In her ninety’s and near death, Elizabeth was thin, frail, and completely unaware that I was with her in the room to which she had called home for many years. I was in graduate school and chose to do my internship at a local Hospice agency. Elizabeth was one of many clients that I was asked to go visit, provide support to, offer counsel if necessary, or offer a hand to hold. I nudged her hand, introduced myself, and whispered that I was there to sit with her a while. She lay there, eyes shut, and not responsive to my presence. I sat back in the chair next to her bed, looked around a bit, and watched her in silence.
Breath in…breath out…breath in….breath out…then…..Eyes open wide, arms reaching out to the Heavens, and with a strong voice, she declared,
“Oh, the trees. The trees. They are beautiful. The streets. They are golden…and the music. The beautiful music….it’s the most beautiful music I’ve heard. Yes…yes, I see her. I don’t know her, but I will see her again.”
I sat there frozen in my chair. It is not that I did not move. It is that I could not move. I watched and listened to her as she spoke out loud. I felt peaceful, and in that moment, I knew that I was witness to a celestial exchange. I was partly in disbelief, but mostly in pure belief that I was allowed to hear a vision of Heaven.
As soon as she was through speaking, she went back to the slow, labored breathing to which I initially watched her do. I too felt as though I could move around, and raised up in the chair, grabbed her hand, and just held it in silence for the remainder of the hour that I was there. As my time with her drew to a close, I gently got up, leaned over her and said “I’m leaving for now. Thank you for this time together.” As I exited the room, I looked back once more at the frail woman lying in the bed to which her soul would escape to Heaven.
As I walked down the halls of the nursing home, I felt elation mixed with emotion and humility. I kept hanging on to her words that described a Heaven to which my mind could only begin to imagine. I also clung to the part of the conversation that seemed to include me. I had never met Elizabeth before, and had never even stepped foot in that particular nursing home. I did not even think she noticed me. To my amazement, I realized that I was given a glimpse of the promise of eternal life.
I thought about this experience for many days after I visited her, and heard that she lasted about seventy-two hours after our visit, and died a peaceful death. I never told anyone at the agency about my experience. I don’t know why. Perhaps, I was worried that they would try to apply a medical reason for her words. Instead, I told those close to me.
While I had similar experiences with the elderly population I worked with, this experience definitely was different from the others. I witnessed something not of this Earth. My presence with her was not random. I felt as though I had been invited into a private conversation between a dying Believer and the One True Mighty Father.
It has been nearly thirteen years since this experience; still yet, here I am writing about it. Thirteen years ago, I was barely clinging on to the faith of my childhood. I had just started going back to church. My heart was still compounded by confusion of past trauma, regrets, and an unknown future. I was not yet married, not a parent, and not even sure of the path to which I would walk down. Sitting here now, a mother to three children, a wife, a professional in child welfare, and a Believer in Jesus Christ, I am mightily aware and thankful for this experience with the sweet soul whose room I stumbled into as a graduate student.
It seems Eternity has been on my mind and heart lately. Of all the things spoken of in Scripture, a life Eternal is by far the most incredible promise of all. Perhaps it is the wailing of the world that is happening, or the yearning of my own heart to draw closer to the Lord, but as of late, my thoughts have been pressed on towards our Heavenly Home.
I believe that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, and through Him, we have salvation. I am not ashamed or embarrassed to say this. I am not less intelligent, naive, or intolerant. I am a friend, daughter, sister, wife, mother, stranger, and acquaintance.
I am the person who messes up, or sometimes, gets it just right. I am the one who overlooks others, or sometimes, bends down on knees for total strangers. I have a temper, a sense of humor, a serious side, and a quiet side. I am strong. I am weak. I am vulnerable at times, and completely unbreakable at others. I am a Christian.
Through reading of the Word, and the blessed experience of the one described above, I fully believe in a life Eternal.
Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb 2 down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. 3 No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. 4 They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. 5 There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. -Revelation 22:1-5
One thought on “a life Eternal”
Hi there, As a Hospice volunteer for several years, I have witnessed similar conversations. Sometimes, it would be tough to get up from my ordinary, full life to go sit quietly by the bedside of someone I’d never met, often someone who was within days or hours of death. And most times, I left feeling enriched – blessed – beyond anything I expected or deserved. Your glimpse into something/somewhere else reminds me of that quiet high, the kind you get from being in the middle of the place you’re supposed to be at exactly the right time.