In October at Emmanuel, we have a tradition of sharing our “Emmanuel Stories.” These are stories of impactful ministry shared by our members during the sermon time. Eileen Roberts shared this story on Sunday, October 5th:
“My story is of the last worship experience with our friend and fellow member Ruth. Many of
you lived this story but others of you were not a part of it. This experience was amazing to me
so I want to share it now and its deep effect on me, one of profound sadness along with
surprising joy.
Ruth joined Emmanuel several years ago and quickly became involved – attending worship
services, often engaging as a reader, telling her stories, attending social events, and becoming
an active Council member. Ruth had an engaging way of sharing herself with others, giving
testimony of her faith, and strongly advocating service to others. I sum it up as “Ruth had a BIG
heart!”
In July, Ruth became sick and was hospitalized. She became sicker and sicker and then her
medical team told her it was time to consider palliative care. Ruth decided to come home with
hospice care support.
It was two days later at our Sunday worship that Pastor Ethan invited us to go to Ruth’s home in
Kernersville and have a service with her. Thirteen of us went—some piling into the church van
and others driving cars. When we arrived, Ruth was lying in a hospital bed in her living room
with her son and granddaughter close by who welcomed us. Ruth seemed to be in a deep sleep,
I thought maybe a coma. We gathered in a circle around her bed with a “printed worship
program” that Pastor had put together. Its heading was “A Holy Ground Moment With Ruth: A
Prayer Service of Thanksgiving for Her Life and Commendation”. There was beautiful liturgy we
read responsively. We said prayers asking for comfort, courage, and faith, while remembering
God’s love, grace, and promise. We prayed The Lord’s Prayer in unison. We sang the hymns
“Precious Lord, Take My Hand”, “Amazing Grace”, and “Abide With Me” while Pastor Ethan
played his guitar. There were scripture readings that individuals read as they felt called: a
reading from Isaiah where it says “Do not fear, for I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…I am the Lord your God,…your Savior.”
And from Romans when Paul says “Who can separate us from the love of Christ?” And John
when Jesus says he gives eternal life. As I looked around, I saw few dry eyes: I was crying
profusely! I would like to think that Ruth heard us and sensed our presence; she did make a
sound when a question was asked of her by her son, so maybe. It is said that one’s sense of
hearing is the last sense to leave us when we are on this threshold. But even if Ruth did not
hear us, this was a service for ALL of us there. We ARE the body of Christ, called to support one
another. It was a time to join in community with love and faith beside our dear sister Ruth as
she neared transition. It was a time to remember God’s promise and be comforted. It was a
time to proclaim together that death does not have the last word!
After the service, Ruth’s son told of his mother’s life journey in recent years — a time when she
counseled teens as they aged out of Baptist Children’s Home, building their self-esteem and
giving them tools for attaining their goals, be it work or school. We smiled while wiping away
our tears. We hugged one another and gently said our goodbyes to Ruth as we left her home.
Ruth died the next morning at Hospice Home surrounded by her family.
When I began telling this story, I told you of the two strong emotions I experienced – profound
sadness and surprising joy. I know you can readily understand why I felt sadness. I, along with
Pete, had known Ruth before she came to Emmanuel, and our friendship had grown. While
Ruth was in the hospital, she and I had two long conversations about the seriousness of her
illness and the possibility she would not survive, but we prayed the outcome would be
otherwise. Ruth talked intimately about her family, her work, her church and her faith. She
wanted to live so she could give more to those she loved. And selfishly, I knew if she did not
survive, I would miss her terribly.
So that brings me to explain the joy I felt in the midst of overwhelming sadness. Our presence
there on that Sunday afternoon was a gift! A gift to Ruth and to her family. And in a way it was
a gift to me too! The words we said, the songs we sang, the scripture we read comforted me
and grounded me in the truth that God is with us in the worst of times, even in death. I knew
Ruth was surrounded with amazing love as she journeyed from us, and I was filled with joy for
her, and for all of us!”