"Don't be jealous or proud, but be humble and consider others more important than yourselves!” - - Philippians 2:3
A nurse took the weary, anxious serviceman to Frank’s bedside. “Your son is here,” she said gratefully, repeating her words several times before the old man’s eyes opened.
Heavily sedated due to the unbearable pain, Frank vaguely saw the sharp uniformed Marine standing outside his oxygen tent. He offered a shaking, arthritic hand. The Marine wrapped his calloused fingers around the old man’s boney ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement. Frank closed his eyes again, letting a single tear escape his wrinkled, sagging eyelid.
The nurse positioned a chair so that the Marine could sit beside his bed. All through the night the young soldier sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man’s hand and prayerfully offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that he lie down and rest awhile.
Whenever she came into the ward, the Marine ignored her and the hospital’s night noises – the clanking of the oxygen tank, the banter among the night staff members, the moans of other patients.
Now and then she heard him say a few consoling words. Frank remained mute but clutched tightly his son’s hand all through the night.
The old clock on the wall struck 5:00 AM, each tick another second closer to eternal life. Then, without warning, Frank’s hand grew limp. The heart monitor made a continuous beep, the alarm of death. His son sat quietly, absorbing every moment. Finally, he said to Frank reverently, “Safe journey to the next world, my brother. While your life may end . . . your spirit never will.”
Mercifully, the old man took one final breath. Gone from the hospital bed, the assortment of life support machines, the picture of his family . . . gone to where the burdens of life could not follow. He’s already in God’s hands now.
While the nurse went through her post-death routine, the Marine waited, continuing to hold Frank’s lifeless hand. She turned to him and started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.
“Who was that man?” he asked.
Confusion quickly spread across her face. “Why, he was your father,” she answered.
“No, he wasn’t,” the Marine replied. “I never saw him before in my life. I knew right away when you took me to him,” he admitted, “that a mistake had been made. I also realized that this man needed his son . . . a son that wasn’t immediately available. I knew he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, so I stayed.”
My sweet Lord – Help me in all the work I do, to always be sincere and true. And know that all I'd do for You, must be done for OTHERS too. Because it is in giving that we receive, it is in putting ourselves last, that we come first. Amen
