“Blessed are those
who mourn, for they will be comforted." ~ Mathew 5:4
In the quiet corners of the city’s
busiest hospital, she rests alone briefly in order to prevent her body from
spiraling into exhaustion. Chaplain Margaret had just watched a young man being
resuscitated in the ER. He didn’t make it. Soon she’ll be tasked
with consoling the grieving family when they arrive as their nightmare unfolds.
She sees gunshot wounds, car accidents, fires, falls,
stabbings, strokes, and heart attacks daily. Almost every person was living a
perfectly normal routine before their life was irreversibly changed by the
universe crashing in.
Her job is a mix between a pastor and a therapist. Margaret
enters every hospital room as a presence with open arms and ears. A subtle panic
stirs in her chest waking a profound appreciation for the responsibility she
bears.
Her role will be that of a “grief catcher.” When a person
grieves, very often they’re falling. Falling into a sudden vacuum of loss,
falling into overwhelming emotions, falling into a 'new normal.' She’ll try to
catch them... not to block their anguish, but be with them on the way down.
The deceased also requires catching. Grieving isn’t always
about letting go of the departed, but catching their memory. People tend to
share stories about their loved ones. In a few moments, Margaret will help
capture the young man’s story - the texture of the way he laughed, spoke, or
sang in the shower so the bereaved can ignite an eternal flame of remembrances before re-entering the hectic crush of living.
The father cried as if his brain was being shredded from the
inside. Emotional pain flowed out of Mom’s every pore. From her lungs came a
cry so raw that even the eyes of the hospital staff were suddenly wet with
tears.
Then she went to work – listening, calming, and reassuring
until the family left the hospital.
Years ago, a physician asked Margaret if her chaplain ministry
had become easier or harder with time. After pausing to reflect, she admitted, “It’s
easier because, after over 20 years, I feel calmer and more solid when
confronted with suffering and usually feel better equipped to respond in ways
that seem helpful. But it’s harder, also, because my heart is softer. Somehow,
I feel the depth of the pain before me at a much deeper level.”
Blessed are those who serve.
Light of life, help us to not be afraid and
lean on You for comfort and peace. Death is an unknown and anxious experience. Calm
our spirits and give us peace when we journey with You into eternal life - no
more pain, no more weeping, only Light and Love. Amen.
