On Friday I looked at my sheet of Spanish patients and was shocked to find the name of a woman with whom I’d spent almost two weeks praying with while she was on bedrest in the antepardum unit. She’d cried every time I prayed for her and she’d really struggled with laying in a bed alone in a dark room, but the words had just tumbled out of her mouth when she realized I was there to listen and I could understand.
When I walked into her room, she practically jumped out of her bed even though she was in a lot of pain because of her c-section. She kissed me and said she’d wanted me there to pray for her as she delivered on Friday but couldn’t remember my name. Her baby had been born pre-mature so he was in the nicu. That afternoon she had me paged when she went to see him and invited me to pray a prayer of joy for him and for God’s faithfulness.
So often in chaplaincy one doesn’t get to be present for moments of joy or thank God for the beauty of life. I shared in my part of patient’s journey which made sharing her joy, holding her hand, and the hand of hairy, little Edgar in the nicu that much more wonderful. When I left, the woman told me that I’d really increased her faith. It was with sincerity that I told her that she’d done the same for me.


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