(in flamboyant memory of my dear friend Cecilia Rothery)
I was apprehensive as I drove into the tunnel. My dear friend Cecilia was in the hospital and I was on my way to visit. What on earth was I going to say? How was I to encourage her? I didn't even know what to expect. Would she be on death’s doorstep? The last I heard she was gravely ill.
I prayed- “God give me the words to say. Help me to bring some small comfort, some small encouragement. Help me to bring your peace and your love.”
*********
I step out of the elevator and move off to the side, out of everybody's way. I need a moment to gather my thoughts. I’m clutching my Bible, but I don't even know which page to turn to. I tuck it back inside my bag. Barefoot, I make my way slowly, sheepishly, down the corridor, through the ward.
I have no idea what bed Cecilia is in. But rather than stop at the nurses’ station to ask, something inside tells me to keep walking. As I near the end of the corridor, I hear a sweet, sweet sound- a beautiful melody from a gorgeous mezzo-soprano. Following my ears, I round the corner into the hospital room to find my beautiful friend serenading her roast chicken lunch:
“Oooh what a beautiful saaaaalaaaaad…”
As my eyes adjust to the unexpected sight, my friend now seems a picture of health and happiness. But I know this is not the full story. I know that for every day of singing, there are 10 days more of intense suffering. Nevertheless, not one to miss a beat, she’s dolled up to the nines- wearing a hospital gown, but all made up and immaculately accessorised. She always seemed to eat pretty well too. After her roast dinner, she sends me down to the shop for a Magnum and a Sprite. Classic Cecilia!
Settling in beside her, she pulls out a pamphlet she’d been given by the Catholic chaplain at the hospital. Inside she reads me the most beautiful poems and scriptures, each affirming God’s presence always with those who are sick. She smiles a lot. At one point, in playful exasperation at something or other, she exclaims “Ah, shit on toast mate!”, in her thick Chilean accent. We laugh together. She is excited to have this day, to have this breath. She is free. She knows the truth that her beloved Heavenly Father is closer to her even than the breath she’s drawing into her lungs.
I don’t stay too long. I know these visits are very draining. But it’s also so very hard to say goodbye.
As I press the button to call the elevator, a profound truth dawns on me. Here I was afraid of what I would say. But in the end it was my friend- the one who was so unwell- who spoke peace and encouragement into my heart. It was she who had schooled me- in facing an uncertain future without fear, knowing for sure the presence of the Living God was drawing near to her in each moment.
In her living room, Cecilia has a beautiful little bronze plaque set in wood. It was a gift, I believe, from her neighbours, whom she loves dearly. The plaque has a big lion carved in bronze. Alongside the lion is a verse from the biblical book of Joshua:
Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid;
Do not be discouraged;
For the Lord your God is with you
wherever you go.
Joshua 1:9
These were God’s words to Joshua as he prepared to lead the Jewish people into the promised land after 40 years in the wilderness. To take the land, the people had to cross over the Jordan River, unsure of what they would find on the other side, trusting that the Lord their God was with them, even as they crossed over into the unknown.
Cecie has now crossed over her Jordan River into the unknown. As she did so, she was absolutely sure that the Lord her God was with her. And now God is not only with her, but she is also with God.
Amen.
Remarkably, I came across this song, called "Cecie's Lullaby", just a few weeks before she passed away. It gave me a tremendous sense of peace, knowing she was in capable hands:
Cecie's Lullaby- by Steffany Gretzinger, from the album The Undoing
I was apprehensive as I drove into the tunnel. My dear friend Cecilia was in the hospital and I was on my way to visit. What on earth was I going to say? How was I to encourage her? I didn't even know what to expect. Would she be on death’s doorstep? The last I heard she was gravely ill.
I prayed- “God give me the words to say. Help me to bring some small comfort, some small encouragement. Help me to bring your peace and your love.”
*********
I step out of the elevator and move off to the side, out of everybody's way. I need a moment to gather my thoughts. I’m clutching my Bible, but I don't even know which page to turn to. I tuck it back inside my bag. Barefoot, I make my way slowly, sheepishly, down the corridor, through the ward.
I have no idea what bed Cecilia is in. But rather than stop at the nurses’ station to ask, something inside tells me to keep walking. As I near the end of the corridor, I hear a sweet, sweet sound- a beautiful melody from a gorgeous mezzo-soprano. Following my ears, I round the corner into the hospital room to find my beautiful friend serenading her roast chicken lunch:
“Oooh what a beautiful saaaaalaaaaad…”
As my eyes adjust to the unexpected sight, my friend now seems a picture of health and happiness. But I know this is not the full story. I know that for every day of singing, there are 10 days more of intense suffering. Nevertheless, not one to miss a beat, she’s dolled up to the nines- wearing a hospital gown, but all made up and immaculately accessorised. She always seemed to eat pretty well too. After her roast dinner, she sends me down to the shop for a Magnum and a Sprite. Classic Cecilia!
Settling in beside her, she pulls out a pamphlet she’d been given by the Catholic chaplain at the hospital. Inside she reads me the most beautiful poems and scriptures, each affirming God’s presence always with those who are sick. She smiles a lot. At one point, in playful exasperation at something or other, she exclaims “Ah, shit on toast mate!”, in her thick Chilean accent. We laugh together. She is excited to have this day, to have this breath. She is free. She knows the truth that her beloved Heavenly Father is closer to her even than the breath she’s drawing into her lungs.
I don’t stay too long. I know these visits are very draining. But it’s also so very hard to say goodbye.
As I press the button to call the elevator, a profound truth dawns on me. Here I was afraid of what I would say. But in the end it was my friend- the one who was so unwell- who spoke peace and encouragement into my heart. It was she who had schooled me- in facing an uncertain future without fear, knowing for sure the presence of the Living God was drawing near to her in each moment.
In her living room, Cecilia has a beautiful little bronze plaque set in wood. It was a gift, I believe, from her neighbours, whom she loves dearly. The plaque has a big lion carved in bronze. Alongside the lion is a verse from the biblical book of Joshua:
Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid;
Do not be discouraged;
For the Lord your God is with you
wherever you go.
Joshua 1:9
These were God’s words to Joshua as he prepared to lead the Jewish people into the promised land after 40 years in the wilderness. To take the land, the people had to cross over the Jordan River, unsure of what they would find on the other side, trusting that the Lord their God was with them, even as they crossed over into the unknown.
Cecie has now crossed over her Jordan River into the unknown. As she did so, she was absolutely sure that the Lord her God was with her. And now God is not only with her, but she is also with God.
Amen.
Remarkably, I came across this song, called "Cecie's Lullaby", just a few weeks before she passed away. It gave me a tremendous sense of peace, knowing she was in capable hands:
Cecie's Lullaby- by Steffany Gretzinger, from the album The Undoing