They have a short church service at the nursing home every Thursday, with different Protestant denominations taking it in turn. If there is a fifth Thursday in the month, nothing is planned. Not long after Don became a resident at the nursing home I was asked if I would run a hymn singalong for them on the fifth Thursday - I’d play the organ too, and intersperse the hymns with a Bible reading, perhaps a little story with a message. Don said to me, “What would you like me to do?” so I asked if he would just like to do the benediction at the end, and he was more than happy with that.
Only, his memory was so bad that I was not confident he could remember the benediction, so I printed it out for him, despite his protests that this was something he had done hundreds — no, thousands — of times and could never forget.
When the time came, he was completely stuck. He just stared at me, looking puzzled. ”The Benediction,” I said again, but he looked completely flummoxed, so I gave him the piece of paper. He stared at the paper, bewildered, so I whispered, “The grace…” He got annoyed. “What do you mean, the grace!“ It was getting embarrassing, so I started off aloud, “The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” – paused in case he was able to carry on from there, but then had to complete it myself.
Fast forward to his mother’s funeral, when he had been on low dose naltrexone (LDN) for six months. No other changes in medication or treatment, except for the LDN.
“I’ll do the benediction at the end,” he announced. “There’s a special benediction that I always do at funerals, and I’d like to say it for Mum.”
I was nervous, and found a book with the benediction he wanted, just in case.
The time came for the benediction, and Don turned his wheelchair to face the congregation and said, “After all the stories about Mum that we’ve heard today, I just want to add two more memories: Trees, and rabbits. Living on the farm in the Riverina, with years being ravaged by drought, one of my abiding memories is driving round the paddocks with Mum, lopping branches off trees to provide feed for the stock. And as for rabbits, well I know more about catching rabbits, and Mum knew more about how many ways there are to cook rabbits, than anyone here can possibly imagine.”
He said a little more about trees and rabbits, then paused. Then without missing a beat, without reading a single word, he said, “The benediction. O Lord, support us all the day long, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, and the busy world is hushed, and the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then, in your mercy, grant us a safe lodging, and a holy rest, and peace at the last; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”
I was struggling with tears myself, to hear him say all that. A healing miracle indeed.
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