SignsI’m writing this between a hospital shift and a memorial service. I’m sitting in the sacristy, a space between the rest of the hospital and the chapel. My list of projects has given me a pile of papers to read between the time they were due and the time my grades are due. We’re living between birth, which chaplains seldom attend to, and death, which chaplains always attend to, at least at our place.

We spend a lot of time between.

I’m curious these days about what I do while I am between. I’m not sure that I’m satisfied with my choices. Between the time I start a project and finish it. Between the time I get home and the time I go to bed. Between the time I get up and the time I start my first appointment.

In thinking about what and while, I read this: “Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed.”

Between the time he woke up and the time the rest of the world woke up, while it was still dark, Jesus had conversation with his father. He didn’t work on his list, he talked about it. He didn’t worry about what was next or what had happened, he talked about it.

While he was between, he lived in a way that prepared himself for what was next.

I know some of the things I am between. I have no idea about some others. But while I am between, I need to talk a little more with God and fret a little less.

Perhaps you do, too.