Journal of Sacred Work

Today's meditation was written by Cathy Self, Senior Vice-President for the Baptist Healing Trust.

     The shadows and light of the caregiver's home are filled with the shadows and light of the caregiver. The halls of many hospitals hold pictures and plaques recognizing the brightest and best among us. Sometimes the awards are for loyalty, productivity, exemplary, or even heroic behavior. Almost every organization has one – the heroes' walk of fame, prominently displayed and brightly lit.  

     But my memories are filled with images of the quiet heroes, the ones who stand in the shadow of others more visible and acclaimed. You would not know her name because she moves without calling attention to herself and speaks almost in a whisper. She has never been nominated for "Employee of the Year" and will never see her name published in the annals of medicine. Letters of recognition come and go but she is never referred to by name, just by her touch, her grace, her presence.

     My memories are filled with the face of a caregiver whose smile is mysterious and reminiscent of the Mona Lisa. He is available when needed, and just as willing to take the day off when the budget is too tight and someone must make the sacrifice. He goes where he is assigned and picks up where others have left off. He has been present to the lonely, compassionate to the wounded, faithful to the call. This quiet hero stands in the shadow but he stands firmly and without fail.

     A writer for the Henri Nouwen Society has suggested there is beauty in the shadows. In a society that focuses on the bright and beautiful, our sacred work is borne on the shoulders of the quiet and hidden ones that work silently in the shadows. It's the shadow that gives form and depth, and it is in the shadows that the unexplainable and inexpressable is found. With soft eyes we can see what is hidden by shadow and find there reverance, respect, and perhaps the very heart of Love.

     I suspect that most who come to these pages are the quiet heroes, working tireless in the shadows. We don't hear your voice because you speak in sweet whispers, and you stand like the rose on my window sill just visible behind the curtain. But we feel your pulse because Love's pulse beats in the heart we share. Wherever you are, we celebrate you, in the shadow and the gentle folds of light – heroes bearing the sacred work of radical, loving care.