September 8, 2009
And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they wen tot the tomb. They had been saying to one another, "who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" Mark 16:2-3
I printed out the census listing for the units I would visit, making small talk with my colleague. "Well, where shall I start today?"
It's often a question - where to start? The sickest ones? the youngest ones? the newest ones? the long-term ones? the birthday ones? I consider the many dimensions and realize that I like to vary my "staring point" each day.
Today's gospel reading speaks to me about their courage that they had - someone would be there to roll away the stone, they just didn't know who. Details, details. Someone would create the opening, so that Christ's resurrection could be known. Somehow, the solution would appear.
It's that way with chaplaincy. I never really know who is behind door #1, or door #2, or door #3. I never know who will roll away the "stone" for me from the entrance to my heart. Each day, each unit, each visit - it's different. Will it be the anxious grandmother? The worried wife? The delirious man with a detached "sitter" by his side? the young adult who just had a stroke? The self-identified crack addict who now prays in tongues?
That uncertainty, that promise of joy, that sense of keeping on going to each room, invigorates me. It's behind every door that my stone is rolled away.
How do you go anyway, not sure who will roll away your stone?