Difficult Seasons

This post on Scot McKnight’s Jesus Creed blog is an honest letter from someone struggling with faith because of health issues. Those of us who spend time with people fighting cancer (or going through any of life’s other difficult challenges) face these faith questions frequently, both theirs and ours. Here’s my comment reproduced from the blog — not wisdom, just where I am.

What you’re struggling with is hard. Many of us have been, are, or will be struggling with precisely the same questions you’re asking. In fact it’s likely that we’ll go through this questioning multiple times in our lives.

After years of spending time journeying with people asking these questions, struggling with them myself, and studying lots of what’s been written on the subject, I’m convinced that in the end, it boils down to a simple decision we each have to make. We can choose to believe and trust — in spite of not understanding or liking what’s happening — or we can choose not to believe or trust (and still not understand or like what’s happening). That was Job’s decision — to maintain his integrity, his faith and trust in God. If we understood it, if we could explain it, if it all worked the way we wanted, then it wouldn’t be faith.

I choose to believe and trust, because I simply can’t imagine going through these trying and uncertain times without God. That’s my prayer for you as well.

Originally published in my personal blog.

Love is caring more about another’s happiness than your own. After reading this article this morning about Randy Pausch, the Carnegie-Mellon professor struggling with Pancreatic Cancer and author of “The Last Lecture,” these words just stuck in my mind.

I started mentally testing out this definition. Is it true about the people I say I love? Is it true about the people who say they love me? How does it fit with John 3:16 which describes God’s love, or the two great commandments, “Love God,” “Love others?” Seems to work pretty well!

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more useful this short but practical definition of love became. I thought about how it applied to marriage, to parenting, to grandparenting, and it works. I thought about how it applied to caregiving, and found that it applies to lots if not all of the tough situations and decisions caregivers face.

I guess some would argue with the “caring more” part, wanting it to be more “caring as much.” And I probably wouldn’t quibble about that. And I know some would want to define “happiness” to give it their own twist (hopefully not “This is for your own good — it hurts me more than it hurts you!”). And I probably would quibble some with folks trying to do that.

It just seems to be to be a good working definition of love to apply every day to everyone. Now that’s the challenge!

Originally published in my personal blog on June 12, 2008

Tuesdays are different because of where I spent Monday.

My heart is still engaged by the patients I visited on Monday. I replay our conversations. I continue to pray for them. I am still rejoicing in their victories, groaning over their setbacks.

I’m remembering holding the hand of the patient in excruciating pain. I am remembering the words of the patient who prayed for relief and got it.

My Tuesdays are different because of where I spent Monday.

Originally published in my personal blog.

Sometimes while doing chaplaincy rounds at M. D. Anderson, I happen to be in the right place at the right time to participate in a special moment.  Today I got to be present for another one of those times.

I’d just entered a patient room, a guy I’d visited last week as well.  He could hardly wait to tell me that the preacher and one of the elders from his home church had driven down from Oklahoma City to spend some time with him.  And almost before he could finish the sentence, in they walked along with the patient’s wife.

For the next 15 minutes, they took turns telling great church stories, which had us all (including the nurse who came in to do vitals) laughing, and enjoying each others’ company.  When the elder began telling about announcing to their Bible class yesterday morning that they were coming to Houston for this visit, both he and the patient shed tears — evidence of the close bond they share.  And then the five of us joined hands while the preacher of 60 years prayed about God’s power and our shared desire for healing.

On our way out after the prayer, the preacher explained to the patient that they would visit him four times during this trip, the second time tonight after dinner.  Each visit would be short, and would include prayer.

That these two men would drive from Oklahoma City to Houston speaks volumes about how valued this patient is to that church.  And there are no words to express how valuable it was to this patient to have two dear friends be present with him during this time of trial.

I want to be that kind of friend.  Because I need those kinds of friends.

Originally published in my personal blog.

In Part 1 and Part 2 I provided general information about making an ICU visit and the preparations I usually go through prior to walking into the ICU area.  In this post, I’ll talk some about the actual visit.

