This week has been an emotionally and physically demanding week for me on many fronts. To begin with, the commute into and home from London each day has been tiring. The long drive, not being a morning person, and having to be up at 5am (which is an ungodly hour of the day in my world) has been a great challenge. My physical self is exhausted.
The anxiety I have been feeling regarding the course hasn’t helped much. Coming out of a negative experience of hospital chaplaincy from Field Ed this year coupled with working in a Mental Hospital, of which I know nothing, has been a frightening venture. I have found that my emotional self is also exhausted.
I have been feeling very taxed this week. Slightly guilty for not being home with my children, doing the domestic things I have always done, slightly over extended with this plus my job, and incredibly overwhelmed by the number of papers that were required this week.
My biggest hurdle, however, was simply the experience of starting something new and unfamiliar. Arriving and being presented with keys to the fire alarm and washrooms was surprising. I not only felt that I was in an unfamiliar place, I felt like I was in a very different world. I’m not sure what I had expected, but what I felt was a swelling amount of terror. I would like to attribute that to some bad movies, and my imagination, but realistically, I think I can also add to that list, ignorance.
As the day progressed, I wondered a bit at my door analogy. When during morning devotions the chaplain that was leading asked what kind of door we had, my answer was a prison door. I wasn’t sure why that was, but after thinking on it for a number of hours, I realized where that had come from. I was feeling trapped. I am in a process that is out of my control, and that I don’t fully understand. I know that God is asking me to go places and do things I never imagined I would, but I’m not yet sure where the road will lead. I was and am still uncomfortable in the process. I was uncomfortable with the set of keys. I was feeling trapped in a situation that I wasn’t sure I could make sense of.
Going to the ward was likely my breaking point for the day. The realization that people were locked in and that I would be locking myself in with them was not comforting, partially because I didn’t know what I was walking into, what I would see, or experience. Once through the hallway and into the common room of the ward, I felt a little more relaxed. Not much, but enough that I realized that I had been holding my breath.
I went home stressed, and drained and immediately went to bed. To add to my guilt, my son came home from Cubs and brought me a gift, and I was too tired to notice and told him to just put it on the night stand. The morning sun revealed a pot of flowers he had made, and the guilt piled on.
Morning number 2 had me crying most of the way to London, partially because of the flowers, but more for the patients of the hospital. My feeling was that these people were in prison. Whether it was a prison in their lives or minds, or the physical prison of being locked on a ward, the reality for me was that these people were in a prison, and they had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve this.
This, I think, was a huge change in my mindset. In looking for CPE units, I initially was looking for a prison setting. This is a different type of prison. These people are here, not because of something they have done, but they are prisoners none the less.
By the end of day 2, I continued to be physically exhausted, and emotionally drained, but I slept much better and found I was ready to tackle day 3.
I imagine that there will be great challenges ahead. I imagine that there will continue to be moments of stress and anxiety for me as I learn and grow, but I find that the approach to teaching to date, has been gentle and helpful and useful. I’m finding that the more I learn, about the illnesses, about the people, about the hospital, the less distressed I am, the more I am ready to take on the challenges that are ahead.
So, where is God in this? Turns out, I found him in a familiar place for me! In a casual conversation that had nothing to do with my placement, someone was telling me about a Bible study she had just attended. I asked what they were studying, and she told me that they were looking at Psalm 69 and talking about stress. I was certainly stressed, so I looked up Psalm 69 and read it when I woke up the next morning, and found that it was a lament of David. That was not so surprising but was a great reminder that David has been a great source of inspiration and encouragement for me throughout the last number of years as I have been discerning God’s call in my life. This was one more moment, where God has spoken to me through David. I was reminded that no matter where we go, no matter how bad we think things are, no matter how scared we may be, God is always there. He will not send me where He is not, and trusting in that I can move forward.


The LORD hears the needy
and does not despise his captive people.
Psalm 69:33