See My Pain?

I have started to do a daily volunteer chaplain duty at the local hospital. I go right after I drop my son off at High School. The Chaplain has me assigned to one particular wing of the hospital, and I make sure that those patients and the nurses station is visited. I've learned a lot about myself and about hurting people in the past few weeks. I'd like to tell you about some of the people I've met as I have opportunity. I will, of course, hide their identity. One thing about visiting in the hospital is that everyone looks their worst. They haven't been preening in the mirror. There are no snazzy clothes or excessive jewelry. No high-heels or sneakers. Just someone who is hurting, looks their worst, is at their most vulnerable, and is often lonely. In this way, hospital patients are equalized in ways they are not so equal in the public. Today I met a man who looked really low. The expression on his face let me know that he was very discouraged. I prayed with him and gave him the pamphlet of the day we were passing out. (It is a good one today - it has some passages to consider about prayer - and no commentary ... Just Scripture.) I told him that I hoped he would be gone tomorrow when I came by. He was moving very oddly and telling me that he would be here for a few days. What I didn't realize was that he wanted me to see his pain. He finally maneuvered his leg out from under the tray that was over his bed. There he showed me his leg, which had been amputated below the knee. It was gruesome. I'm glad I didn't faint. What is it about some people that they want to show you their scar? You've met them. "Hey, I just had bypass surgery, look here..." and before you know it the shirt is open and you are face to incision in a way that you didn't ask or want to be. My theory is that people want you to see their pain. Maybe not all people. But that is how some people will survive the ordeal. The fact that someone knows their pain somehow helps ease the burden. I think I have had in my mind that when Jesus touched the leper, he may have used an extended pinky and touched him on some place that didn't seem to be affected. But I think now that Jesus saw the pain, and he wanted the leper to know he saw it. He took his wounded partial hand in his own, placed his other hand over it. Perhaps he placed his palm on a face that was pock marked with open wounds and a cavern where a nose had been. All I had to do was look. I will remember that. I suppose it is just the beginning if I continue in this volunteer ministry. In a place like the hospital it is easy to see the pain. I cannot heal the pain, but perhaps I can help bear it. Who is in your life ... right now ... who just wants you to see their pain?