At M.D. Anderson, where I regularly make chaplaincy visits, the ICU units are organized as Pods, with rooms enclosed by glass sliding doors arranged around the stations where the medical staff works when not in a room.  That allows a visitor to see into the room before entering, and get some idea of what’s going on and who’s in the room.  After washing my hands, and sometimes putting on required protective gear such as gloves, a mask, and a gown, I gently knock on the door to let those inside know that I’m present.  I open the door and walk in, at the same time trying to get a picture of what’s going on.

I’ve learned to introduce myself clearly and slowly to give the patient and family members a chance to figure out who this new person is and why he’s there.  They’re used to people coming in and out frequently, but it gets confusing to figure out who’s who and why they’ve entered the room.  I also hand the patient or family member one of my business cards, as that also helps them process who I am.  The words I usually say are, “Hi, I’m Jim Hughes from Lifeline Chaplaincy.  We’re the church of Christ chaplaincy here in the Texas Medical Center, and I just wanted to come by and see how you’re doing today.”  Most of the folks I visit have identified themselves as members of the church of Christ, so that provides an immediate connection, even if they’re not familiar with Lifeline Chaplaincy.  Sometimes I add a little more information, especially if they’ve been referred to us asking that we visit.  I’ll tell them that, and mention the name of the person that asked us to come by.

Sometimes just that introduction is enough to start a conversation.  But most of the time, I ask a couple of questions to stimulate the conversation.  One that nearly always works well is, “So, what’s going on today?”  That gives them an option to say as little or as much as they want to, and I just listen, and try to respond in a way that they know I’ve heard them.  I find that I use words like, “Wow!” or “Oh My” a lot.  Sometimes my response may be, “Sounds like things are getting better, right?”  Other times I may respond, “Sounds like you’re having a tough time right now.”  Again, those are not only words to let them know I’m hearing what they’re saying, they’re also invitations to say more if they want to.  If they don’t bring it up in their conversation, which is maybe half the time, I’ll inquire about how they’re doing emotionally and spiritually.  Sometimes I’ll just ask using those words.  Other times, depending on how the conversation has gone to that point, I’ll use a phrase that’s a little different, like “How are you and God getting along these days?”  That’s a different question to many folks than “How’s your relationship with God?”

The conversation may be quite short, depending on circumstances.  Or it may go for a lengthy period.  We may talk about a lot of other things, and they may be important.  It’s not uncommon that the patient has a question that they’ve been thinking about, and want to have a discussion around that.  I’m there to go where they want to go — they lead, I follow.

At then end of the visit, I usually say something like, “I’d love to pray with you if that would be okay.”  Most of the time, the answer is “Please.”  But sometimes it’s not, and that’s okay.  If they want to pray, I also like to ask them, “What would you like to pray about today besides the medical issues going on?” or simply, “What would you like to pray for today.”  I’m surprised by how often there are other issues that are weighing on them that need prayer as well.

Then we pray, and what we pray about is what we’ve talked about during our visit.  In addition to carrying their needs and concerns to God, I want my wording of the prayer to convey to the patient and family that I’ve heard what they’ve shared with me, and that I am also concerned.  We generally then visit for another minute or so to close out the visit.

Sometimes, I’ll also have a visit with a family member in the waiting room.  That conversation usually follows the same general path, but with some additional conversation about how things are for them in the role of caregiver.  That gives an opportunity to talk about issues that the family member might not want to talk about in front of the patient.

No two situations are ever the same.  I remember one patient I visited weekly for a couple of months.  He couldn’t talk, but was awake.  I’d reintroduce myself, say a few words of encouragement, and pray with him. Sometimes the patients are delirious.  Sometimes they are alert and feeling good.  Sometimes their church experience has been good, sometimes it hasn’t.  Sometimes they’re getting better, sometimes they’re in the process of dying, or anywhere in between.  But what they all have in common is that they’re going through difficult days, they’re anxious, and they’re glad to have someone stop by and for a few moments share their life.

So what’s it like to make an ICU visit?  Seeing the pain, seeing people in such critical situations, seeing the effects of cancer up close and personal is not fun, sometimes even shocking even though I’ve been doing this for a while.  But making a deep connection with someone, even for a few minutes, is an amazing feeling.  And the more of life I experience, the more certain I am that making deep connections with others is what this life is all about.  Learning to love, as God is love.

Originally published in my personal blog.