The Hallowed Ground of the Hospital

Hospitals feel like sacred ground to me. The people that walk the halls are there to hope, heal, or help. It is a place of pain, but also a place of peace. In one building made of bricks there is life being brought into the world, and life leaving for a better one. I have experienced both events in the same location. Just a few levels away from where Henry was born a few years ago, Charles died. The picture above is of Charles holding Henry right after he was born. It was also the same hospital where Henry had his recent surgery.

As I sat in the lobby with my mom, waiting for Henry to complete his surgery, I could really sense the spirit of the place. I watched as people went in and out of the front doors, and I could not help but wonder why they were there. It was not too long ago that I walked into the hospital whole, and left a widow, all in the same day. You never know what tragedies people are facing as they walk those hospital halls. You never know the burden they carry, or the pain they are feeling. I watched as missionaries and ministers raced in and out of the doors, to offer blessings and comfort. I watched tired and weary nurses resting in a chair for a moment. I watched new mothers leaving for home with their new babies. I saw people with flowers and balloons to offer hope and cheer. My heart ached for all those who were there. But it was also so interesting to pause a moment and see this aspect of humanity... perhaps the best of humanity.

Because I was there for a few days, I had some interesting experiences while at the hospital...

I was going out to my car to grab some items I needed. I was taking the elevator down to the first floor. At one point on the way down, the doors of the elevator opened. A little girl who clearly had some extra life challenges ripped away from her mother's arms, and came charging towards me. She put both of her hands out, and with force she grabbed onto my long hair and sort of tugged at it -- like she wanted to play with it. I was a little shocked -- it hurt to be grabbed in such a way -- but my reaction surprised me. I took my hands and put them on her face and said, "Hello, beautiful girl." Her mother, who was horrified, just looked at me and said, "Thank you." I then asked the girl's name and we had a pleasant ride down the rest of the way. I am glad the little girl chose me to greet in such a way. There was something in me that saw something in her, that was angelic and pure. I had been tugged on by an angel.

Another interesting moment occurred while in the kitchen, in the Pediatric Unit. I was just warming up some food for Henry in the microwave, and a few people came in to grab some things. There was a father, and a little girl who was in a hospital gown, and she had clearly just had surgery. The little girl asked me why we were there, and I told her about Henry. I talked with her and her father about why she was there, and she was having surgery on her stomach, and would be staying in the hospital for a long while. She asked me if she could eat the macaroni I was making for Henry, but her dad had to remind her she was not allowed to eat food just yet. She came right over to the macaroni and offered to stir it, and she stuck her face in it to smell it. I am sure she was so hungry, poor thing. Her father gathered his things, and hauled her away in a red wagon.

There was another older lady in the kitchen, and I asked her why she was there. She said her grandson had been there for awhile, and he was waiting for a heart and lung transplant. He had been sick for a long time, and waiting for a long time... and his chances are not very good at living a long and healthy life. We immediately started talking about faith, and trusting God and His plan. We were not from the same religion, but that hardly mattered. I asked her grandson's name and told her I would pray for him. She said she would do the same for Henry. There was a great sense of camaraderie there in the hospital kitchen. All who entered were weary soldiers fighting the good fight, to protect and heal their family and loved ones.

Another memorable moment happened in the middle of the night. I was trying to sleep on the chair next to Henry's bed, and for some of the night I actually did sleep, and hard. I recall at one point I woke-up to a whispering voice. I looked up in the darkness to see who was over by Henry, and I could not tell if it was a nurse, or someone else. It felt like there was an angel in the room, comforting Henry while I slept. I felt that whether the angel was on this side of the veil, or the other, it really didn't matter. I was so comforted in that moment that I felt no need to move, but I could rest easy and peacefully.

I walked hallowed ground for a few days. My heart expanded to a new level of love and understanding. Henry was not the only one being operated on -- I was too. I will keep the memories and lessons in my heart, always.