I usually heard Beth before I saw her, her pixie voice bouncing down the hall, and I would be glad that she was assigned to our end of the ICU. Before long, her blonde head would pop around the corner. She’d rummage through the fridge looking for IV Zosyn and scatter bits of sunshine around the nursing station.
She was half the size of most of her patients, especially the burn victims who were swollen and covered from head to foot in gauze, but she boosted, turned, and slathered them in Silvadene just a quickly as anyone. Beth’s real gift, though, as burn trauma nurse, was making friends with family members, adding lightness and warmth to the stark rooms where their loved ones hung in a balance between life and death.
But now, Beth is gone. She was young and full of life and her departure was too soon. She had years of love left to give her kids and hundreds of patients left to care for. The sadness I’ve felt since hearing the news has left me thinking about what lies beyond this world.
Heaven gets a lot of misleading press–all that business about sitting on clouds and playing harps. Thankfully, that’s not how the Bible describes it. Beth would be bored with that; I know I would. She’d be itching to do something meaningful, to make someone’s day. Instead, the real Heaven will have skyscrapers of gold and a dinner party that will blow the socks off every five star restaurants in history. It will be populated by nations and kings, which means there will be culture, politics, and jobs, but without anything evil, painful, or sad Continue Reading…