In times like these you need a Savior,
In times like these you need an anchor;
Be very sure, be very sure,
Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!
Ruth Caye Jones wrote the words to this hymn in 1943 inspired by two Bible verses. Newspaper headlines were a daily reminder of the despair felt by many in the United States and around the world during World War II, and she needed to find comfort somewhere. A few years later, she and her husband, a pastor, founded a radio ministry, and Jones was fondly known as "Mother Jones."
Today's environment is reminiscent of those 1940s war times as everyone tries to find effective ways to cope with daily distress. No one can deny that turmoil exists in America now with the frequent acts of violence against targeted groups and mass murders by individuals, radical groups, and even loved ones. The nation is plagued with senseless gun violence. Political tensions are palpable; the uncertainty of divergent views calls individuals to again seek understanding somewhere.
Finding an anchor
But where do we find the anchor referenced in the hymn? Do you ever talk about faith and religion with your patients? I do not mean asking a question by rote during the history but really talking about religion and faith. Patients will frequently initiate the conversation with me, whether it begins with their personal health and health beliefs, questions about therapy, a situation in their family, or events from which they are tangibly removed but psychologically connected. I listen and participate as I sense is appropriate and not necessarily based on how well I might know the patient.
During discussions, no one seeks to discount, offend, or persuade the other. The exchange is brief but serves to establish or affirm trust in each other, making the room a safe space. Rarely do I start the conversation, but as the provider, I try to establish the tone, direct the flow, and decide when to close the conversation. Taking a holistic approach to my patients' well-being includes acknowledging their religious beliefs and how these beliefs affect their lives. The process also means acknowledging one's own beliefs-silently or via discussion.
Finding hope
We live in a world filled with positive, empowering diversity. Yet every day we hear so many distressing things that twist this positivity into negative thoughts, words, and actions. A year ago, I wrote an editorial about my perceptions and personal experience with racism in the United States, spurred by the Charleston massacre. Following that event, I had to find comfort somewhere. There is hope in the words Nelson Mandela wrote in his autobiography Long Walk to Freedom: "No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite." Other leaders have also encouraged this way of thinking.
Finding comfort
Soon, American citizens will elect a new President. We have much to consider in making a choice-personal rights, economic stability, safety and security, health access and equity, foreign relations, and more. We are overloaded with information from media sources. There are stories that will challenge our core beliefs, and there are stories that will confirm our faith in mankind. Personal distress is often high, and individuals deal with it in different ways. Remember that everyone, including patients, at some time needs to find comfort somewhere-"Your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock!" Encourage the dialogue.
Jamesetta Newland, PhD, RN, FNP-BC, FAANP, DPNAP
EDITOR-IN-CHIEF [email protected]