lessons i learned in cpe: #1. everyone has a story

“Clinical Pastoral Education” (i.e., “CPE”) is a fancy name for a formal internship as a hospital chaplain.  It involves 100 hours of educational training—including group learning, written reflections, and one-on-one supervision—and 300 hours of clinical training on-site at a hospital with patients and staff. 
 
In my PC(USA) denomination, it’s a required program for any pastor hoping to be ordained as a Minister of the Word and Sacrament.  Why?  Because part of a pastor’s job is to offer spiritual care and support to church members who are experiencing crisis, whether that’s illness, the passing of a loved one, marital difficulties, job stress, loss of a home, parenting struggles, spiritual turmoil—you name it.  And that kind of care is hard.  Harder than you might think. 

St. Mark's Hospital (photo credit here)

I started my CPE program in January and finished at the end of April.  Most of my clinical hours involved either knocking on patients’ doors and offering to visit, or responding to traumas and hospital deaths in my overnight on-call shifts.  In those four short months, I encountered so much pain, suffering, and grief, and many resilient human beings.  And alongside all of that came an incredible amount of personal growth. 

 
In the spirit of reflection (which we newbie interns so often practiced in our small group), I thought I’d share some of the lessons I learned in this CPE process.  And because this could turn into a massively long post all-in-one, I decided to split them up over the next couple of weeks.  I hope that whether you’re in pain yourself, or in a position to support someone who is, you find some of these lessons as meaningful as I did, starting with…
 
Everyone has a story.
 
People enter the hospital from all walks of life:
Behind door #1 could be a white, middle-age, upper-class, Latter Day Saint woman who was just diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. 
Behind door #2 could be a Polynesian, evangelical, 40-year-old man with pneumonia. 
Behind door #3 could be a mixed-race, gay, 20-something who’s “spiritual, but not religious,” and is detoxing from a heroin overdose… or a teenage girl who just tried to commit suicide… or a 63-year-old former vet who’s experiencing homelessness… or a mom of three with terminal cancer.
 
Some of these people have supportive families, and some don’t.  Some have great medical insurance, and some don’t.  Some grew up in abusive families.  Some have lost their kids or grandkids, or a spouse, or a sister, or a parent.  Some pray to Jesus, and some pray to Allah.  Some are conservative, some are liberal, and some are sick of politics altogether.  Some have traveled the world, and some had just enough money to buy a bus ticket from Alabama looking for work in a pandemic.
 
Before you walk in a room, you just don’t know.  And if I saw these same people on the street, I wouldn’t have a clue.  But if there’s one thing I learned from CPE, it’s that everyone has a story.  Every random person you see in your daily life—from your next-door-neighbor to the woman bagging your groceries—has had some unbelievable things happen to them, and they still had the courage to get out of bed in the morning. 

This applies to you, too.  You are more complex than anyone else knows.  There are moments in your life that have been wonderful, and others that have sucked abysmally.  Congratulate yourself (and someone else) every so often.  The paths that wander through life are hard, and each of us is walking our own as best we can, one step at a time.