June 21, 2012
Hospice
Since the first of
the year I’ve had four family members admitted to Hospice. It’s interesting to
me that none of them thought it was time for them to make such a decision.
Apparently we don’t always see things clearly for ourselves and in order to
fully accept our situation it takes someone in authority to tell us that all of
our options have been exhausted. From Mount Nebo God showed Moses all the
Promised Land and then told Moses, “This
is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when I said, ‘I will
give it to your descendants.’ I have let you see it with your eyes, but you
will not cross over into it.” (Deut 34:4 NIV) Moses was 120 years old,
however his eyes were not weak, nor was his strength gone. I can imagine Moses
thinking, “Really. It’s time for me to be
in hospice?”
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1 comment:
Gail;
-----Countless times I would have entered myself into hospice had I not so many responsibilities and good people emotionally attached to me. This was not because my health was failing or such, but just because I am such an emotional weakling. “OK, Lord, my foot’s caught in a trap again. This is a good day to die. Let’s roll!” But the response I suppose He delivered through my emotions was always, “Come on kid, tough it up. There’s more road to go and row to hoe. Rest half a minute then to your feet! Your emotions need a little accomplishment today.”
-----Moses peeved God when striking up water from the rock, so he got to die before his health quit. I would be sad for these people who don’t understand being moved into a hospice at not their own choosing. If they have the capability and desire to care for themselves, then what rock did they strike twice? Accomplishing even the little tasks required for your own survival is emotionally invigorating and good for the health. As for me, for other reasons I relate to their response. I don’t want to go to a hospice even if my health fails. I want to wander a ways up Pelton Draw, crawl under a good sage bush and just watch the bugs and feel the wind until I’m over and the coyotes are fed.
Love you all,
Steve Corey
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