'Tis So Sweet

A very special patient of mine died last night. When I started visiting him almost four months ago, we immediately connected because we are both musicians (though he was a professional). He was also one of my few patients who did not have dementia, so developing a relationship was actually possible. We chatted about his music, tours, and performances, he provided an endless supply of corny jokes, and I started bringing a friend's ukulele and singing for him every week. I sang Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, and others from that era (which produced some of my favorite music) and he often sang or hummed along. Soon our visits became the highlights of both of our weeks.

I didn't bring up my faith with him for a while, and when I mentioned it the first time he was not interested. So I kept praying that God would open doors for Himself to be revealed. A month or two ago my patient (my musician guy as I called him to my family) began to get weaker and more painful. Sometimes it's easy to forget that hospice means that every patient is technically dying, but when a person begins showing signs of decline you remember again. I will never forget the moment when I realized that he wasn't going to be around much longer as we sang these lines together, to each other.

That's why, darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable, too.

At one point he mentioned to me that his mother used to sing the song In the Garden, so I jumped at the chance to bring back a sweet childhood memory and proclaim the promise of Jesus in the process. The knowledge of the presence of God is powerful, and I prayed that my guy would begin to realize that He was there for him, even if it'd never felt like it before.

I’d stay in the garden with Him,
Though the night around me be falling,
But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
His voice to me is calling. 

And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

Eventually I realized that he probably knew other traditional country hymns, so I started singing Leaning on the Everlasting Arms, 'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus, and Softly and Tenderly. He did, and we enjoyed these together.

What have I to dread, what have I to fear,
Leaning on the everlasting arms?
I have blessed peace with my Lord so near,
Leaning on the everlasting arms.

Last weekend I made an extra visit because I knew that any day could be his last. I stayed for a long time. He was very sleepy and completely bedbound. I sat by his bedside, holding his hand. I sang every song I could think of and prayed that the words would speak to him. When I sang Softly and Tenderly, I couldn't stop the tears.

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See on the portals He's waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me. 

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me; 

Oh, for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me!
Though we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me. 

Come home, come home,
You who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

I cried because I was losing a friend, and because I wanted so desperately for him to know the Friend that gives life. I asked my guy if I could pray for him, and he said he would like that.

I didn't want to pull myself away because I didn't want him to die alone. But finally I decided to go, and after I said goodbye, he called me back to his bed. He said, "I'm going to live now." I wasn't sure what he meant, and when I asked for clarification he repeated this several times.

Then, "I am at peace with God." The words I had been praying for.

I received a text from his nurse last night letting me know that he had breathed his last just moments after she arrived to visit him. I had processed his death during our visit last weekend, but it's such a weird feeling to know he's actually gone. I heard a song today and for a split second thought, "I can sing that one to him next week!" But I can hope that he is with the Father now, and maybe we can all sing together again one day.

I am so glad that he didn't have to die alone, thankful for the boldness and wisdom to minister through song, and humbled and awed by God's power and presence transcending fear and death.

’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take Him at His Word;
Just to rest upon His promise,
And to know, “Thus saith the Lord!”

Yes,’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just from sin and self to cease;
Just from Jesus simply taking
Life and rest, and joy and peace.