I probably spent my last prayer time with Erica today. For the past eight years, since we’ve lived in this neighborhood, I’ve had the privilege of bringing her husband Helmut to the feet of Jesus, and now Erica. Helmut died some five years ago, but not until after some time in the hospital, some of which was psychological. Helmut was something of the antagonist in the neighbourhood, always butting into and advising all the neighbours about the proper way in which to conduct whatever it was they were doing. Helmut and I became best of friends on that mark alone, as I don’t speak Deutsch and he doesn’t speak English. In time I visited him in the hospital and prayed for him. At first he was non-responsive to my prayers, but gradually he cried. On one visit it occurred to m to say the only words I really new in the way of prayer and that was simply “Danke Gott.” I think it is what you would say to God if he handled you something “Thank You God..: At first Helmut would not say this when I closed the prayer with those two words, but hen came the crying time and shortly after that he turned to God in his hear and said “Danke Gott.”
Erica has been something of the same. After Helmut’s death, I would see her sitting in front of her house with the caretaker who then was minding Erica’s daily living. I would sit by her, hold her and pray for her. Erica is 14 years to the day older than me, she is 78 now. She is blind and she has cancer in her right leg. It has been my God given assignment to go to her most every day of the workweek, and sometimes on weekends and to hold her and pray for her. Usually she is alone. She is in a nursing home and wishes to have no one around her, nor to go anywhere. So she is in a little room by herself, all the time. I don’t stay long, two minute tops. I pray for her in English and end the prayer with “Danke Gott.” To this she also says, “Danke Gott.” Erica knows the routine. So, today she is the weakest I’ve ever seen her. She is very faint, even in her voice. An orderly was in there, tending to her. I picked her hand up and said, “I will pray Erica.” She said, “Yah.” I prayed for God to fill her with His Spirit, to be present in the room, to hold her hand. “Danke Gott.”
Monday
Prior to my leaving this afternoon to visit and pray for Erica my phone rang and it was Brother Bob, my priest friend from the United States. He asked me the usual questions, “How are you doing?”, and so on, and we discussed the snow in Iowa on that day. I told him that I was just now leaving to go to pray for Erica, and that “I am certain she is dying,” and “…not even sure that she is still alive except that the family hasn’t told me otherwise.”
I asked Brother Bob if this time he would be the one to pray and perhaps he would pray for Erica. Bob’s prayer went as follows, “Father we are glad that we belong to you. I ask you now that Erica will travel to that bright light to come to you. That she will see familiar faces and be glad. We are so lucky to have this hope with us. Please have your angel, that one who has watched over her all her life, escort her now to be with you Lord. Amen.”
With that I patted Erica’s son on the shoulder and walked out the door. We had said nothing. Nothing needed saying.
Tuesday
My time with the family today was brief, as usual. They were all there this time seated around Erica’s bed. She lay back with a cloth over her forehead; her mouth open; her eyes open. I knocked on the door and came in. Her son nodded at me and slid his chair aside to allow for me to be next to his mother. I held his hand and placed my had on hers and God gave me this prayer; “Father, I thank you for this life; and that this soul belongs to you. Amen.”
Nothing more was said. The family looked up at me and I left.
Thus ends now, my time of ministry with Erica. I am sure.
Thursday
I went in to see Erica this afternoon. I passed her son on the road as he was leaving that area and I was coming. He had a look of concern on his face as he passed me coming the opposite way. I wasn’t sure what I would find today.
I went in and went up the stairs to Erica’s room; knocked a few times on the door and walked in. The lights were on and no one else was there. There was a sweater hung over one of the chairs right next to her bed. She was reclined as usual, her mouth and eyes opened, her breathing shallow and raspy. I said to her “Hi Erica, Nick here.” I then said I am going to take your hands and pray with you,” and so I did. I prayed as I usually did coming to Jesus and bringing her to Him. And then it occurred to me that it was time to pray in tongues. I did so for just a short while. I recall having done just this with my own mother at the point she was near death.
At That very moment, some thirty years ago, Jesus took my mother’s spirit to be with him. I saw him do it. No kidding.
Erica continued breathing in her raspy breath. I held her hands and I committed her to Jesus and told her, Jesus is ready for you when you are ready to go Erica.” I then stood, put my hand on her forehead and said, “God be with you,” and I walked out the door.
I should mention here that upon entering the room I noticed Erica raised her right hand when I came over to her, and then she put it back on her lap where she lay. I don’t know, perhaps she knew I was there.
Friday
