How I Came to See Nursing as a Ministry

by Dr. Tom Middendorf, Provost and Senior Vice President

It was 2006, and I was sitting in the house of my wife’s family, where they’d turned the living room into a makeshift hospital room. Gone was the couch that my wife Jess and I sat on to watch movies when we dated in the late 1990s. The dining room table, where we’d all enjoyed family meals and played Monopoly during the holidays, was moved back closer to the wall.

These changes had been made to fit a hospital bed comfortably in the center of the living room. You see, you had to make room for the caretakers to navigate around the space to care for Peggy, my wife’s mom.

The entire house felt different. Peggy was placed in the center of the room—the heart of the house where everyone was coming and going. It was good from the standpoint that we could be with her, but it was also a constant reminder that Peggy was dying of lung cancer.

Let me tell you a little bit about Peggy Downs—she was the matriarch of the family—the rock that held everything together. She was a Christian and faithfully attended church every day that the doors were open. She and Jess attended regularly, and that is actually where I met my future wife for the first time—in church.

Peggy was a Godly woman that faithfully served the church and drove a school bus within the community. Everyone loved Ms. Peggy, and if you didn’t behave on the bus, you were in big trouble. Aside from the Lord, she loved her family more than anything else on the planet.

The family had been called in to be with Peggy during her last days, and I remember there being such a heaviness in the home. In those final days, Peggy was not able to communicate.

You’ll have to forgive me for saying this, but there was an uneasiness to being in the living room during this time. It wasn’t what I remembered throughout the years. This is the central room of the home—a place of activity, relationship, laughter, joy, meals, community, and so on, but it took on a feeling of solemnness. We could still be present with Peggy, but she couldn’t be present with us like it used to be.

As you can imagine, we did a lot of sitting and visiting in the living room. It was during this time that I met an inspirational figure that I will never forget. She was a hospice nurse who came to the home daily at that point. She may have been one of the bravest individuals I’ve ever met. Here I am, feeling uneasy and maybe even scared a bit of the impending loss of someone I cared for, and this nurse appeared to be fearless.

I observed her as she cared for Peggy in this most intimate of ways. She would brush her hair, make sure that she was clean, she would lean over and whisper in her ear. She protected her dignity in such a loving way. I read a quote by Lexie Paige where she stated, “A nurse is compassion in scrubs.” Our nurse fit this description so well, and I was personally moved by her compassion and sincere love for her patient—someone we cared deeply about.

And her compassion extended beyond Peggy. She was always such a great encouragement to the family when she arrived. There was a joy about her that I could not understand.

How do you walk into a situation like this and still find joy? I believe this woman understood her ‘why’ in life. She was exactly where God wanted her to be, and she was being used to heal the soul when the body was broken.

The day before Peggy passed away, I witnessed an exchange that I can still see in my mind today. Jess’s oldest brother was the last to arrive, and his presence marked the moment when everyone was home. Our nurse came in and met the oldest brother and greeted the family as she normally would. She was always encouraging, always gracious, and so engaging with the family. She knew every one of us by name.

She walked over to Peggy, and she tended to her as she always did—with kindness, compassion, and dignity. Before leaving for the day, she leaned over and said this to Peggy: “They are all here now, hon. All of your family is home to be with you. It’s okay to let go. They will be okay.”

Peggy passed away that night when everyone was sleeping. I believe she passed with a deep sense of peace because she knew her family was there.

We were able to see our nurse one final time the next day. She came in and hugged everyone and shared with us that there was no more pain, and no more suffering for your mom. She is in the arms of Jesus today.

Through this experience, I witnessed an act of ministry that I had never seen or understood before. This nurse was truly the hands and feet of Jesus—she bravely walked into a hard situation, she compassionately cared for the sick, and she offered hope to a grieving family. To this day, I am still amazed at her joy and confidence amid the hardest moments in life. It was as if she knew God was using her in these moments.

As a quote from an unknown source states, “Nurses may not be angels, but they are the next best thing.” I am still not sure this nurse wasn’t an angel.

This personal encounter with the nursing profession served as an inspiration for me as we considered bringing a four-year nursing degree to Trevecca. The seeds that were planted during this experience allowed me to see the impact you can have in this field. The example of service that I witnessed remains the inspiration and vision for the type of nurse we can graduate at Trevecca–Godly people who will be the healing hands of Jesus to those in need.

In those moments where there is no physical healing, don’t ever underestimate having the healing heart of Jesus. And as I’ve learned firsthand, a nurse’s impact can be felt well beyond the patient.