Hanging out in some hospitals

I’m hanging out at some hospitals today. Two people with Central connections are having surgery—in two different hospitals, in two different parts of the city. I don’t know when I’ll get back to the church— but that’s OK.

I like praying with people in hospitals. I like getting to know their loved ones who also gather at the hospital. I know some pastors these days don’t have the time or don’t feel the need or whatever—but I really like being there. When people are going through a difficult time (and I think being in the hospital preparing to “go under the knife” automatically qualifies one for having a “difficult time”), I love being able to go before the Lord with them—and remind them that the Great Physician is always “on call.”

I have had some different experiences in hospitals. People are not generally at their best in the hospital (again I think being in the hospital automatically exempts one from having to be “at their best”). I always try to knock on the door before entering a room—yet I have still managed to walk into some strange situations for which my seminary education did not prepare me. Seeing parishioners without wigs, teeth and necessary articles of clothing can be more than a little awkward (to say the least). I’ve been mistaken for a doctor, the husband or son or dad of the infirmed. I’ve been mistaken for the grandfather (ouch!) of a new born baby. Not known for having a particularly strong stomach, I have been in rooms when all sorts of bodily functions have been taking place—which has nearly caused my own unwanted bodily function.
Once a lady was about to have her foot amputated. It was the grossest thing in the world. Gangrene had set in. It looked bad. It smelled bad. It was bad. Even the medical team of foot specialists had never seen such a nasty foot—they were taking pictures. Knowing the grossness factor was off the charts, the doctors tried to shoo me from the room (to which I was more than happy to oblige) but the dear, sweet saintly lady just wanted her pastor to be by her side. “It’ll be alright, my pastor doesn’t mind staying.”
Ummm… my eyes, nose and stomach thank you very much for the confidence you have shown in me.

I’ve been with people when they have received wonderful news:
“The surgery went great!”
“The cancer is gone.”
“Your heart is better than ever.”
“He’s a boy!”

I’ve been with folks when they have received the worst possible news:
“I’m sorry, we couldn’t fix the problem.”
“It was far worse than we anticipated.”
“You should call in the family.”
“Your husband didn’t survive.”

Besides in churches, I’ve been able to pray with more people in hospitals than anyplace else. I’ve prayed for healing, salvation, peace and comfort in hospitals, and God has answered those prayers. In all my years of ministry, in various hospitals and seeing literally thousands of people—I only remember one time when someone refused prayer for their situation (I always ask permission to pray with the person). It’s been a privilege and honor and blessing to be in these circumstances, its one of the reasons I love being a pastor.

I write all of this to say— God works in hospitals. God still hears our prayers. God still heals. God still brings peace in the most trying, chaotic, awful times. So today, I’m hanging out at some hospitals anticipating God doing awesome things, and knowing that He will be with us.

Here are two things to take with you…

1) Pray always. If you know of someone or if you are going through a physical trial, keep on praying. Don’t quit. God hears! God heals! Praise the Lord!!

2) Visit or call or send a note or make a meal. In some way, make a connection with the one going through the trial. That’s a job not just for pastors. You too can be a blessing and know the joys of being blessed for your efforts!

Whether in a hospital or not… have a terrific day!