On Death, Without Exaggeration

by Wislawa Szymborska

It can't take a joke,
find a star, make a bridge.
It knows nothing about weaving, mining, farming,
building ships, or baking cakes.

In our planning for tomorrow,
it has the final word,
which is always beside the point.

It can't even get the things done
that are part of its trade:
dig a grave,
make a coffin,
clean up after itself.

Preoccupied with killing,
it does the job awkwardly,
without system or skill.
As though each of us were its first kill.

Oh, it has its triumphs,
but look at its countless defeats,
missed blows,
and repeat attempts!

Sometimes it isn't strong enough
to swat a fly from the air.
Many are the caterpillars
that have outcrawled it.

All those bulbs, pods,
tentacles, fins, tracheae,
nuptial plumage, and winter fur
show that it has fallen behind
with its halfhearted work.

Ill will won't help
and even our lending a hand with wars and coups d'etat
is so far not enough.

Hearts beat inside eggs.
Babies' skeletons grow.
Seeds, hard at work, sprout their first tiny pair of leaves
and sometimes even tall trees fall away.

Whoever claims that it's omnipotent
is himself living proof
that it's not.

There's no life
that couldn't be immortal
if only for a moment.

Death
always arrives by that very moment too late.

In vain it tugs at the knob
of the invisible door.
As far as you've come
can't be undone.

On the occasion of the day after my third overnight on call

Oh my, am I exhausted. It isn't so much that I don't get sleep after an overnight on-call as it is the weariness of being on edge for 24 hours (even 6 of them are sleep). Being in a different bed than my own. Being away from home which is where I recharge my batteries (yes, before you ask, I am a robot - beware). So I'm just ready to be home. I'm ready to not work this weekend and for a visit with family. Alas... it is only Wednesday!!

Um... I'll write later? No promises. :D

On the Occasion of my very first on-call

Funny how being "on-call" is mere letters away from a "call." Or maybe not. Maybe there's no similarities between being responsible for the spiritual care of an entire hospital and being responsible for the spiritual care of an entire congregation. I happen to disagree.

We were trying to decide, earlier, about the frequency of pages we'd get during the night - during the time when we are the only chaplain for the hospital. What if we got code after code after code all night? I suppose it is possible, but nights go by with no calls. So I was curious what I should expect this evening, on the occasion of my first call. Would I have everything or nothing?

Of course, you can't expect drama all the time. Likewise, you can't expect smooth waters all the time. So what do you do? I think there is simply a state of preparedness. Of readiness. As time goes by, that sense and state of readiness becomes sharpened. You learn what to expect while at the same time expecting the unexpected.

Will I ever be comfortable with the unknown? To a certain degree, I think I will always be anxious about the future. I'm not a worrier, but I want to know what lies ahead. I want to know what's coming. I want to prepare for it. There's this beautiful song that my friend Rob shared with me and it has applicable lyrics. I've shared the song before on my blog. It's called Jesus by Brand New. Here is the line I find comfort and irony in tonight:

(Speaking to Jesus about his second coming) "So do you think we could work out a sign so that I'll know it's you and that it's over so I won't even try?"

I shiver even now as I listen to the song.

That's all. Now I'm off to do my rounds. Godbless.

The ramifications of my actions...

So I am on day 4 of CPE. That's Clinical Pastoral Education. It is a requirement for all Masters of Divinity students (at least at most seminaries); generally completed the summer after your first year of seminary. So there's a kind of mad dash for a spot in a hospital due to the nature of the groups which are generally small and attempt to be as diverse as possible. Because I wanted to get out of the city for the summer and to avoid the mad dash for CPE sites in Chicago, I looked at a hospital near my cousin in central Illinois with the intention that I would live with them (remember that new baby back in August? Yeah, I get to spend the summer listening to him giggle and watching him grow!). So here I am. Day four of CPE in central Illinois.

Again, sorry for being gone for so long. It took a lot of energy to finish up school. Those were some of the hardest papers I've ever had to write. I keep trying to figure out why and it boils down to the fact that they all had an element - if not a majority - of the personal laid over the academic. I could punch out a paper the night before it was due in undergrad (ask my roommates, I did) and receive an A. That is more than impossible now. So of course, that doesn't do much for my confidence in my own intelligence. I got a C this semester. That hurt. But then I got an A and an A- in two of my other classes. So... that seems odd.

But back to CPE. I'm here. It is rough. It is also richly rewarding. Typical, right? (Woah on the alliteration of the letter R, there.) We talked today about crisis care. It was AMAZING and I wanted to go down to the ER and hug someone. Well, not hug someone. That would be unwelcome gesture and a wrong way to start a visit and... yeah. But you know what I mean.

My twitter update last night said something about understanding nuances and living in a world that is both/and instead of either/or. There are no tried and true formulas for patient care that work across the board. Everyone is different. Everyone is at a different place. To assume that one "protocol" (to be entirely clinical) works for one situation should not lead you to assume that it will work in the next situation. This is where my anxiety starts to build. I want formulas!! I want scripts!! I want to know exactly what to say to someone before I walk into the room. I am uncomfortable in the realm of the unknown.

So that's what I'll be working on this summer. And not to be vague or anything, but I'll be working on seeing what the dark valley looks like. How else can I assure people they'll be okay there if I have not truly experienced the journey through my own grief? (My advisor is wicked smart.) Well, that's the gist of it. I'm scared to death and more excited than I can begin to share.

So... that's my summer. The start of my ministry.... where I balance reality and hope (that's from my advisor again - another wordy gem for me to cling to).

Welcome to my world. Welcome to CPE. I'll be here all summer. ;)