Being in hospital is frightening for most people. Often at our most vulnerable, it can be an exposing and intimidating experience, where our privacy and dignity is compromised and our control jeopardised. Surrounded by unfamiliar sights and sounds and by people who know more about what’s happening to us than we do. It’s enough to send us running for the hills.
Whether visiting someone or there for treatment ourselves, we enter a different world, our behaviour and freedoms dictated by the rules and priorities of health professionals and care-givers. We find ourselves needing to trust those treating us, placing ourselves in their hands and hoping that they make the right decisions for our care.
I’ve had a lot of hospital visits and procedures since December and realised very early in the sequence of events that this needed careful thought and prayer, as preparation for what was to come. It’s easy to feel ‘bounced’ when a diagnosis is made and things start to move quickly. It’s as though you’re constantly catching up with yourself, like what’s happening to your body is ahead of your thoughts and feelings.
When I found out that I needed surgery and would be in hospital for up to a week, I reflected on what that might mean for me. How did I feel about the prospect? How would I manage my emotions and what would my reaction be to pain? How could I still be me within all this?
I realised that I had a choice, and it was a choice I’d seen others make when faced with illness, pain and even death. It’s a choice that as Christians we all make every day, but that is brought into sharp focus when we’re faced with extreme situations. The choice is between following Christ and trusting Him, or going our own way. A choice between continuing to live and witness to Jesus, or hiding my faith, putting it to one side, keeping it secret. It sounds simple doesn’t it? Yet it’s so hard to do, especially when we’re fearful, in pain or in an unfamiliar environment.
I’ve always found it so sad to see faith wane when hardship comes along. People blaming God for the bad thing that’s happened to them as though He were zapping people with illness or death on a whim. Assuming that God has turned His back on them and is letting them down. It seems to me that times like this are when we need to cling ever harder to the cross, to come closer to God, who is always with us, and to lean into his strength when our own is failing us.
St Paul knew a lot about suffering and faith. He wrote to the Philippians about the suffering they were enduring and encouraged them to remain faithful, saying, ‘Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ’ (1:27 NIV).
I’ve never believed that God sends tough times in order to test us. Life just is tough sometimes. We live in a broken, imperfect world, where bad things happen to good and bad people alike (and the opposite is also true). Neither do I believe that ‘everything happens for a reason’, although I understand the need for us to make sense out of the senseless, random things that happen to us.
What I do believe is that we all face hard times in our lives that put our faith to the test and challenge our understanding of who we are in relation to God and the world. I’ve found that in turning to God rather than away from Him, I’ve been given peace beyond my understanding, joy in the simple, small things and strength that isn’t mine but His.
It’s back to the vulnerability I suppose. Am I willing to surrender all and allow God to take my weakness and use it? Can I stop pretending that I’m in control and admit to my vulnerability, even choose it? God’s way is not our way and what seems to us counterintuitive is actually the way we should go. Paul writes to the Corinthians about his encounter with Jesus,
‘But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong’. (2 Corinthians 12:9–10)
I had some amazing encounters in hospital and a couple of really profound conversations. Prompted by the holding cross on my bedside table, people seeing me pray, the simple question ‘What do you do?’, situations were shared, faith discussed, connection found and kindness offered. I’m so grateful to God for opening my eyes to the people who cared for me while dealing with so much trouble in their own lives. To be able to share moments of connection with them was a privilege and I’m still holding them in prayer.
God can take what is weak, what is broken and vulnerable and turn it into something amazing. After all turning our mourning into dancing, our sorrow into joy is His forte! All we have to do is let Him.
God bless
The Venerable Jane Proudfoot, Archdeacon of Macclesfield