Letting go of too much pressure.

It was a little stressful for me at the hospital where I work. Not because we were overwhelmed with patients. Our census was down a little because people are, perhaps, settling down right now. Driving slower maybe. Staying home maybe.

The stress came because we’re having to think through every step we take from a new level of uncertainty. Things that are habits now can’t be. And that creates stress.

I talk about it as a low-grade fever. Not of the body but of the emotions, of the spirit. It drains our energy as we wonder.

It’s not helpful, I don’t think, to ignore the fever, assuming we’ll get better. We’ve got to acknowledge the fear, help understand where it comes from, and then offer presence and hope and encouragement.

For me, I’m aware that I’m trying to make sense it lots of places right now and I’m confusing myself. I write, and I have this urge to write the most viral viral post about finding peace or caring about people or the right way to see people in the hospital something.

That’s too much pressure.

Many of us are feeling too much pressure right now. To have answers. To response well. To critique. To explain. To understand. To know the next three steps.

But we don’t. Know the next three steps. I mean.

Yesterday, we read the story of the woman from whom Jesus requested a drink of water. When that morning started, she had no idea that she’ meet Jesus, that she’d tell her whole town about the man who knew everything about her. There will be surprises today. Some of them really hard. But maybe, some will be really good.

Maybe, today, we’ll see Jesus. And he’ll ask us for water, and then teach us everything about ourselves.

I’d love that. If I do, I’ll let you know. The truth is, he may be at the hospital.


I have a monthly newsletter that talks about grief and helping and hospital. Here’s the March issue. It will give you a bunch of things to read.

I’ve published a few books, including one on Nehemiah. If you have some time and are looking for something to read, I invite you to look.

And Nancy makes pie for pi day every year. We ate it with our kids. It, and they, and she, are pretty awesome. I was aware of Jesus sitting with us.