Ministry of Presence

Good Morning All,

The past few weeks have been a mixture of excitement, joy and sorrow. In addition to the attention paid to the ongoing needs of our church family and all the excitement of the recent changes in worship and programming around here, there didn’t seem to be enough time to share my reflections with you in the weekly Musings. During one those weeks I longed so to share with you the pain and the joy that filled the hospital waiting room outside the ICU when Johanna Martinez physically and spiritually could no longer hold on to receive a yet to be donated liver.

Johanna, you may recall, was the 24 year old niece of a Covenant member, Nora Martinez, who had moved back to Puerto Rico a few years ago. The family had recently returned to the area to enter the hospital to wait for Johanna’s second liver transplant. I was so proud of Covenant and the generosity and compassion that was shared as we helped the family settle in to what was thought to be their permanent relocation.

For 2 weeks, the family was filled with great hope for a successful transplant. But after a while, it became more evident that there was great cause for concern as Johanna grew weaker awaiting the donor liver. Her very life depended on it. When I arrived at the hospital, soon after knowing that Johanna was in grave danger, I realized that I needed to find ways to share the ministry of presence…simply being with people in times of crisis and pain. The ministry of presence allows one to be there and to communicate love and support, often times without having to say a word.

And in this case, it meant more to me than ever before, because of the language barrier between those of us, i.e. me, who speak very little Spanish and those who spoke very little English. And all the while, I was silently kicking myself for not yet taking time to learn conversational Spanish, at least beyond a few words of greeting. But God always makes a way out of no way. God plowed through that barrier and continued to surround me and others with very loving and supportive bi-lingual people.

The prayers, the singing, the tears, the touching, the smoothing back of her hair…all gentle ways of showing love, of letting go, of attempting to say goodbye to a daughter, a wife, a mother of 2 year old Keysha, a niece and a good friend…trusting and believing with all our hearts in the promise of sharing in Christ’s resurrection; the promise that God is there to receive each one of us back into life everlasting; life filled with joy in ways we cannot begin to imagine.

As the time grew nearer for Johanna to breathe her last earthly breath and be filled with the breath of God, a sense of peace; a sense of well-being…a sense that “all is well…” filled the room. There was nothing else left for loving hands to do than to release her into God’s presence.

As I prepared to leave the family, I so desperately wanted to speak a word of hope; a word of comfort to Johanna’s parents, who knew so little English. I asked one of the family friends to go with me into the hallway and teach me how to say…”Thanks be to God; your hope is in Christ; may God bless you and keep you...” In a few moments, I composed myself and approached the parents. With hands clasped, our eyes met and I was able to speak through their tears, as we hugged one another and said goodbye. God truly blessed that grace-filled moment and they understood one humble pastor’s bumbling attempt to share the feelings of her heart amid all their pain…God is so good…
Blessings, Joanne