I should be in bed. Tomorrow will be a long, long day with patients, and families and staff and deadlines.

But I am still awake, reading, writing and pondering.

Chaplaincy is rewarding, enjoyable, frustrating and exhausting, all in the same breath. It’s embedded in a culture that values productivity and dollars (the bane of the healthcare industry) all the while having a concern for the life-saving work done every day.

And it brings personal faith, practice and life experience face-to-face with individuals who so desperately need a presence of hope, faith and trust when their life is falling apart around them. There’s a spiritual hunger, almost a famine. And the accompanying loss of an appetite for things which transcend earthly experiences and values is so keen, so strong.

I stood at the bedside of a very sick patient on Friday. I prayed silently. I watched as the nurse adjusted tubes, re-taped lines and checked IVs. I was present with a family member who asked the wrenching question of “why” — and did not have an answer, and did not try to offer one.

They weren’t really ‘hungry’ yet for an answer. But they might remember the chaplain who stood with them and had a source of Food, ready to share it.

As I have been sitting here tonight, it finally hit me. We are all hungry. We are all thirsty. We are all in need of the Bread of Life and the Living Water – the things which only God can offer, which only Jesus brings.

We are hungry… we are hungry… we are hungry for more of You.

We are thirsty, O Jesus, we are thirsty for more of You.