent 4 wheel drive. That means he probably already has the gun. What is to stop him from deciding that the sunrise will only be a pointless dream and to end his suffering there and then with a bullet through his skull?
As I saw him lying in bed, wheezing away, looking me in the eye, his hair gray and worn, his eyes wide and tired behind his big glasses and a rasping, hacking cough that breaks the silence, I searched for words to say.
And somehow, "Jesus is the answer" does not seem appropriate.
Somehow, to refer to a deity that does not seem real to everyday people does not seem relevant.
Somehow, to say, "God cares" seems like an insult, a spit-in-your-face, an evil cackle, a middle finger, a declaration of insanity.
This man does not need to know that God cares. Sure, He probably does, and yes, He does. But this man, curled up in the foetal position, does not need to know that.
He needs to know that people around him care. That people around him want to make a difference in his life. That people around him care for him. That they want him, probably against his wishes, to live.
Perhaps, that's what it means by the line "we are the salt and light of the world." We represent God. And Jesus. And things good, kind, holy, just, fair, loving, caring."
I hoped I made his day today.
***
I was once told by my tutor that being a health professional, we work in the business of life and death. What we do or what we DON'T do is sometimes the difference between the patient slowly creeping out the door on a walking frame with a cheery smile on their face or the persistent beep of a flatline and the emergency team rushing to someone's pale bedside. If you're lucky, you might even hear the shout of "CLEAR!" and the whoomp of the defribillator.
I've seen too many NFR (not for resuscitation forms) filled out in the negative today.
I, (insert name here) has agreed that in the event of cardiac arrest or pulmonary arrest, do not wished to be resuscitated.
(Signed on the dotted line.)
.............................
Too many of them.
True story.
What do you say to someone who tells you that? What do you say to a man whose last wish is to watch the sunrise in a little forgotten place only accessible by 4 wheel drive? What words of solace, what words of meaning can you give to a man who finds life utter impossible to bear? Who wants to end it all? Who just wants to die?
What troubles me even more is that the only thing stopping him is the absent 4 wheel drive. That means he probably already has the gun. What is to stop him from deciding that the sunrise will only be a pointless dream and to end his suffering there and then with a bullet through his skull?
As I saw him lying in bed, wheezing away, looking me in the eye, his hair gray and worn, his eyes wide and tired behind his big glasses and a rasping, hacking cough that breaks the silence, I searched for words to say.
And somehow, "Jesus is the answer" does not seem appropriate.
Somehow, to refer to a deity that does not seem real to everyday people does not seem relevant.
Somehow, to say, "God cares" seems like an insult, a spit-in-your-face, an evil cackle, a middle finger, a declaration of insanity.
This man does not need to know that God cares. Sure, He probably does, and yes, He does. But this man, curled up in the foetal position, does not need to know that.
He needs to know that people around him care. That people around him want to make a difference in his life. That people around him care for him. That they want him, probably against his wishes, to live.
Perhaps, that's what it means by the line "we are the salt and light of the world." We represent God. And Jesus. And things good, kind, holy, just, fair, loving, caring."
I hoped I made his day today.
***
I was once told by my tutor that being a health professional, we work in the business of life and death. What we do or what we DON'T do is sometimes the difference between the patient slowly creeping out the door on a walking frame with a cheery smile on their face or the persistent beep of a flatline and the emergency team rushing to someone's pale bedside. If you're lucky, you might even hear the shout of "CLEAR!" and the whoomp of the defribillator.
I've seen too many NFR (not for resuscitation forms) filled out in the negative today.
I, (insert name here) has agreed that in the event of cardiac arrest or pulmonary arrest, do not wished to be resuscitated.
(Signed on the dotted line.)
.............................
Too many of them.
posted by Poet at
7:51 PM
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