It’s a quiet day in the hospital. My footsteps echo down the cold, clean corridor. I pass the gift shop and notice red and green tinsel decorations signifying the season of celebration and light. As a chaplain, I witness people grieve, love, heal, and die. How to wrestle with the reality of the body’s fragility – of the body’s inevitable date with death – at a time when so much of the world celebrates a joyful birth? The juxtaposition between the lights of communal cheer and each individual patient’s pain weighs heavy.
