Excerpt from–Holy Love: A Memoir of Sorrow to Glory
(Account of an incident that occured over 30 years ago during my nursing career)

I entered the room and sat in a chair about ten feet from her. I didn’t even tell her I was there. She appeared to be asleep, if not unconscious. I only wanted to finish my work and intended to stay briefly. She was to be discharged the next morning, and I wanted to leave the guilt behind and let her be, so that when I returned on Monday, she’d be gone and I could pretend she never happened.
God had other plans.
As I sat there, I began to feel the weight of my own body. I attributed it at first to my second-trimester pregnancy and the fatigue of a long week. I’m not sure how much time had gone by, possibly fifteen minutes, when the hospital clergyman and his assistant walked in to do rounds. He nodded at me and walked over to the sleeping woman and prayed over her. I don’t recall the prayer, but it was a prayer that sounded familiar to me. He left with another nod to me, and there I sat. I felt increasingly restless to leave the room but became acutely aware of feeling a weight upon my shoulders, as if I were being held down. I literally felt unable to lift myself off the chair.
Time ticked by. It felt as if an hour passed, when suddenly out of the silence, the patient spoke. Without turning her head in my direction and with her eyes still closed she said, “Jill, I can’t go home tomorrow. I’m too sick.”
I didn’t think she was even aware that I was in the room! To say I was shocked is an understatement. I jumped out of my chair and ran over to her bedside and hugged her, promising her I’d take care of it. I was euphoric as I literally ran down the hall to the doctor’s office. I told him he had to cancel the discharge order because she requested to stay. My euphoria was on her behalf, but even more powerful was the experience of being involved in God’s work. I was not yet a believer. I considered myself to be spiritual, but I had no personal relationship or intimacy with God. He had used me nevertheless, and I knew it!
When I returned on Monday, she was gone. She had died that weekend in her clean hospital bed, with peace and with dignity. I’d often wonder if the vigil I had felt required to perform that Friday afternoon had actually provided the space for her to reconcile her life to God, and allow herself to die.
It was one of many miracles to come.