Hope Springs Forth
Throughout the year, we have continued to celebrate the 90th anniversary of The Upper Room daily Read More

In today’s meditation, I reflected on the time I volunteered as a chaplain just days after a mass shooting in a small rural town. Stepping into the heart of a tragedy stood worlds apart from my usual work as a hospital chaplain in a major city. It stretched me in ways I hadn’t expected. Even so, I remained present, offered consolation, and brought God’s presence.
In my regular role, I offered pastoral care to patients facing illness—praying with them for peace. I supported families grieving the loss of health for their loved ones, offering comfort and reassurance. Another part of my work involved end-of-life care for patients and their families, giving comfort and prayer. As I ministered to people in the hospital, I sensed God’s grace and love flowing toward them.
I chose chaplaincy because of my own story. I found encouragement in Christ during seasons of grief and pain, and the way he carried me through created deep compassion for others facing hardship. I knew that just as Christ met me, he would also meet others in their anguish, fear, and stress. I wanted to walk with patients as Christ walked with me.
I birthed two sons with a rare and chronic disease, and my heart first reeled with disbelief, shock, anger, guilt, sadness, and depression. Fear and worry gripped me so tightly that functioning felt impossible. In time, I recognized those emotions as part of the grief process. I cried out to God in desperation, begging for the strength to survive each day. In those fragile moments, I could only take the next step. God met me daily, offering comfort and strength precisely when I needed them. The faithful love and tenderness of God came through again and again.
Even though my sons are adults now, I still grieve what they have lost and the limitations they live with. Whenever sadness or unrest rises, I run to my Savior for peace. Once again, Christ’s faithfulness and compassion meet me.
Out of my own experience with loss and my search for comfort, I decided to train and work as a chaplain. I can sit with patients and families in their grief because God has sat with me in mine.
The apostle Paul endured many trials, and he wrote that the comfort he received from God enabled him to comfort others: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Cor. 1:3–4, NIV).
From my work as a chaplain, I wrote a devotional book containing sixty devotions for those experiencing loss. God can use the pain you walk through and the questions you wrestle with to walk with others in their own pain.
