| It's a sunny
autumn day. The light of the morning sun is shining
through the windows of an intensive care unit into patient
rooms filled with IV stands and ventilators and heart
monitors. In one room, the light reveals the jaundiced
face of a 45-year-old teacher dying of liver failure.
Next door, an ashen-faced 62-year-old grandfather
needs a new heart. Three doors down, the light falls
on the face of a 27-year-old mother who gasps for breath
with ruined lungs.
None of them has walked in the light for weeks.
They are doing all they can just to live another day.
They are waiting for a gift. It is a priceless
gift. It is priceless because of what it will give them
– new life and health and time with their families –
and also because of what it costs – the life of someone
else. How do you pray for a new heart when you know
that it comes from someone else's death?
In another hospital, a family grieves. Someone
they love has died and the autumn sunlight is swallowed
in darkness.
Someone tells them of the possibility of donating
their loved one's organs. They say it would be just
like their loved one to want to help someone else. They
talk about sparing some other family the pain that they
are experiencing. So they choose to give the priceless
gift to nameless strangers.
A 45-year-old teacher receives a liver, a 62-year-old
grandfather receives a heart, and a 27-year-old mother
receives new lungs. They all pray for a grieving family
they may never know.
As a hospital chaplain, I have been with all of
these people more times than I can count. It is a miracle
for those who were dying, and also a miracle for those
who give. What a profound and wonderful miracle. What
a parable of grace.
— Chaplain Joel De Fehr |