Mourn with those Who Mourn: Romans 12:15

When I arrived at the room, I found a weeping child, and a shocked sister. I found a man barely in his 40s, struggling to take his last deep breaths. At the direction of the patient's Health Care Power Of Attorney, all medical interventions were stopped and comfort measures were began. One by one, the medical team exited the room leaving me with sisters, a brother-in-law and a son. The five of us gathered around the patient. We cried, held one another and sang. We prayed and shared stories. The patient died shortly after.

As I stood there, I could not help but relate my own experiences. I don't really know how to acknowledge this publicly, but over the last two months, I had a sibling and a step-parent complete suicide. Although, I did not name my experiences with this family, I was able to use my experiences to inform my practice. I spoke out of the deep pit of discomfort and grief. I lamented alongside of them, reflecting on my own pain and suffering. I am sure that these experiences will continue to impact my chaplaincy care, pastoral care and spiritual care. As they do, I look forward to having this space to be open and vulnerable about the encounters.

After spending most of my early morning with this family and being brought back to my own place of grief and mourning, I was responsible for offering both our staff devotion as well as leading a staff prayer service this morning. Here are the words that I shared:

Devotion: Mourn with Those Who Mourn

Rejoice with those who rejoice;

mourn with those who mourn. 

Romans 12:15 NIV

When I was growing up, my family had a border collie who was very aware of and sensitive to human emotions. Whenever something was upsetting me and I'd sneak away too my room for a good cry, he was usually the first one on the scene to check in on me. He'd walk in quietly, lay his head on my lap, and look up at me with his big brown eyes. He would stay there, sitting quietly next to me, until I felt better. His simple presence was overwhelmingly comforting.

Instead of running away from a potentially awkward situation, embrace the opportunity to be a comfort and support to someone who is hurting. Look out for those who might need and extra hug, smile, or encouraging word. Even if you don't know what to say, just being an empathetic and supporting presence is all that's necessary.

Physical and emotional pain tend to make us feel very alone, so the simple act of noticing that someone is hurting, being there for them, mourning with them, and standing by until they feel betters remarkable power to heal wounds and banish loneliness.

-- 3-minute Devotions for a God Lover's Heart: 180 Paws-itively Perfect Readings 

May the Spirit bless you with discomfort

at easy answers, half truths and superficial relationships
so that you will live deep in your heart. 

May the Spirit bless you with anger
at injustice and oppression, the exploitation of people and earth
so that you will work for justice, equity and peace. 

May the Spirit bless you with tears
to shed for those who suffer
so that you will reach out your hand to comfort them. 

May the Spirit bless you with foolishness
to think that you can make a difference in the world
so that you will do the things which others say cannot be done.

Prayer Service

Centering
As we begin our time together, I invite you to meditate with a two way breath. As you breathe in, you may choose to focus on the item you named. As you breathe out, you may choose to focus on something that you’d like to let go. For example: I may breathe in “peace” and exhale “fear”.

Reading
“Like a wild animal, the soul is tough, resilient, resourceful, savvy, and self-sufficient: it knows how to survive in hard places. I learned about these qualities during my bouts with depression. In that deadly darkness, the faculties I had always depended on collapsed. My intellect was useless; my emotions were dead; my will was impotent; my ego was shattered. But from time to time, deep in the thickets of my inner wilderness, I could sense the presence of something that knew how to stay alive even when the rest of me wanted to die. That something was my tough and tenacious soul.”

-- Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life

Reflection
What of Parker Palmer’s words caused the strongest feelings in you? Why?
While you were reading, describe what you pictured in your mind.
Are there connections between Parker Palmer’s words and your life? If so, how?
What do you wonder about this reading?

Prayer

Beautiful Mystery,

Where hearts are fearful and constricted,

grant courage and hope.

Where anxiety is infectious and widening,

grant peace and reassurance.

Where impossibilities close every door and window,

grant imagination and resistance.

Where distrust twists our thinking,

grant healing and illumination.

