Reflections on Hospice
The more “pastoral” work I get to encounter at Coastal Oaks, the more firsts I experience in the Gospel ministry. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to make my very first visit to a hospice care facility. My goal here is to be transparent, addressing some of the fears I had before hand, and summarizing my outlook and overall experience. You may find it helpful or insightful, but my goal is not to be inspirational – just to tell of my experience, and how God is shaping and changing me. Here is my story of hospice.
I visited yesterday a long-time member of Coastal Oaks Church who was receiving hospice care from Vista Care in Corpus Christi. Mr. Jack had been sick for several weeks, and recently the decision was made to move him to hospice because there was little to no change in the overall outlook of his health. Mr. Jack, for most of the 2 years we’ve been acquainted, was one of the most joyous, friendly, compassionate men I’ve ever met.
His grayed irish-cut beard just made him appear that much more a gentleman. Many Sundays he would be one of only 2-3 men to wear a suit coat to church – because that’s what you’re supposed to wear to church! He believed that, but he loved you unconditionally, even in your jeans, t-shirt, and sandals. My 4-year-old daughter, Aubrey, loved “Papa Jack”, and would always throw her arms around his legs to give him hugs when she saw him.
But since he had been moved to hospice, I had been hesitant to go see him. He was moved there about a week ago and his loving wife, Kathy, would keep us updated in the church office almost daily. Many days I perceived that as my connection to Jack’s situation. I didn’t love Jack any less…I just wasn’t excited about going into a hospice care facility.
I had several pre-conceived notions about hospice facilities, related back to nursing home experiences from years past and Hollywood. Maybe you can relate to these…
1. The smell.
2. The unexpected and weird: those poor people who’s mind was mostly or all gone. I could just see myself engrossed in a conversation with someone like this.
3. The compassion-less staff: those staff members who had to work, but really didn’t care to do their job well or be friendly in the least.
4. The sorrow: the cries of adults who have reverted to child-like behavior, wanting to do more than they’re capable of doing.
5. The uncertainty.
While these things certainly are not true for every special care facility, these were the pre-conceived notions I had going into this visit at Vista Care in Corpus Christi. And I experienced absolutely NONE of these yesterday, even a little. Vista Care was staffed with knowledgeable, caring, qualified nurses, there was nothing unexpected or weird, there was no sorrow or uncertainty, and there was no smell. I had a great visit with Mrs. Kathy, listening to her speak openly and honestly about his progress, and came away encouraged and enlightened.
So, here is what I am taking away from my first ever visit to a hospice care facility. I learned/re-learned these from yesterday’s experience:
1. Go where you’re called to go. // If your’e a pastor – in any form – you must always been keenly aware of your calling to be relational. You’re called to shepherd and care for your people. You’re called to go where they go, and be where they are. If you’re a student pastor and your peeps are at school, go there and be present. If you have others in the hospital, or in a specific care facility like hospice, go there too.
2. You truly don’t have all the answers. // Sometimes bad things happen to good people. Sometimes the “innocent” suffer for unknown reasons. When that happens, you would be wise, as I have discovered, to say as little as possible and just love on your people. Where was this little nugget of truth in Bible college?
3. Experiences of the past should not guide decisions of the future. // This is true in many aspects of life, but especially true of pastors/ministers. Every situation is precious and unique. Just be faithful to be caring and compassionate, and let God handle the rest.
Mr. Jack died yesterday evening, and it was a joyous home-coming for him, I have no doubt. By his own stated testimony and life, I have no doubt that he is right now experiencing the overwhelming presence of the Creator God like never before. His body isn’t broken any longer. He will certainly be missed around Coastal Oaks – he was a life-giver, with a contagious joyful spirit. And because of my visit with him yesterday, when I have the opportunity to visit others in hospice care in the future, I won’t hesitate to be there. You shouldn’t either.
