One of Those Days

by Joshua Hearne

Everybody has had “one of those days.” It must just be part of the human condition. I had one such “long day” a while back. It had started when I woke up an hour after my alarm had been set for. There is something uniquely awful about the feeling of looking at the clock when it is telling you that you’ve woken up late. Of course, you never get ready faster than when you have only ten minutes in which to get ready in.

After getting ready quickly, I headed out to the hospital to do my shift in Pastoral Care. On that day, I didn’t sit down. I didn’t even get to sit down to eat my lunch. Actually, I only got to eat half of my lunch and I had to eat that while going from one emergency to another. I was kicked out of a room at 1:30 because I had interrupted some little old lady’s “stories.” I learned, on that day, that visitation during “Days of our Lives” is a mistake. I responded to two heart attacks and one multiple vehicle crash in the ER. None of the families were what you might call nice. It’s hard to hold that against them since they were in the emergency room because of a relative but I’ve seen nicer folks among people in worse straits. I had visited all 6 families that I had previously visited in the ICU. I was present as two older people died and watched over the family and prayed with them. By the end of 8 hours, I was frazzled and emotionally drained. A chaplain may see many deaths,but they never get used to it. Death may become an acquaintance, but never a friend.

After my shift, I went home to get a shower and grab a bite to eat. As I was eating, I noticed that I was late for another activity that I had committed to attending. When I got to the church to spend time with the people, I discovered that they weren’t in a very good mood. Some of them had been talking about a particular theological position that they were against. I, actually, saw some merit in the position. As I, foolishly, tried to defend it to multiple people who had already decided that it was stupid and so were its supporters, I realized that this wouldn’t end well. Several hours later, my Christianity had been questioned. My faith had been doubted. My character had been accused. My integrity had been assaulted.

I was tired. I was frustrated. I was down. I was angry. I was cynical.

I vented to the empty seat in my car and my shifting knob. As it turns out, they’re excellent listeners but terrible talkers. It was another day that I found myself driving around town and looking for some reason to believe in a faith that was surrounded by dying and angry people. Yet another day to question what kind of faith it was that dwelled among the dead, dying, grieving, and suffering and was lampooned on both sides both for having faith and for not having the right faith. I drove for a while and really wondered why it was that I persisted in a faith like this.

I looked out the window and saw a church and shook my head. People going in and out and lauging and talking. They were happy but, surely, they didn’t dwell with the dead. Would their faith hold when they left that building? How many of them were producing some false outward appearance because it just was the thing you were supposed to do. I scoffed and cynically wondered, aloud to myself, “Why do I do this?”

There was a small red neon sign. It read: “Jesus still saves.”

It hit me that I did all this because my faith included an earnest hope in the redemption of all of us. My faith led me to dwell with death because we are being redeemed from the curse that brings our death. Though the corruption of humanity must stink in our noses daily, I was supposed to be offering hope of real and true redemption. Wasn’t this my message?

Yes, you’re dying but Jesus has overcome death. Yes, you’re sick but Jesus has overcome the decay and corruption of your body. Yes, you’re suffering but Jesus is redeeming the world that causes your suffering. Yes, you’re grieving but Jesus is undoing grief and its causes. Yes, you’re broken but Jesus is fixing us.

Yes, you’re cursed but Jesus still saves.

I turned around and headed home. I had to get ready to walk through the valley of the shadow of Death and proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of God: Our corruption is overcome by God’s goodness. Much is broken but all is being set right. I had another shift next morning.

8 Responses to One of Those Days

  1. Cynthia says:

    This was a very gripping post. Having been a PK and then in my own inner city ministry I understand that kicked around feeling…and I watched my dad pour himself out only to be crucified many times by an angry mob! But I love it that you noticed that neon sign and added such depth to your understanding of why things are as they are.Christ is that hope, that joy, that spring…and we are the Christ bearers to this broken world. I hope that,since adding the post , God came and poured some oil on your days woundings. Thank you for doing what you do day in and day out.

  2. Some days, when I am sick and tired of computer programming, I think that I would love to be a Pastor as I was trained to be. Other days, rather glad that I am not.

    Mike Bell

  3. theoldadam says:

    Hang in there, Mike.

    It sounds as though you’re getting a good taste of the theology of the cross.

  4. theoldadam says:

    Thanks Mike.

    Sorry about that, Joshua.

    My prayers are with you. (both of you)

    – Steve

  5. Josh says:

    I appreciate the prayers and thoughts.

    Luckily, this post is dated. I wrote this a couple years ago in response to a whole different set of events. This was during Div School. Not to say I don’t have “those days” now but I want everybody to know I’m okay.

  6. willohroots says:

    Josh, you made my day. Any story that ends with “Jesus still saves” is a good one.

  7. it is a brave and noble thing that honors the Lord to be a Christian who thinks outside the box. Honestly I never dreamed you would see past what was broken and what was still tried and true…and i have a soft spot in my heart for those that offer any comfort when we experience loss of those we love and loved us back…sometimes no words are necessary…a wet eye, a look that tells me you know it hurts, more powerful than words. even though this was written over 3 yrs ago, and you will probably never see this response, dont stop being vulnerable, dont stop having bad days…because it is one’s human-ness that makes them a vessel of God that those of us on the down-trodden side of the street can relate to and feel God through. I sound like i know you, i do…I watched you grow up in church….inside the box…I am pleasantly surprised….good work, Josh, from the down-trodden side of the street. Some days unfortunately are bad days…and those are the days I feel I have been in the presence of God, more so than at the church “picnic” with the naysayers. When you are dodging bullets from both sides, you are doing SOMETHING RIGHT….just look at Biblical history. I experienced another loss today, a death…and having no family to speak of to turn to anymore…I prayed…and I was googling something entirely different when a typo lead me here…God works in mysterious ways. Bless you and yours. Aunt Kathy
    ps i realize since this was written almost3 yrs ago, you will most likely never see it…but it made me feel better to write it…it is 6 am…perhaps i can sleep now. See, when you let your vulnerability show, you are ministering even when you dont realize it…maybe even years later while you lay sleeping. thank you…..keep up the good work…proud of you

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