Standing at the Bedside

A few nights ago, I was paged to the hospital as a 'support person' for a particularly difficult case. The nurse told me that the patient had hung himself in the garage the morning before and had just been pronounced brain dead. She also told me that the mother was on her way to the hospital with their 10 year old daughter.

I got dressed, got in my car and Googled the whole way there... I Googled: what to tell a child about their dead parent, what to tell the surviving parent about child grief, how to make sense of suicide, what do pastors think about suicide, how to be present for suicide survivors, the list went on and on...

In many ways, I felt entirely underprepared to be entering into the room with the patient and his loved ones. This is not my first experience of suicide, it's not my first experience when a young child has been involved and its not my first case of parent suicide either. Yet, no matter how many of these cases happen... I'm put back in that place of being a novice in this field.

Standing at the bedside, I witnessed a grieving wife, mother, daughter, and parents. I heard stories about a beloved man, a gardener, Dr. Pepper lover, secret keeper, hide and go seek player and all around great dad. I heard a mother be completely honest with her 10 year old daughter about depression, about suicide and about how they were going to wake up tomorrow without this man because of it. They planned to spend all day writing letters to him, crying, watching movies and planting all of the new plants that dad had purchased. At one point, I too felt warm tears streaming down my face.

After the family left, the patient was taken off of life support and he died moments later. Shortly after, the nurse handed me what appeared to be a large, fancy watch. I inquired about the watch and was informed that it was an ankle bracelet. I found out that the patient had been on house arrest for child pornography charges. I was shocked. And then, I was relieved that I did not have that information prior to being present with the family in the midst of their grief. It brought up a lot of questions for me, questions that I'm embarrassed to share.

When I first began working in this ministry, I was amazed by the fact that most patients could care less about who I am,  my background or what my qualifications are. The only qualification that I need is to bear the title of Chaplain, to be kind, compassionate, empathetic and willing to listen. In many ways, I think this is true of the patient as well. I once had a professor of Pastoral Care inform me that as a Parish minister, it would be part of my responsibility to a congregation to 'invite people to leave the church'. I was horrified. While I understand the need, I cannot imagine being able to ask someone to leave the church.

As a hospital chaplain, I will never be asked to turn my back on someone. I have the privilege of interacting with those who have left the church for a million and one reasons. At the end of the day, my patient's story is no more important than my own. While I am often invited into the deep, dark, secretive places... I never carry that expectation. The only thing that matters is this chance conversations, in which God does what She does best.

So, yes. I am a pastor for pedophiles, murderers, convicts, felons, aunts, uncles, children, moms, dads, doctors, nurses, the wealthy and the poor. I am a pastor for the people.

In the Grip of God's Grace,

Pastor Anitta +♡