It is rare that the only sounds in the house are the coffee maker and the cat on the back porch meowing as I’m late with her breakfast. This doesn't always happen, so it’s an opportunity for focus and renewal, but most importantly for paying attention to God. I need this anchor of stability, because I’m not exempt from what’s happening around me.

None of us stand outside this crisis. In our own ways, we are embedded in the same kinds of challenges, losses, questions, and uncertainties. How are you holding up and where are you finding stability? What questions pop up in your personal processing? In your ministry? The most pressing question for me is, how are we supposed to navigate the challenge of pastoral care?

In my experience, every morning begins with the expectation of change and new limitations. Our hospice team listens daily to the latest regulations coming from CMS and CDC as well as protocol changes within our organization. Thrown into the mix are the ever-shifting rules of living facilities and the hospital. You can feel the stressful tension in the community. Families and those on our service are caught in the middle as they try to make all the right decisions and maintain contact.

Our team has recently reached a plateau of semi-normalcy as we learn to chart the complicated new landscape and prepare for what might be next. I’m encouraged by many who are finding meaningful ways to stay connected, like a son talking to his dad outside his window on the phone or a nurse lending her tablet so a family could sing favorite hymns to their mother. People are finding their way through the new terrain. Themes of needs are starting to take shape, and while they are still pressing, they no longer have the sharp edge of being novel.

We appear to be appropriately moving through the phases of crisis. People’s responses are beginning to take on positive tones of creativity and images of renewal are forming. Thought processes are shifting to proactive problem solving, and there is encouraging talk about finding a “new normal.” Broadly speaking, we are in what is sometimes called the adjustment phase. Or are we?

How does the landscape look right now from your vantage point? How are things progressing? I think these questions are crucial, because they allow us to see how this has a different effect on everyone, and we must understand this in order to minister appropriately. Take a second to note your emotional reaction to my description above. Were you nodding along or did your pulse quicken as you felt the need to correct or qualify?

Family conflict often arises when people who are grieving differently fail to recognize this and communicate that reality with each other. Crisis on a large scale is no different. We have entered an adjustment phase from my vantage point, but then I hear stories from a minister friend in New York. I hear from a son quarantined in a coastal city anxiously waiting to hear the test results on his mom in another state. I hear the moral dilemma of a woman needing to be with her dying father but wanting to do what’s socially responsible. I’ve replayed in my head the phone conversation with a grandson who broke down sobbing because he has not been able to check on his declining grandfather. I hear stories of loss after loss and incredible exhaustion. And you do too.

My first responsibility in engaging pastoral care right now is developing awareness of my own processing. I can easily confuse my interpretation of the situation with everyone’s reality. Self-differentiation and spiritual stability in leadership are absolute necessities for compassionate, level-headed, and sustainable care.

My second responsibility is to set aside my expertise and perspective and commit to deep listening. I believe that there is currently an acute need for spiritual care. Unfortunately, many new obstacles have arisen as well, including limitations on communication and presence. As you work through these challenges, I’d like to end with a few practical suggestions on engaging these needed pastoral conversations:

1. With some, engage thoughts before feelings. Those who do not like showing vulnerability (especially over the phone) will often more readily share their thoughts. This first step provides a safe opportunity for feelings to naturally surface.

2. Utilize understatement. The conversational goal is not to guess exactly what someone is experiencing but to encourage them to describe it in their own words. Repeating things back with understatement allows room for them to correct you with elaboration and nuance.

3. Honor their role. Some people step into the role of protector or provider and are not interested in talking about how they are doing. However, the conversation changes the moment you share an interest in what they care about: their loved ones.

4. Pendulate. Sometimes we hit a saturation point. People need a break from talking about deep issues and will swing over to lighthearted topics before swinging back later. This process isn’t avoidance but an appropriate coping mechanism. Allowing this space can be an effective pastoral skill for debriefing.