A few weeks ago I was in an emergency room with a friend of mine who was my missionary companion. As missionaries
for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we are supposed to stay
with our companion at all times. He was in some serious pain, and they were
running tests to find out what was going on with him. As some of these
tests were pretty serious, I was asked to stand out in the hallway outside the
door, doing my best to stay as close as I could in the situation we were in. We
were in the hospital for most of that day, somewhere around 14-15 hours. Alone
time is something you don't get a lot of as a missionary; but as I spent a good
part of those 14 hours standing or sitting in a hallway, alone, I had a lot of
time to think, read the scriptures, and watch the happenings and bustle of the Emergency Room. I have never needed to go to an ER before then,
so I was captivated watching the diverse variety of people coming in and out,
bringing with them a host of seemingly endless problems and concerns. Every so
often a team of paramedics would arrive with an ambulance, burst through the
door, and move with practiced efficiency as they went about their duty of
maintaining life.
Then something happened that
forever changed my outlook on life. During my stay there in the hallways of
that hospital, I watched as two people left this life. I had seen death before,
but never in this setting. As I watched these two individuals slip from
mortality, I could see the effect of their departure on those around them.
The
first person was an older woman, who appeared to be on a DNR (Do Not
Resuscitate) basis. As the heart rate monitor flat-lined, several nurses rushed
to the room only to quietly exit a few moments later to give the small group of
what must have been loved ones and friends that stood near the bed their
privacy; their heads bowed in quiet reverence as they shed tears of
grief.
The second was a young boy,
probably no older than 6 or 7. As his small form went limp and still, I watched
a young couple who must have been his parents slip into a desperation-fueled
frenzy of sorrow. The mother fell to her knees, screaming, desperately trying
to wake her son from his final rest. His father turned and begged the doctors
and nurses who stood nearby to do something, anything to bring him back. The
doctor confessed that there was nothing that he or anyone else could do.
Though the older woman appeared
to have been ill for a while and her passing seemed to be more expected than
the young boy's, the loss of a loved one is always difficult. When that loved
one is a child, it can be one of the most tragic things that happens here on
this earth. But why was there such a difference in the reactions of these
families? As I observed and thought about it more and more,
some realizations came to me. The parents of the young boy had no hope. To
them, their son was gone forever. As they watched him slip away, all their hopes
and dreams went with him; and they were left with nothing but their regrets and
their pain. As I watched them from a distance, I too started to feel that pain.
That crushing, soul-tearing, sense of vulnerability.
The other group, though
they too were mourning, had a… light about them. They had hope. They knew that
death was not the end of life, but yet another step in the path our Father in
Heaven has established for us. Through the darkness of the sorrow in their
hearts, the glorious light of hope burst into a brighter day. That hope is what
keeps us going when there appears to be no way to continue, what saves us from
drowning in our misery and gives us the energy and power to overcome.
That hope is found in Christ,
“our Saviour, [the] Lord Jesus Christ [who] is our hope" (1 Timothy 1:1).
Through Him, all our trials can be overcome. Death, sin, and hell itself were
defeated by our Heavenly King. Because of His atoning sacrifice, we can have
hope. The perfect love of Christ enables us to endure the trials and challenges
we face in this life, and to do so with the knowledge and assurance that we
will be with the ones we love again.
As this new year commences, may we all
remember the cry of the angels to the shepherds: “Fear not: for, behold, I
bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you
is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord…
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
(Luke 2:10-11, 14) God be thanked for the glorious gift of His Son!
Elder Duvall is a full-time LDS
missionary serving in the Texas Houston Mission but originally hails from Cache
Valley in Northern Utah.
