Words on paper

I don't normally attach much significance to certificates and diplomas (I'd have to think long and hard about where my high school and college diplomas are), but I earned every drop of ink on this one.

I went into the summer chaplaincy program to complete my field education requirement for Princeton, and because I thought it would be a good experience. Even going in, I knew that the church was but a part of the full scope of ministry. But I didn't expect to fall in love with the work, as challenging as it could be. It's not in my nature to casually approach strangers and strike up a conversation. Yet the hospital is conducive to reflection--there's only so much Jerry Springer and Let's Make a Deal that a person can watch without wanting to pull their hair out--and for the most part, people wanted to talk. Even so, I was surprised at how quickly people were willing to share intimate details of their life--their worries, their fears, their doubts--with a complete stranger.

Looking back, one of my favorite aspects of the work was not knowing what I would encounter each day. Each room was a blank canvas. Would I help a young woman to understand that God can forgive that for which she cannot forgive herself? Would I be with a family as they said their final goodbye to their loved one? Would I be transfixed by the determination of a young man paralyzed by the bullet that had passed through his neck? The only thing thing I knew each day was that I would in some way be humbled and amazed.

My supervisor told me that I would have a hard time going back to the church after this experience. Forget the church, I'm going to have a hard time sitting in another year of classes: worship, polity. Polity! Seriously? "But what about the academic rigors that await--the exams, the projects, the papers?" Just words on paper.