The Lord is my patient
I shall try to be gentle;
He shows me the anguish and pain that he bears
He tries to hide the loneliness that surrounds his days
He smiles with love when I take time to share my joy and songs that bubble up
and over inside me:
He understands but becomes sad when I show impatience towards Him
When He is slow, demanding or fussy;
Yes, and when He begins His journey through the valley of death
I will not turn His tired body harshly
Nor forget to anoint His body with creams and oils - to keep His body free from
broken areas,
Nor forget to whisper caring love into His ear
To tell Him that someone is there and cares about what happens to him.
The Lord is my patient and eats very slowly -
And small amounts of mashed up food,
I shall try not to shovel His food into His mouth
For, He is a personality that could - if I stopped long enough to listen
Tell me many exciting things of long ago:
I know if I persevere He shall flow through me to comfort those I nurse.
The Lord is my patient
And He returns daily every hello,
Every hug
Every smile
Every friendly gesture I give too Him.
I love my patients with a great love; Because in each one I nurse I see Christ's body broken for me
Copyright Jeanne Meyer-Chauval,
39 Chiltern Crescent
Glen Innes
Auckland 1006
New Zealand
This poem was written for those of us who nurse elderly people.