Sensing God's Presence

I know God is present at all times and in all places.

Cognitively, I have no disputes about this.  However, I also know I neither practice as though He is present at all times, nor do I sense that presence at all times.  One of the goals of the spiritual life is to come to a place where one's awareness matches this reality.  I'm working on it.

There are times when I don't have to work too hard, however.  In fact, there is a certain time when I have sensed God's presence time and again, over and over--when I take Holy Communion to a person who is beginning that journey toward eternal life.

I wrote about such an encounter here:

http://countrypreacherscorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/saying-goodby-to-edna.html

Yesterday, I had another.

Bob and Dale have been married over 60 years.  They were married at 16 and have endured much in those years together.  Their greatest challenge has started.  Roughly three months ago, Bob was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He chose not to receive any treatments and let nature run its course.  Bob already has COPD and is weakened by a very bad back.  Chemo would have only extended his life by making it more miserable.  Faced with quality versus quantity, Bob chose quality.

Unfortunately, a few weeks later, he fell and broke his hip.  Surgery was performed, and he was moved to a rehab facility.  Bob's body does not react well to anesthesia, so he developed sundowner's syndrome.  This made things very unpleasant for Dale, but she stuck with him. 

I visited Bob right before Christmas, and he was actually looking and acting very good.  But yesterday, it was evident that things had changed.  He had endured a rough go for a couple of weeks including having a massive intestinal bout.  Even as we sat and visited, his insides weren't all back together.  He tried to eat a little bit of lunch only to have to go to the restroom moments later and vomit.

His daughter informed me this was the process of the cancer spreading.  It would move to his throat and esophagus and then to his brain.  They would be moving him today to a different facility--a hospice facility.

Sensing that this would be an important visit, I had brought my communion kit along with me.  After Bob finished in the restroom, the nurse left to get him something to settle his stomach.  As we waited, we visited and I informed the group that I had brought Holy Communion should they like to take it.  They readily agreed.

Of course, some of my earthiness came out at that moment.  I looked at Bob and said, "We'll wait for the nurse to get back and give you your medicine.  Let's let your stomach settle a minute.  We don't want you up-chucking Jesus."

That caused a round of laughter. 

After Bob received his medication, I prepared the meal.  My faith is not mature enough that I believe I can offer prayers that will drive cancer out of people.  I have a ways to grow.  I cannot offer someone restoration of health as the apostles once did, but I can offer Jesus.  And as we sat in that room gathered around a make-shift altar, I sensed His presence.  It was strong.  It was palpable.  We entered into another reality of time as bread and wine became His body and blood. 

We ate.  We drank.  We prayed.  And once the meal was over, it was time for me to head out.  I offered them my services at their need.  Perhaps we will get another opportunity to dine and feast with Jesus before Bob's earthly journey comes to an end.  I don't know.  Sometimes cancer moves very rapidly.  But that cancer won't have the last word.  God will.  Of that, I have no doubt.