Paul Byrd
Program Director, Georgia Rural Health Innovation Center, Mercer University School of Medicine, Cumming, Ga.
Two years ago, I stepped away from chaplaincy and into a new role helping ministers and healthcare providers create collaborations to improve health disparities in rural communities. While it is important work, I have missed the connection to the sacred space of direct ministry. As I struggled to find perspective, I had an experience that has helped me connect to the vitality of this new context.
Late last year, while attending a health fair that we organized with one of the faith/health collaborations that our program helped to resource, my wife, Terri, and I visited the church where blood donations were being received and where Terri would make a blood donation. The American Red Cross was set up in a beautiful worship space with high ceilings and stained-glass windows. A piano and lectern on the chancel and an altar front and center. The patient exam tables for donating blood were placed among the chairs where the congregation would normally sit. Worship music flowed from a small speaker and filled the room. It was beautiful, peaceful and calming.
As we talked with the nurse, a song began to play and I began to sing along:
“I need you, you need me,
We’re all a part of God’s body.
Stand with me, agree with me.
We’re all a part of God’s body.”
To our delight, Terri’s nurse joined in:
“It is God’s will that every need be supplied.
You are important to me, I need you to survive.”
Here in rural Georgia where there is so much health disparity and where race and religion can often divide, we found ourselves in a profoundly holy moment. A young African-American nurse and two older white people in a predominantly white church singing to one another about how we can prayerfully pledge to care for one another spiritually and tangibly.
“I pray for you, you pray for me.
I love you, I need you to survive.
I won’t harm you with words from my mouth.
I love you, I need you to survive.”
As Terri began her donation, something happened. Her normally upbeat voice got quiet, the color left her face, and her hand became clammy. She whispered, “I don’t feel good...I think I’m going to faint.”
Before I could even think, the nurse calmly and quickly jumped to Terri’s aid. Her head was lowered, her feet raised, cold wet towels were placed on her head and neck. Her caregiver spoke gently, reassuring her. After a few frightening minutes, she was back. Her color and speech returned to normal. She was able to complete her donation.
However, in those few, fragile moments, we were invited into the sacred space of personally understanding the impact of ministry in this new context and doing the holy work of bringing people together to save lives.
Now, when I find myself at my office desk or as I sit in meetings about building collaborations and begin missing the holy moments, I stop and hum that lovely chorus. I’m taken back to that sacred space and inspired to lean into the difference that this new role can make.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
On your phone or computer, find Hezekiah Walker’s song, “I Need You to Survive” (It can be found on YouTube or through most music apps.) As you listen, let the lyrics wash over you. Prayerfully notice what word or phrase stands out for you today. Consider sharing this line with a friend or, in the style of Lectio Divina, take this word or phrase to God in prayer, pondering what God is speaking to you through it.
Pray. . .Give. . .Go.
