What bothers us can easily reflect in our health

(Initials of C.A. are used to grant anonymity.)

People often ask "what do chaplains do." Below a "patient verbatim" extends an example of how a chaplain works with a patient.

While doing patient rounds, a doctor asked me to see a patient. He handed me a room number and said, “This woman is having severe pain in her stomach. Yet, after doing every possible test I cannot find a cause.”

When I arrive in her room the woman is curled up in a ball and does not appear to want a visitor. I sit in a chair nearby. Time passes. Inwardly, I pray for wisdom, as compassion is already there. In time, she faces me. I say, “Your doctor tells me you have a lot of pain.”

She says, “Yes, I do. But he isn’t able to help me. All my tests are coming back normal.”

I see her eyes are beginning to well up with tears.

Tell me about yourself, C.A.” I ask.

“Well, I’m in my sixties. These were supposed to be my Golden Years.”

“Aside from being sick, right now, what do you find to be enjoyable in life?”

“Nothing.” Now, tears are slowly making little paths on her cheeks.

“Are you retired?”

“I was forced to leave work.”

“What does it mean to you to be forced to stop working?”

“It is hell! That’s what it is,” she says with great fervor. “I think that is why I’m in this hospital bed!”

For the next hour, the woman reveals her story. Her elderly mother became ill two years before. There is no other family member who can take care of her mother except this daughter. She speaks of feeling saddled with a situation she has no way of avoiding. Now, her face hardens as her history spills out. Her mother abused her while she was a child. No measure of a meaningful relationship developed between them. Tears begin to actively flow. I wait, knowing there is more. Yes, now the sobs are coming as she tells of being a Christian . . . yet holding hate for her mother all these years.

“I tried to care for her…but those memories just kept coming back. I never felt safe around her. Even as an adult, she pushed my buttons. I think she must have enjoyed it!”

Sobbing begins again. (Many tears have accumulated through a lifetime of resenting this mother.) Here, in the hospital, she faces her sorrow full throttle.

“Have you ever talked to anyone about this?” I ask.

“No. I’ve been too ashamed to admit this. It is something I can’t get over.”

“What about your pastor. Do you think it could be time to let your pastor in on this?”

“No!” She nearly shouts. I am a deacon in my church. Please understand! I cannot go to him!”

“OK, I understand that. You said earlier that you believe your stomach pain has to do with the care you feel duty-bound to give your mother. It is obvious a lot of emotion is present as regards this relationship. Would you like to pray with me for a healing of those painful memories?”

“Yes. But first…I need to tell you how sorry I am for what I have done.” Silence follows. I know not to talk when there is this kind of a pause. She is gathering courage to go on.

“I have been hitting my mother.”

“Oh,” I say. While taking this in I’m searching for words. A big breath is needed as I realize this confession carries as much guilt and shame for this patient as it took courage to tell me.

I say to her, “I am so sorry. This is a lot of pain for you, isn’t it?”

She covers her mouth, then says, “Oh, yes! And, now I’ve finally told someone. I hate myself for doing this–and I am afraid I will do it again!”

Knowing that within this hospital we are a team and that we will not let that happen again to this woman’s mother, I continue here. I can extend to her what priests, pastors, and chaplains find in our hearts for those who confess.

“God forgives when we confess our sins. God waits until we are ready to bring Him into our pain.”

She cries again, saying, “I have asked to be forgiven every time I hit her. I fear her verbal jabs at me. At times, these are more than I can bear and I’m not able to control myself. Now, I can’t forgive myself for how many times I’ve slapped her face–even while hating myself for doing it.”

“My dear lady, things will change now that you have told me this. Our staff here at the hospital will see to that. Changes will be made. You will no longer be taking care of your mother.”

“What will happen to her?” She is startled. Her elderly mother’s care fell to her, as her mom has no money to provide for herself.

“I can assure you that this is beyond you, now. Experts will figure out what happens next. Your mother will be cared for. And you will not be doing the care. That is something you can count on.”

I feel sadness for this woman, knowing the state steps in when elder abuse is involved. Here lies a safety issue that mandates reporting. Therefore, this patient’s future remains to be seen, as elder abuse compels a legal judgment. I hope that judgment can be delivered with compassion. Still, my part of the hospital’s teamwork is to tend to the patient’s spiritual care. I encourage her to seek her pastor’s help from here on. priests, rabbis, pastors and imams are part of the hospital team. Although not on the hospital’s staff, all of them are important players in the work of helping and healing patients. As a hospital chaplain, knowing this is comforting. It is of vital importance that ongoing spiritual care be made available to this woman. She will soon leave the hospital and no doubt receive the emotional care, going forward as decisions are made. The significance of abusing her mother will be felt—and dealt with.

“Would you like for me to read a passage of Scripture?” I ask.

“Yes. I would like that.”

I turn to Isaiah 1:18-19 and say, “Let me condense this passage a little bit to show what happened just before God spoke these words to His children. God was tired of watching sin continue within the ranks of His chosen people. God had succored them and performed outstanding miracles among them. He had extended mercy over and over again while seeing their bad behavior. But they continued doing what they knew they should not do.”

I am watching her face while talking, making sure she sees my compassion, not judgment.

"God faces up to the children of Israel. He tells them that their behavior has to change. He then says something that may be very meaningful to you today. God says they are forgiven–fully cleansed–and will meet with blessing if only they will be obedient and have a change of heart. God leaves no doubt in their minds what He wants. He expects His people to follow the ways and the will of the Lord."

I pause, watching her demeanor. She is with me, soaking in what I’m saying. So, I continue, “Now, listen to these beautiful words: ‘Come now, let us reason together, though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow, though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.’ God is assuring His people that once forgiveness is given, the heart is cleansed. God does not hold past sins against us when we are truly sorry.”

She looked at me with hope in her eyes. In the stillness of a long gaze, I sensed something was already taking place in her heart. I want her to take the lead. So, I wait.

“Would you please pray with me?” she asks.

“Certainly, I will. But I would like you to start the prayer.”

She is willing and I am moved while witnessing her fervent prayer for her heart to be cleansed “as white as snow.” She also asks God for a change of heart toward her mother. I see a sincere outpouring of sorrow to God. I pray next, asking for this patient to begin the process of forgiving her mother for those difficult, early years–and for the healing of her mind, her spirit, and her body. Together we say The Lord’s prayer. Afterwards, she adds, “Thank you, God. I feel such peace!”

I know this patient will be discharged soon. I have no idea what will take place for her once a social worker and I talk. It will be the social worker’s job to report the abuse to the authorities. Then, the state will make sure continued care is provided for her mother. By the time this patient is discharged, the team here will have a plan in place for her mother’s ongoing care.

Working as a staff hospital chaplain means the next day’s demands take priority over the previous day’s challenges. I wish to know more about the future of this patient. Yet, part of a chaplain’s job is to let go and move on. Back at the chapel, however, I had some emotions to work through and more prayers to say for these two women. Even to this day, I pray for each of them to be healed whenever the Holy Spirit brings them to mind.