bible/readings/081225 
There’s a joke among seminarians and deacon candidates—don’t tell God what you won’t do. Because that’s exactly where He’ll send you. Not out of spite, but out of grace. And sometimes, that grace begins in places that feel like endings.
When I was asked during formation which ministries I preferred, I had plenty I admired: marriage prep, children’s ministry, homebound visits. But there was one I avoided naming—hospital ministry, especially bringing Viaticum to the dying. It felt too close, too intimate, too final.
And yet, not even a week after ordination, the phone rang. A man in ICU, in a coma, surrounded by machines and family. Could I come? I had my green ritual book. I had my class notes. What I didn’t have was any illusion that I was in control. I remembered what I'd heard from mentors: the strongest gift you can offer is presence.
So I prayed. Quietly, slowly: the Our Father, the Hail Mary, the Glory Be. I asked for peace. I asked for mercy. And then, I started the Rosary.
That’s when it happened.
The monitor that tracked his brainwaves—which had been all but flat—suddenly showed movement. With each response to the Hail Mary, the lines traced peaks and valleys. I wasn’t just praying—I was witnessing something holy. Something unseen responding to prayer. The silence had become a sanctuary.
📖 Scripture Speaks: Presence Over Power
Jesus tells us plainly: “Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom.” In that ICU room, I wasn’t leading—I was surrendering. Like a child, I trusted, and showed up.
The Gospel also speaks of the “little ones,” reminding us that their angels gaze upon the face of the Father. That moment taught me that the man before me was never alone. God had already filled the room.
Moses knew this kind of surrender. As he prepared to pass leadership to Joshua, he didn’t offer advice—he offered reassurance: “It is the LORD who marches before you… He will never fail you or forsake you.” In my presence, God became present. I wasn’t the comforter—I was the witness.
The Psalm echoes, “The portion of the Lord is his people.” Not the mighty, but the surrendered. Not the polished, but the present.
🌾 When the Ministry You Resist Becomes the One You Treasure
Hospital ministry is now one of the most beautiful parts of my diaconate. Not because it’s light, but because it’s luminous. In those moments—grief, silence, prayer—I’ve come to see Christ closer than ever. I’ve watched silence become sacrament. Death becomes a doorway. Prayer becomes peace.
That night didn’t change what I feared. It changed who I trusted.
I’ve been blessed to minister alongside priests whose gifts in this sacred space have taught me even more. But that first call into the ICU taught me this: God’s presence is our strength, our solace, and our hope. And He meets us—especially—in the places we said we wouldn't go.
🙏 A Prayer for When We Are Sent
Lord,You call us beyond our comfort, into places that humble and stretch us.
Give us courage to show up, grace to stay present, and faith to trust You’re already there.
Let Your presence be our peace.
Amen.
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