It was Friday, the day I normally set aside for visiting one of our local hospitals. Amongst others, I particularly wanted to see a dear old lady who for long years had been a diligent member of my church. It was always an inspiration to talk and pray with her. She had a deep-rooted faith in God, which obviously stood her in good stead amid the many perplexing storms of life. I invariably discovered that when I sought to minister to her the tables were turned as, out of her rich experience, I found her ministering to me. As I stood by her bedside on this occasion, she said, "Get a chair, Pastor, and sit down. I've got something important to say to you". It was a drab little ward, accommodating about eight senior citizens and furnished with little but the bare essentials.
As soon as I was seated in the uncomfortable upright chair, she began her sad story. She had no relatives or near friends in whom to confide. This was a case where the faithful pastor had not only to be a preacher of the good tidings, but also a patient, unhurried listener to the heart-aches and troubles of another. He must always be ready to sympathize and enter into a situation which could sound trivial to the listener, but is often gigantic to the person concerned.
This lady had been in hospital for a long time and with tears in her eyes she opened her heart to me. "Pastor", she said, "they have told me today I shall not be able to go home any more. You see", she continued, "I've no one to look after me at home and I need constant attention, so I shall have to spend the rest of my days here". I almost shuddered as I looked again at the dreary room. Try as I would, I felt I could never fully understand the inward grief that had come to this dear saint of God. It was almost like receiving a life sentence. I tried to comfort her as tenderly as I could and assured her I was very sorry to hear what she had to say. "Ah, but Pastor", she went on, "that is not all. They have also told me my little home has been sold up. All my little treasures have gone. I've nothing left now".
As you may guess, I was deeply moved by what I had heard. In spite of my long years in the ministry, in circumstances of this kind, I am afraid I still get emotionally stirred, and as I listened to this moving story tears came readily to my eyes. In a flash this dear woman saw my tears and instantly appeared to have a concern for me. She had a terrific burden of her own to carry, but she did not want it to weigh heavily on me. She laid her hand on mind and said with much feeling, "Never mind, Pastor".
I have often reflected on this: it was she who had to stay in hospital; it was she who had lost all her possessions, yet she was telling me not to be upset. What an amazing woman she was. But allow me to finish what she had to say. I have never forgotten this, and have used it scores of times in seeking to help others. In spite of the crushing information she had just received and all the foreboding prospects, she testified with a glowing face and an unruffled peace, "Never mind, Pastor, I've still got Jesus". That to her was the solution to all her worries. She said it again with stronger emphasis, "I've still got Jesus and they can't take Him away, can they?" She then lay back in the bed, with her head upon the pillow and with the perfect trust of a little child, she recited, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want". I saw her several times after that, before she went to be with Jesus, but she never wanted to talk about her troubles again. She eagerly awaited the comforting message I would bring her from God's Holy Word and rejoiced in it. It seemed to me, every time I saw her, she was becoming more and more detached from the things of the world and more and more attached to heavenly things. She would frequently say, "Make sure, Pastor, you say a little prayer before you go". She had found a wonderful hiding place in God. How true are the words of the old hymn,
"When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay".
During my long years in the Christian ministry, I have learned some of the
greatest truths, not from the many commentaries on my book shelves, but from the
lives of these lovely saints of God, who maybe have had little of earthly
riches, but have been abundantly rich in the things of God.
The anchor we have in God will always hold secure, even in the greatest storms
of life.