For the past few years I have been training to be a professional chaplain in a medical setting. One training regimen involved exposure in a level 1 trauma center and behavioral health unit. In my current professional setting, I work in Hospice care where I spend each day in this liminal space of death and dying. The patients I currently see are required to have a terminal diagnosis; given natural disease progression, these patients have six months of life or less to live. These spaces and places, whether in an emergency room, behavioral health unit, or on a memory care unit in a nursing home, have often led me to ask questions like, “Where is God in all of this? Where is God in all the midst of this loss and tragedy?”
I am grateful for the work of those who point me towards Christ’s provision in His work; such is the case in Glimmers of Grace by Kathryn Butler. I have followed her work for a couple of years and have recommended her in the past because of her ability to connect God’s presence and ability to work amid suffering and tragedy. Kathryn has a unique ability to speak to the intersection of faith and medicine. This ability results largely from her knowledge of the Scriptures and her work as a medical doctor spending time in various units. In her most recent work, Glimmers of Grace, she shares reflections on faith, suffering, and the goodness of God.
On Remembering
In the beginning of Glimmers of Grace, Kathryn invites the reader to join her in “remembering God’s steadfast love which covers us even during medical calamities.”[1] She helps the reader through this theme of remembering God’s goodness in three separate sections of her book: (1) lessons in the wilderness, (2) finding solace in who God is, and (3) remembering what God has done. I appreciate the focus she gives to the practice of remembering and establishing God’s goodness as a key element early on in her book.
Kathryn points to the Psalms as being foundational because they teach us how to remember God when we suffer. She writes, “as brothers and sisters in Christ our role is to guide the ill towards the life-giving waters again (John 7:38). Our role is to help them remember.”[2] This practice of remembering is built upon the patriarchs and the prophets from the Old Testament who warned the Israelites to remember God’s works.
This practice of remembering, especially amid loss and tragedy, may seem unrealistic at times. Kathryn responds, “Remembrance often offers more than wistful nostalgia and means more than the rapid firings of synapses in our brains. The sacrament of bread and wine teaches us that remembering is worship. When we remember the gospel, we see God’s grace at work, unfolding around us, enveloping us in love that burns away the darkness.”[3]
I have found this observation to be true even in my own work dealing with Hospice patients, especially those stricken with dementia or memory loss. When family members share how their loved ones who are stricken by this disease have some type of upbringing or foundation built upon the Scriptures, hymns, or spiritual poems, I often utilize the passages that are most familiar to them. In so doing, the person, in most cases, will begin reciting the Lord’s Prayer, read aloud various psalms, or sing along to those hymns that they memorized long ago. Those who are involved in ministry are tasked with coming alongside those who know Christ and reminding them of His love and presence.
God’s Presence
As mentioned previously for those working in any type of health care setting, the question, “Where is God in all of this suffering?”will often surface. This question illustrates, again, why I appreciate Kathryn’s work, especially in chapter twelve, where she focuses on Psalm 22:1–2, bringing attention to the phrase, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”
Alongside this Psalm, Kathryn uses her own personal experience of treating a teenager dying from a gunshot wound in an emergency department. She carefully walks the reader through her attempt to save this young man’s life only to find out that the gunshot wound had torn open his aorta, which emptied his blood volume into his chest. She then describes the feeling of having to explain his state to his aunt and uncle, saying, “Words felt too thick in my throat to give an answer,” only then to hear her trauma pager blaring yet again as another teenage kid came into the emergency department.[4] She then moved on to the next trauma.
Searching for God in these moments is overwhelming. Hence, I appreciate Kathryn’s vulnerability and transparency, because I believe this disposition gives a picture into the work of God. She writes,
When we despair in the dark of a hospital room or hovering the silent wake of a life vanished, or search for God on a windswept bridge, we can reap solace from Christ. When our eyes fail to discern evidence of God’s love we can cling to the truth that he knows our suffering, because he endured it too. And stunningly he bore it for us. He took on the full weight of our sin and absorbed the punishment we earned, purely out of loving obedience to the Father, who in turn so loved us (John 3:16).[5]
There are certainly no easy answers or ways to comfort a family like the one mentioned in Kathryn’s experience. No words or bandages can heal the hurt from such tragedy. Amid such pain, I am grateful for the reminder to rest in God’s presence and the assurance of Jesus’ work in His death and resurrection. As Kathryn writes, “Even when tragedy strikes, when sin maims all that we cherish like a blade through flesh, we have a promise no weapon can touch: the Lord will provide. He will, because it’s who he is. He will, because in Christ he’s done so already.”[6]
Do’s and Don’ts
Kathryn Butler’s work in Glimmers of Grace will be one that I reference quite often in my own personal story going forward. I appreciate her reflections and willingness to be honest about her own depression and anxiety while processing vicarious trauma. She actively invites us to remember God’s goodness and focus on His work, which is needed at the intersection of faith and medicine.
While I appreciate her self-reflections, her encouragements at the end of the book in both appendices one and two should not go unnoticed. She includes in appendix two “six things not to say” in a hospital setting, which include:
- “Do you know what you should do? You should try_____”,
- “Don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine,”
- “I know how you feel,”
- “Let me know if I can help in anyway,”
- “You look great/terrible,” or
- Saying anything to the medical team without your friend’s permission.[7]
Finding the right words or ways to comfort a family or friend can be difficult. She then offers five ways to help in these situations:
- Pray,
- Practice the ministry of presence,
- Be mindful of the patient’s needs above yours,
- Infuse God’s word into visits, and
- Reaffirm your friend’s identity in Christ.[8]
Conclusion
Working at the intersection of faith and medicine can be overwhelming at times. And I am continually amazed at how the sufficiency of Scripture can provide comfort and reassurance for the darkest moments. Kathryn Butler has put together another helpful resource, rooted in the Scriptures, and filled with self-reflection that will prompt the reader to examine his or her own ministry experiences. As I have done before, I highly recommend her work along with this new resource for anyone involved in healthcare ministry.
[1] Kathryn Butler, Glimmers of Grace: A Doctor’s Reflections on Faith, Suffering, and the Goodness of God (Wheaton: Crossway, 2021), 14.
[2] Ibid., 35.
[3] Ibid., 36.
[4] Ibid., 119.
[5] Ibid., 124.
[6] Ibid., 55.
[7] Ibid., 200–202.
[8] Ibid., 202–203.
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