The Emotional Ambush

“While he was still speaking to the people, behold, his mother and his brothers stood outside, asking to speak to him. But he replied to the man who told him, “Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?” And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother” (Matthew 12:48-50).

Some time ago, I responded to a call requesting a Chaplain to minister to a family who had experienced the trauma of losing a baby. The Emergency Department (E.D.) crew had worked very hard to save the life of the child but were unsuccessful in their attempts. After ministering to the family, I gathered the beleaguered E.D. team in a side room for a “decompression” meeting. The team was emotionally compromised but did not want to show evidence of the turmoil boiling beneath the façade of control. We went around the room discussing how they perceived their actions in the effort to save the child. Their answers were very antiseptic. That is, they talked about the mechanics of the efforts, but not their emotions in the heat of the event.

After listening and observing the very controlled efforts to keep their emotions bottled up, I asked the lead doctor if she and the team could have done anything differently. She very mechanically responded, “No, we followed procedures and we couldn’t have done anything else.”  I purposefully continued to guide the discussion, and eventually the team allowed their feelings to bubble up to the surface. The breakthrough of emotion was experienced across the room. They all either teared up or had a complete emotional breakdown, including uncontrollable sobbing. 

It was a necessity. It was not healthy for them to keep these emotions bottled up. The environment was “safe,” as it consisted of the entirety of their trauma team. They knew they were safe with me because I have been with them through many difficult situations. I knew that they were struggling emotionally, and they needed permission to grieve the loss of the child.

Many times, we care for those who are sick and in need of comfort, forgetting the men and women who are called upon day and night to care for the sick and dying. In caring for them, they are truly doing the will of the Father (Matthew 25:38). Let us lift them up in prayer daily and seek ways to relieve their moments of trial as well.