A True Tale

This story is true. I am sharing it to shine a light on truth and hypocrisy. To reveal the difference between demonstrated behavior as opposed to that which is spoken. My hope in sharing this is that your heart would be stirred to examine your own self not to determine someone else’s righteousness or wrongfulness. I want to bring to our consciousness that our actions affect others in ways beyond our knowledge and it is our actions that speak the loudest regardless of what words we may say.  

A few weeks ago a friend posted a commentary on Facebook about what they referred to as hypocrisy in the church and it’s leaders. It was a railing accusation. I suggested what I believe was a way of reconciliation. What ensued after my comment can only be described as pitiful. My comment was rebuffed and then their  comments directed to me were vicious and purposed to inflict hurt. I wasn’t hurt because the comments were inaccurate and based on their perception  and deception. I initially responded  in  an attempt to state more clearly the reason for my comment being for reconciliation. However, the person who is considered a pastor in the organization they participate in continued with their attacks. At that point I concluded my participation because the dialogue had proven nonproductive. Their attack became so vile that a complete stranger in-boxed messaged me and encouraged me. I appreciated their sentiments basically stating this pastor is wrong! I had not only stopped engaging I was not following the comments any longer.

Now at the same time I was attempting to disengage from the uselessness on Facebook (all from making a suggestion) someone very dear to me was fighting for their life. I was in the midst of signing paperwork with hospice and dealing with medical decisions. It was extremely difficult to say the least. Apparently at some point the pastor for whatever reasons  deleted the entire post AFTER publicly stating every destructive thing they could think of. As I stated previously I had disengaged other than to delete each vicious comment they attempted to post on my page. Then they sent me a private inbox message basically explaining and justifying their behavior saying it was not their intent to be disrespectful.  I didn’t respond because to the private message. I can not begin to explain how irrelevant it was to me regardless of the critical situation at hand.  The next day after numerous non stop vile inbox messages from the pastor, I was forced to stop dealing with the life and death issue at hand and address the on-going childish rant. I was completely exhausted yet wholeheartedly aware of the hypocrisy at hand. I pray that in this moment you are aware as well.

The next day I went back to visit my loved one. There was a nurse feeding him a watered down version of oatmeal. He weakly said, hey, when I walked in which made me quite happy. I asked the nurse had he had his pain medication yet. She told me that she wasn’t his nurse and that she worked on another floor, but that he was her favorite patient and she had asked if she could feed him. I turned my head so that he wouldn’t see my tears. I knew in that moment that she was feeding him his last meal. She knew it as well.  I listened as she told him how much he was loved. She looked at a painting done by Jasmine signed by everyone in the family and read every name to him. She said, Donnie loves you, Precyous loves you, Jeremiah loves you, Jasmine loves you and Adoria is here. She loves you too. I witnessed the demonstration of the fruit of God’s Spirit in that woman. Kindness! When she left he lifted his hand for me to grasp but when I did he winced in pain. So I put my hand on a table so he could put his hand on mine. I talked to him softly. I knew it was too exhaustive for him to answer questions. At one point I put my face close to his because I couldn't hug him (it hurt him) and I told him I loved him. He gathered all his strength and said “I love you” and “I’m sorry.” I assured him there was no reason to be sorry. We cried together. I promised him I would take care of him. That he would have no pain and that we would all be okay.

During the entire visit there was a CNA (Cheryl) moving around working in his room. When she saw our exchange within a moment she quietly place a box of tissue in hands reach for me. When I looked up to thank her she gently smiled. Again demonstrated fruit of God’s own Spirit, gentleness.

As I left that visit I was in tears. I felt I would never hear his voice again. As I walked out the room a maintenance man that works there said to me as he pointed to the ceiling, God is….. I thought oh, he’s trying to be helpful so I said, yes, I know Jesus and tried to smile at him. The man followed me to the elevator and told me that he had worked there five years and had never seen anyone in as much pain as me. He then told me that only the power of God could help me. He then muttered the name Jesus. Well, my sorrow at that moment turned to outraged. I told the man that I had already told him that I know God.  I asked the man did he really think he was sharing the gospel (good news). I asked him if he thought that anything that he said was helpful. I said, you've  worked in a care facility for the elderly, sickly, dying and those recovering and see death daily and I am in the most pain? My uncle is dying, am I not suppose to sorrow? I had a few more choice words but to be completely honest I was so outdone by his complete stupidity I can’t remember. There was a man standing in the elevator. He said, “lady, I know how you feel. I lost my mother and best friend in the same week. And if one more person came up to  me and said Jesus or quoted a bible verse, there would have been another dead person that week.” Well, that did make me laugh.

Why am I sharing this? Because these are perfect examples of the ignorance of those that claim to know Jesus yet just know a name. They don’t know Him, just a name. Christ does not dwell within them. They are without God’s Spirit and yet think they can give life to others, but have no life within them to give. The nurse that feed him manifested Jesus! The CNA demonstrated Jesus. That fool saying His name didn’t know Him at all. Yeah, I said it! It’s the exact same thing people think about “Christians” everyday. And too often they are right!  

The next day Donnie and I visited. He wasn’t able to open his eyes or speak. The social worker said, it is believed that patients can still hear even when unable to answer. Donnie went in the room alone. Later on the way home Donnie told me he told our loved one that he would take care of me and the family and that we would be fine and that he could go.

That night at 1:00 am I woke up. I looked at the clock then attempted to go back to sleep. When I got up at 4:30am Donnie told me that the Care center had called. He had passed away at 1:00 am.

I made and received many calls that day. I had to call our children to inform them. The hospice social worker called to check on us and talked about her last visit with him. I then shared the conversation I had had with him. She told me I probably couldn’t understand the enormous effort it took for him to speak to me. I knew because I witnessed his entire body shake vehemently as he uttered his last words to me. I love you.

I told this tale as a lesson. We often hear the saying you never know what someone else is going through. Would the pastor have acted differently if they knew what I was dealing with at the time? I don’t know. But I do know that if Christ is in you, Christ is who will manifest. I am a Christian yet I can honestly say too many people that claim to be Christians do not bare the fruit of Christ. They talk a lot about a lot, mostly scriptures and what they think of Jesus.  However, they DO differently. Too often we are so busy trying to tell someone else about God we fail to examine ourselves. Or rather we fail to allow God to examine us.   

The loved one I have told you about is Bobby Rae Duncan. He was 75 years old. He became our beloved Uncle Bobby about five years ago. We choose each other. In my culture it is out of love and respect that one is called Uncle. Therefore, I asked would he be our Uncle Bobby. He was very much pleased with his title. He never married and had no children. But he was not without family because he had a family in us. I loved him. He told me that his later years were far better than his former. I pray that he rest in peace.