Where spirits are daunted and weakened,

grant soaring wings and strengthened dreams.

Blessing
The love of the faithful Creator
The peace of the wounded Healer
The joy of the challenging Spirit
The hope of the Three in One
Surround and encourage you
Today, tonight and forever.

-- Kathy Galloway, The Pattern of Our Days

In the Grip of God's Grace, 

Pastor Anitta +♡

Loving the Unlucky, Unloveable Characters

Last weekend, I was paged to a patient care unit to visit with M. M is a mid 50s, Caucasian female. M identifies religiously as a Messianic Jew. Upon a brief look at the patient's chart, I note that she had been brought in for an attempted suicide. I also see that M has already expressed to the social worker and several staff members that she is being abused at home -- mentally, physically and emotionally.

Breathe.

When I first arrived to M's room, she was laying in bed and one of the nurses was kneeling at her bedside, adjusting the wires attached to M's legs. I introduce myself by name and position. M and I lock eyes. She begins to weep. I softly ask M if I can pull up a chair and she nods in agreement. So, I do.

Breathe.

For the next half hour, M tells me in detail about her life. She tells me about feeling unloved, feeling unloveable. She tells me that her children found her unconscious after drinking four bottles of wine and taking "enough prescription pills to kill a horse". M says that she has been in the hospital for over a week and that not a single person from her family has come to visit her. M would like her children to feel sorry for her... she would like them to say, "Mom, we didn't realize that you were that unhappy. We love you. We're here for you." But, M says, "I'm not that lucky. I'm not that lovable."

Breathe.

M tells me that she is supposed to go home today, but that she is terrified. She says that it would be easier for her to jump in front of the El, than it would be for her to face her family. She tells me that she is considering it.

Breathe.

I tell M that I hear her pain. I tell her that I hear her anger, her hurt. I ask M what her experience is like. I ask M what she believes would come after life. I ask M who she is angry at.

Breathe.

"God."
--

M's story is not unfamiliar to me. M is just one person in a sea of people who walk around suffering, unable to put their finger on the who, what, where, when and why of their pain. But, the pain is not imaginary. The pain should not be ignored. As a person of faith, I can wind words in order to shame those who have a desire to self-harm. Or, I can be present with them in the midst of their reality. I chose to be present with M. I did not tell her that what she did was wrong. I did not tell her not to kill herself when she left the hospital. [[ Not an easy task.]] Instead, I reflected back to M the pain that she was expressing. I heard her. I held her in the midst of the pain, right where she was. I attempted to communicate to this "unlucky, unloveable" woman, that I love her and God loves her.

When people ask me why I do this work, I often tell them that when I was growing up, I collected bells. For me, each bell represented a different time, place and person. As an adult, I realize that the collection was never about the bells, it was about the stories attached to the bell. The bell was a simple, concrete reminder of where I've been, what I've done and who in my life was there to love me. I have since moved on from collecting bells, but I have never stopped collecting stories. Chaplaincy provides an excellent medium for collecting stories. Of course, there are other Divine inspired reasons for my involvement in this work. However, I believe that God uses my love of stories in order to keep me in love with what I do.

The hardest part of being a chaplain is that I am only allowed to read excerpts of people's stories. Often, I get the brief intro or the conclusion of their story. However, sometimes I am lucky enough to get the climax, or the epilogue.

M's story for me, is an epilogue. She shared with me the conclusion of her story -- drinking the wine, taking the pills, awaiting death to take her over. But, then she woke up. I asked M, "Why do you think you were woken up?" M replied, "Because it wasn't my time to go. God still has plans for me."

M's story is not over. This new normal, post-suicide attempt, is simply an epilogue, an act two, a sequel to what she had previously known. And, if there's anything that this story lover knows about epilogues, it's that they almost always set the ground work necessary for a peaceful resolution. I hope to not read the end of M's new story. But, if I do, I will continue to love this "unlucky, unloveable" character.

In the Grip of God's Grace, 

Pastor Anitta +♡