10 Things I Wish You Knew About Being A Chaplain

In case you haven't read elsewhere, I have officially accepted a resident chaplaincy position for the 2016-17 year. I have also been reaffirmed and recommended for Local Pastor Licensure and placed in the appointment pool of the United Methodist Church. I am seeking appointment, as a local pastor, to my residency position. What this would mean for me is that, while in this place, I will be granted all of the authority necessary to perform all of the duties of Pastor within the hospital community. For those of you who are unaware, this means that I will have the authority to lead worship, preach, teach, bless communion, perform weddings as well as funerals. BUT, before I get there, I still need to finish out the next few weeks of school and work.

After a long and eventful on-call shift, I woke up and composed the following list. I am sure that I could come up with many more, but for now... my emotional, sleep deprived, exhausted brain could only come up with these 10 things that I wish you all knew. Without further ado, I present:

10 Things I Wish You Knew About Being A Chaplain

1.     I cry. Since becoming a chaplain, I have become incredibly more in touch with my own feelings. When I see someone suffering, I cannot help but cry right alongside of them.

2.     It's hard. You don't have to ask me if it's hard. It is. In no other sphere are you welcomed into someone else's deep pits of shame, sadness, fear, anxiety and depression. This pit is full of secrets that  people have never shared with children, spouses or other family members. And, somehow, they trust me with all of them.

3.     I am available. My college Stanley Hauerwas has accused contemporary pastors of being little more than a "quivering mass of availability". While, I do think healthy boundaries in a pastoral relationship are necessary. I am lucky enough to work for a Health System that believes spiritual support, especially at times of crisis, is important and goes out of their way to call chaplains in at 2am. However, when I've dragged by butt out of bed at 2am, I should NEVER hear your parishioner's say that they don't want to call you because they believe you "won't come anyway".

4.     I sleep a lot. In a typical 8-4 job, you have a predictable schedule. I, on the other hand, must ritualize my on-call shifts. I'm sorry that I can't get lunch with you. Instead, I'm taking a nap to prepare myself for the possibility of needing to be awake from 5pm - 830am. In my experience, the shifts I start tired are the ones where I truly am awake all night.

5.     I'm exhausted. Perhaps this is related to the last point. Although I am on-call from home, what little rest that I can get, is not optimal. Try sleeping deep enough that you get rest and light enough to be woken up by a screaming pager in the middle of the night. And, if I get more than two calls a night -- forget sleep altogether! My Friday shift bleeds over into my Saturday morning and then devours my entire Saturday day as I stumble between fits of sleep and wandering aimlessly around my house because I know if I sleep all day, I will be awake all night. But, I'm exhausted.

6.     I get frustrated. I get frustrated when families don't act the way that 'I want them to act'. I get frustrated when patient's only see hopelessness. I get frustrated with God. I get frustrated with other hospital disciplines for walking in and out of the room when I am trying to have an encounter with a patient or their family. I know that all of this is more about me, then them. I am working on this.

7.     I consider everything I do a sacrament. Wesley talks about sacrament as being the outward sign of an inward grace. If I didn't truly believe that God has gifted all people with grace and was working within them at all times, I could not be a chaplain. In some ways, the chaplain’s presence in the world is an outward sign of the grace that is bestowed upon all of creation.

8.     I value my relationships more. It feels like every time that I am on-call, I come face to face with death, with strained relationships and with fear of last words, last impressions and last 'I love you's'. Because of my experience as a chaplain, I have learned that the relationships that I maintain are delicate and they deserve my attention. I don't want anyone ever to feel unloved or unwanted. And, when they do, I feel the heartbreak of losing friendships significantly deeper than I use to.

9.     I have learned how to have 'hard' conversations. Again, related to the last point, it is never easy to talk to your loved ones about the true desires that you have for yourself, let alone broach the subject of health care power of attorney, 'what if' scenarios and conversations around advanced directives. Chaplaincy has shown me what happens when these conversations fail to happen. At 25, I have a healthcare power of attorney, I have decided to be DNR in certain circumstances and I know, for the most part, what those closest to me want for themselves. These conversations are difficult, but they are necessary.

10. Death is a beautiful mystery. I am always amazed at the different responses to how people handle death. Sometimes, I cry alongside of families. Sometimes, I stay in my head because the family can't quite move to the emotional space of the loss. And, sometimes, I go back after the family has left, to pray privately with a patient's body. Not because the prayer I offered in front of the family wasn't genuine, but because the prayer that I offer in private helps me ritualize my own experience.

In the Grip of God’s Grace,
Pastor Anitta +♡