Day 17 of Hope Recuperative Care and we have had six guests – one come and gone and holding steady at 5 persons = 100% capacity. This week was the toughest so far as we navigated the health complexities of one of our guests that we were quickly to discover was out of our scope. When we decided she needed to return to the hospital for more care she “practically chained herself to her bed,” so as not to have to go. I guess we’re nailing it on hospitality!
In the midst of the most stressful day, I was headed to a workshop and got the call from the HRC house to come and help. I turned the car around to head back, but then got another call to keep on my course – someone else would go in my place. Settling in at the workshop took intentionality. I put away my phone. I decided to pause my outside life and listen to what I might discover there if I only committed to fully participating.
As I’ve know for years (and seem to always forget), the gift of pause in moments of chaos has powerful possibility. It is truly rejuvenating and restoring when you give yourself over to it. It creates moments where we are reminded of who we are, where we’ve come from and the hope of what is to be.
The workshop leader started his teaching with the opening scene from the movie, “Patch Adams.” And instantly I remembered what it felt like to be a gentle hospital clown in Bethlehem, PA (part of the Bumper T Caring Clown organization, I volunteered for five years at St. Luke’s Hospital).
It hadn’t occurred to me how the experience of caring-clowning was already such a part of the present work I was doing right here and now at HRC. The connection was sweet, affirming and life giving. It’s one of those moments where you say, “Yes Lord. Thank you God! I am where I am supposed to be!”
The workshop would offer up “gems” of truth, assurance and reminders of why we are so moved to continue in work that is at times, challenging, hard and heart breaking. At the workshop, I was able to lament my frustrations about my feelings of inadequacy. During my time of pause, I admitted I was angry at the situation and was able to connect with my emotions of fear and uncertainty. Taking communion in our closing time together with fellow brothers and sisters who are also doing hard work for God, I reaffirmed my commitment in bread and wine to be willing to wake up yet another day, to have my butt kicked and my heart wrenched in the name of Jesus. God calls some of us to go to places that others won’t, to see things others can’t and to call these places home.