There are 2 types of Earthly hells in my opinion: the physical kind (like being tortured or murdered) and the Emotional kind (like losing someone you love and watching them suffer)
I have lived through my own personal Hell and it is not something that I could ever describe nor would I want to inflict it upon my worst enemy. To give you an idea though, imagine the one person you love most in your life: laying in a bed, screaming from pain, and there you are sitting there watching their vital signs fail... Until that last moment that changes your life forever... That fleeting moment where all you can think is "THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! Oh God, I am not ready! Please more time... more time..."
At this point, you have entered the gates of your personal hell. It can only be described as a desolate - heart shredding mental state - that eats at your soul and leaves you with doubts, fears, and loss. You live like this until you can overcome the pain and heartache it gives you - only when you are strong enough to claw your way out of this hell hole will you move on. This to me is when God must carry us. This place has no light and we have no more strength to endure the loss. We are alone, tortured, and lost. It is unimaginable, my words could never come close to describing this place, and it is something that can never be understood until experienced. And I pray you never have to understand it.
My personal hell lasted months - but the first week was the hardest and most painful week of my entire life. But God carried me through this shadow in the valley of what can only be described as wanted death.I am now the respite for those who live this personal hell. You see, this pain was so significant in my life, that I decided that I must help those who are experiencing this. Through prayer, support and words of strength.I work with hospice patients and their families.
Hospice is a special concept of care designed to give comfort coupled with support to patients and their families when a life-ending illness no longer responds to cure-oriented treatments. It does not treat the disease, but instead manages the pain and other symptoms of the disease process. Patients in hospice have less than 6 months to live and I have found that the average is about 1-2 months by the time they enter in-home hospice care (in my experience.)
This medical field is filled with death and dying with people of all walks of life and generations...
Death knows no stereotype here. I am part of a volunteer-based support system to the patients and their families but specifically their families.
Most of my patients have come to terms with their diagnosis and seek death as a means of relief and comfort from this life. They are usually spiritual, wise and full of regrets. It is painful to watch the process of death and to see someone die, but my heart has grown detachments to these patients as is medically required. I do not feel sorry for them since they do not want my pity and are in a lot of cases eager to die.
I feel sorry for their loved ones..........
The caretakers of the sick. The moms, dads, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, grandkids or friends who take care of their own. They complete every task with love and a sense of overwhelming chaos. They seek peace- but it doesn't come. They are in a personal hell. These people work 24 hours a day, bathing there "patient", toileting them, administering a regimen of medications, changing catheter bags, cleaning vomit, spoon feeding pureed food, and tending to the patients every need and request as well as working, shopping, cleaning and running their home.
They are soldiers.
They are the essence of humanity.
Doing everything in love. Hours of work, loss of sleep, and dealing with the emotional warfare of knowing they will soon be without someone they love. But they do it.... They ask for my help and I do all that I can. I enter their hell and eagerly help them battle their fights.
When I speak I tell them how strong they are... they never believe it... but they are people to be admired and respected. God uses me to bring them some respite in the midst of the storm... God uses me to hear their worries and respond in prayers and words of encouragement. God uses me. Yes, I enter this hell with pride and strength. I call upon God to guide me. He shines the light within the hole and I see the demons surrounding. But the Lord is there... And I continue on - with the unaltered appearance of fearlessness- but I am terrified! I sit and I begin to speak to those who want to listen in the home, and God's love pours from my heart and mouth. Yes, this hell can only be described as hell. But I must also be a solider for those who cannot escape there hell. Somehow I manage to give these people something that they need - whether it be a shoulder to cry on, a person to be angry at, or just someone who will sit there in silence and hold their hand.
I try my best to bring these people some light in the midst of their darkness- so they can breathe easier. I know the importance of this mission. Regardless of the pain it causes - I continue on. I often call on him for strength when I am ready to give in and weep. I do my best. God does the work...
In some small way, I feel proud at the end of every day knowing that in my huge loss that I was able to turn it into something positive for someone else. Even though I can't give them hope, healing or peace - I know that I can at least stand with them as they face their demons as so many stood by me and my father.
Psalms 23:4
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil:
for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
