This is a Grace church story within a Grace Church story. It exemplifies the story that is Grace—the ministries, the people, and the love of Christ that is shared. It is a story that I wrote as an assignment for a Lenten writers class I was blessed to attend many years ago. For those who do not know, Alex Sampson was one of our Grace Church “Heroes.” I hope this story honors his memory
It was rather ironic, in a tragic sort of way. Me, a cardiac nurse—on my way to my nightly ER shift—to “heal sick hearts,” when my own was dead. It had been almost a year since my sweet Caitlin took her last breath and my world had ended. And yet, here I was, back at work, to “help” people. But my soul was all used up.
I took Caitlin’s worn prayer card out of my pocket and read the familiar scripture, but felt only emptiness. She was gone, I was here, and only God knew why.
Tucking the prayer card back in my pocket, I began my shift in the busy ER. I was surprised to find my old friend Alex waiting for me in room A. Good ole gospel-singing, scripture-quoting, 79-year-old Alex Sampson was a “Christian extraordinaire,” and I loved him to death! Alex had a long cardiac history and we had danced this arrhythmia dance many a night before, but tonight I knew he was a gift straight from God. I set about doing my “nurse” duties, and he started telling me about how his eyesight was failing and he was desperate to finish his book—a collection of his favorite scripture verses. Alex could quote more scripture than anyone I knew and he often began or ended every conversation with some meaningful passage. It was his gift. Or his skill. Or maybe both.
But that night when he began to recite to me II Corinthians 4:16–18, I knew it was something more. It was Christ—in him—ministering to me. I stopped fussing with his IV tubing, sat down next to his stretcher, and took his warm, wrinkled hand in mine. I told him that scripture verse was very special to me and pulled out Caitlin’s prayer card from my pocket and shared it with him. He smiled sweetly at me and softly patted my hand.
We finished my shift together that night, sharing stories, reciting scripture and softly singing old gospel hymns.
Who can fathom God’s mysterious ways? Alex, my cardiac patient, had come to me for his sick heart, yet it was my own heart that had been healed.
© 2022 by Julie Daidone