The Christmas Present

The Christmas Present
          I was a senior in seminary in and had recently turned twenty six. The only course that stood in the way of me graduating was a course known as CPE (Clinical, Pastoral, Education). I would be working at St. Luke's hospital in Kansas City getting training on how to work with patients, their family, and hospital staff. It was a week before Christmas in the year 1983. I would have my first experience of being on call. I felt like a small person in big place where anything could happen. There was no turning back. My supervisor Sharon wished me well. I was on my own.

         I was beginning my rounds of checking out was going on at various units when I heard my pager. There was a message for the chaplain to please call the Intensive Care Unit. I was heading down the stairs at the time; "where was a phone"? "How do I even figure out how to get there (ICU)?" I searched for the keys given to me and went to the nearby chaplain office to use the phone. Everyone was long gone from the chaplain office by then. I was on my own.
"We need to have you at the ICU waiting room; a family is threatening to break the room apart. Please get here as soon as possible." I asked the caller the best way to get to the waiting room and off I went. (I wondered what good I was going to do.) I said a prayer to myself, hoping I would find out when I got there. I stopped by the nurse's station first to get the scoop about what the hell was going on. They let me know the family could not get a hold of their pastor and there young six year old daughter in a terminal condition. I entered the room and introduced myself. The room became silent. Turbulence gave way to calm. I now knew what it meant for Jesus to calm the storm.

          As I entered, loud weeping could be heard, near the door I entered. "Why is this happening to our daughter"? "How could God permit something like this to happen?"I had no ready answer and for the longest time settled in putting my arms around them giving them comfort and encouraging others to offer the same consoling to one another. The question was asked again and I answered: "God knows your hurt, God watched His son suffer and die?" As I look back it was the best I knew to say at the time. There was another hour of embracing people and letting people express their grief. At the end of the hour the dad came up to me: "Can you please go in hospital room our daughter is in and pray for her?"
         I entered the room and saw machines lined up trying to keep someone alive. What a beautiful little girl! I placed me hand in hers. I felt a tear creep down my right cheek. My first instinct to ask them what they wanted me to pray (that was what we were trained to do). I had been with the family and already knew what they were wanting. ("Lord be with Lana and family. We know that you have healed in the past and you can heal now. Take her by the hand and let your love for this girl bring us all closer together.")

          There would be more times of sharing. As the family calmed down they told me of the terminal nature of her illness. They had just bought presents for her. Their pastor finally showed up. It was like the changing of the guard. The family felt right at home with their own minister. They thanked me and I left. I wondered to myself about the hurt of the family. I found myself echoing in my head their own words: "Why did this have to happen to our daughter?” I did not know.

          I went to sleep at the hospital very heavy hearted that night. The family greeted me as we were both headed out of the hospital and thanked me profusely for being there. "Lana died, she is no longer suffering. She is in a better place. Thanks for being there for us”. I turned their words around and around in my head wondering what they meant. Then it dawned on me. The greatest present that Christmas was realizing how much Lana meant to this family. The greatest gifts are not to be found in stores. Rather they are found nestled in eternity with God.

*names have been changed.