"Do not let your hearts be troubled (distressed, agitated). You believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely on God; believe in and adhere to and trust in and rely also on Me.  In My Father’s house there are many dwelling places (homes). If it were not so, I would have told you; for I am going away to prepare a place for you.   And when (if) I go and make ready a place for you, I will come back again and will take you to Myself, that where I am you may be also.  And [to the place] where I am going, you know the way.  Thomas said to Him, Lord, we do not know where You are going, so how can we know the way?  Jesus said to him, I am the Way and the Truth and the Life; no one comes to the Father except by (through) Me." John 14:1-7 (TAB)

"Sunny, you need to go see him now," the SW said. 

Whenever I hear the words you need to, I find myself asking the next question. . .why.  In some cases I really do need to see the patient now but more often it turns out that the "snapshot" the SW, RN, or some other team member has taken is not the complete picture.  By the time I get the message that I need to (fill in the blank here) and see the patient usually the reason I needed to in the first place is resolved.  I sighed, looked at my schedule (which is the biggest piece of fiction I've ever written), and asked, "Really, what's happening with him?" 

"Well, he wants to know where he's going to go when he dies," she said, "not the graveyard but where he's going to end up, you know."  She gave me a look that seemed to indicate she too wanted me to tell her where he is going to go when he dies and then repeated the original appeal, "you need to go see him." 

"You do realize I don't know where he's going when he dies, right?" I ask making a mental note to never make a schedule again.  She nods and I head for the door thanking the Lord that he lives 40 minutes away and I'll have plenty of time for prayer and reflection as I go to answer the patients question.  In the midst of my prayers (more like cries for help!) I review what I know about the patient: he didn't have a close family and left home at an early age, the family he was searching for he found in his motorcycle club, having no where to go a young woman and her live-in took him into their home as his disease progressed.  He was anxious and fearful -- avoiding the medical bed at all costs because he was afraid if he actually slept in the bed he would die, he spent all his time pacing or in the recliner in front of the TV.  "Lord," I prayed, "help me to say the right words to bring him peace."

"Thank you for coming," the caregiver said as she opened the door.  "I'll step out and give you some privacy."  "No problem," I replied, "you can stay," thinking she might be a good reinforcement for me.  The patient was pacing around the small room with a long oxygen hose trailing behind him, winding and unwinding as he paced.

Turning quickly he barked, "Where am I going to go when I die!?" walking to the window he pointed out and said, "and I don't mean across the street either."  Not being able to see where he pointed I paused, "it's a cemetery" the caregiver whispered.  "Yeah," he said, "I know everyone ends up in a cemetery or something but I want to know where I'll go when I die."  Finding a peace I didn't know I possessed, the peace of God that passes all understanding, I calmly replied, "Where do you want to go?"  He stopped short, turned and looked at me as if I'd lost my mind.  "I can't tell you where you are going to go.  I don't know that, only God can look at a man's heart.  Where do you want to go?"

"What do you mean?  You don't know where I'm going?" he asked, mystified.  "I mean that everyone goes on their own spiritual journey and has their own belief system.  My belief system teaches certain things that determine where a person goes after they die but not everyone agrees with what I believe.  Let's talk about what you believe and where you think you will go when you die." 

So we spent the afternoon talking, discussing, exploring the patients belief system.  He asked me about my beliefs and why I believed as I did then he queried his caregiver.  As we shared I could see him beginning to relax, beginning to consider what he believed and ask himself why he believed that.  After a time, we prayed together and I promised to return as soon as possible so we could continue this part of our faith journey together. 

The caregiver thanked me for coming so quickly as did the patient.  I reported to the SW that the visit had been fruitful and when I had left the patient he appeared less agitated.  I wish I could say that all of our visits were as successful but over time the patient again became fearful and anxious.  Faith is not easy to grasp when you have never been given a frame of reference and you are busy doing the work of dying. 

The patient died fighting death in the hospital bed he dreaded.  I don't know where he went when he died but I know what I hope and believe.

Lord, thank you for humbling me, reminding me that only You can read the heart of a man.  Only You can tell us where we will go when we die.  Thank you for reminding me that what I believe is only one of many beliefs in this world.  Thank you for reminding me that sometimes the need to's in my life really are need to's and when they aren't, I still need to (fill in the blank).  Mostly Lord, forgive me for not being a better chaplain.  I wanted to bring Your peace to him and while I may have brought peace to him, he never received it.  Please teach me how to minister to Your children better.  Amen.