Just a couple of weeks ago, I sat next to Aunt Myrtle’s hospital bed. We were talking and laughing about all sorts of things. She was telling me a story about her life and the people around her. As she was listing names, she stopped. “I… I can’t remember the person’s name.” With her sweet eyes, she looked at me and said, “Whenever I’m praying, and I can’t remember a person’s name, I just remember that the only name I need to remember is the Lord’s.”
Without trying, Aunt Myrtle always taught me valuable lessons, and that day, even in her frailty and weakness, lying on a hospital bed, she taught me another one. There is nothing compared to knowing Jesus.
Myrtle Berglund’s name was synonymous with longevity. 102 astounding years. Even in her final days, she was lucid and entertaining. She was always charming, kind, and playful. My children loved it when she sat on her walker and they pushed her around the cafe after church. In my eight years at New Hope Chapel, she has always greeted me with cheerfulness and sincerity.
When I last saw Aunt Myrtle in the hospital, I asked her how she was doing. She took a deep breath, and with all sorts of wires and tubes coming from her body, she said, “I have nothing to complain about.” “Wow,” I thought, “I manage to complain about all sorts of things, yet this woman confined to a hospital bed has found contentment.”
As I sat with Barbara, Chuck, and Carolyn the other night – three people who gave her tremendous care throughout the last fifteen plus years, we looked through Myrtle’s Bible for anything she might have highlighted. Sure enough, we found a number of passages, including Philippians 4:12-14 – “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose. Do everything without grumbling or arguing…”
I realize Paul wrote those verses, but it just as well could have been Aunt Myrtle.
I imagine it must be difficult to grow old. It must be lonely to watch friends and family pass away over the years. It must be depressing to lose your mobility and disparaging dealing with the pains that come with age. Yet despite those things, Myrtle lived with a sense of purpose. The last time I saw her, she said, “I thought it was time to go home, but I guess God still has things for me to do. So many people still don’t know Him.”
What keeps you going every day? Is it your health, family, friends, your job, your possessions, something else that you’re involved in? How about Jesus? Is He the purpose of your life? Although Aunt Myrtle had a great, long life and the best care, we don’t remember her for her job, her wealth, her house, or the type of car she drove. For many of us, Myrtle was well into her nineties when she entered our lives. What we remember is her gentle heart, her love for Jesus, and the encouragement she brought to us all.
The greatest lesson that Aunt Myrtle ever taught me – the lesson I’m still learning even after she’s gone from this earth – is that only Jesus matters. How often I try to build my identity with work and possessions. How often I seek the refuge of my own accomplishments. How often I sacrifice being with the Lord for doing something for Him. And how often I feel so empty and discontent.
I never heard Myrtle become bitter or complain about those many hours she was confined to the bed. She didn’t complain because those hours gave her time to draw closer to her goal. Her goal wasn’t fame or fortune. Her desire was simply and profoundly to walk with Jesus. He was everything she ever wanted, and when everything faded away, He became everything she ever needed. In her was the breath of God, and that breath ignited her life in this world and awakened it in the next.