This has been a shift of visibly seeing how God reaches out and comforts people in stormy times.

I think we are all clinging on through storms at different times of our lives. Especially when struggling in mind, body or spirit, as healing prayers focus in on so well. We all need someone to remind us to look for the one who is reaching out to us through every storm, saying I am always with you. Trust me. Hold on. “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I” a rock to cling on to when everything else seems to be falling apart around you.

The sermon yesterday included a short film from the series The Chosen. I hadn't seen it for a while and it was emotional watching it again. It shows the scene of Jesus walking out on water to a boat full of scared Disciples. Peter walks out across the water to meet Jesus, but falls and calls out. In the scene, it shows Peter going under water and Jesus reaching his hand down into the water and pulling him back up. He then calms the storm and the scene ends in a peaceful stillness with the sun breaking through the clouds. The storm is over. I would really recommend watching this series; just that scene alone is so relatable to our struggles in our own storms. We need to call out for help and we need to have faith. As we were reminded in the sermon yesterday, we need to keep our eyes on Jesus. He is there at all times.

When I left the Poor Clares after one of my retreats, I was reminded that life is a constant prayer. Prayer never stops, it's always ongoing. And we can be comforted in knowing that God always knows what is in our hearts. He knows what is troubling us and what we need. He loves us and wants to help us through all the storms in our life. A great reminder of this is found in the poem below. Which a patient said they had been reminded of today:

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.
After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.
This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
“Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You'd walk with me all the way.
But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”
He whispered, “My precious child, I love you and will never leave you
Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
It was then that I carried you.”

I have met patients today all going through their own storms. This particular patient had suddenly realised they were being carried through it in the safest of arms. I revisited a patient this morning who is nearing the end of their life. They could no longer communicate clearly, so we communicated through the power of music. I have a playlist on Spotify which I have added songs to requested by patients, it has become more and more powerful as time has gone on. The patient was quite unsettled until I played their previously requested song alongside some of the Light for the World album. It was nice to see the comfort and peace this brought to the room and to the patient. I said the Lord's Prayer and left the room grateful that a smile had been brought to their face.

Another ward saw a patient shout out to me that they wanted to die - this is always challenging and distressing to hear. Comfort was again at hand through saying the Lord's Prayer which is always incredibly powerful when said in these times of great need. We focused on glimmers of hope and light. The sun started to shine through the clouds onto the sea at this time and so in this, hope was to be found for the moment. I remember one patient saying that the rays of the sun hitting the water were "Jacobs Ladders" and that souls were being carried to heaven in these beams of light.

Another great honour of being a hospital chaplain is being entrusted with taking Holy Communion to patients. This brings so much strength, hope and peace. One patient this afternoon was also having a hard time, however through receiving Communion, a holding stone and a Bible, and being able to ground themselves again through the breath prayer:

Breathe in and and say:
“yet I am always with you”

Breathe out and say:
“You hold me by my right hand“

They were able to draw on some strength that can only come from God during times of great suffering and sadness. They apologised to me for spilling all their stories and emotions out - it is one of the biggest privileges to be able to hold space for patients in these moments, to calm the storm. Although they say chaplains go to patients empty handed, they leave having been strengthened and sustained themselves. This patient shared with me about a trip to Gethsemane and how powerful it was there. This was my personal focus all of Lent last year, and as we head towards Lent again, it was a blessing to be reminded of the words “not my will, but your will be done”. Trust in times of uncertainty and letting go of control.

Comfort and calm is also found in the familiar face. One patient came back in that I had seen at Christmas, as I went to the ward they called me over and we caught up. It was great to see how their faith had been sustained. Perhaps this also encouraged the patient in the next bed to talk with me as they reconnected with a faith they now needed to draw strength from more than ever. They were reassured to know that God is always in our hearts, and our life is an ongoing prayer.

Tucked away in the corner of another ward, a patient shared their great fear of death and battled with a way to find some hope. We spoke about both science and God and how we have faith and hope in something more, beyond our understanding. Another patient shared the grief of having lost their long-term partner. But memories remain, patients often having beautiful photos around them. As well as the love held in our hearts. “Grief is the price we pay for love” and as I have shared many times, we are all walking through the valley together, sometimes loved ones have to go on ahead. But we will catch up. By the end of our conversations the patients have always drawn some strength from whatever gives them meaning and purpose. That doesn't have to be any kind of faith or God. As I say to those who ask what on earth a Chaplain is, we are mainly here as a listening ear. For all faiths and none. It's exactly my faith that means I look to love and care for all I encounter as that's what God has called us to do. That love and care is helping people look for hope and whatever can bring comfort in a storm. As the day ends I pray that I have been able to help calm some of those storms.

Matthew 8:23-27 New International Version (NIV)

The disciples went and woke him, saying, “Lord, save us! We're going to drown!” He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

I'm also reminded of this song today:

Calm Me, Lord
Song by Kevin Mayhew Ltd and Margaret Rizza

Calm me Lord, as You calmed the storm
Still me Lord, keep me from harm
Let all the tumult within me cease
Enfold me, Lord in Your peace