Walking the Halls, Not Running Them
I recently participated in a Zoom call with fellow chaplains from MHS Association. Our moderator, Clare Krabill, posed a thought-provoking question to the group: “What advice would you give your younger self?”
As we shared, two words rose to the surface—Pace and Grace. They speak not only to the lessons of hindsight but also to the present moment of ministry. So here’s my take on the first: pace.
There is an aspect of pastoral ministry that undergirds everything else—the ministry of presence. Your presence, my presence, in partnership with God’s presence, meeting people in their most vulnerable moments. I’m not sure anything is more sacred in the life of a minister. But here’s the thing: it can’t be rushed.
I can still hear my elementary school teachers shouting, “WALK!” There was always this pent-up energy driving little boys forward at breakneck speed. We ran in the halls and took stairs two at a time. It was always about who was the fastest—never about who was the most thoughtful or observant. Speed ruled our hearts and our bodies. We couldn’t wait to grow up. Couldn’t wait to drive. Couldn’t wait to get a date. Couldn’t wait for graduation. You get the picture.
And now, here we are—called into a ministry that teaches us to wait at every turn. Scripture echoes the same rhythm: wait, wait, wait. I can’t think of a single moment in the Gospels where Jesus ran to His next appointment or hurried to perform a healing. He walked.
Remember Elijah? He ran from Mount Carmel to Jezreel… and then collapsed. It wasn’t until he stood on the mountain of God, hidden away in a cave, that he heard the still, small voice: “Elijah, what are you doing here?”
For over thirty years, I was a dairy farmer. My father, my grandfather—and of course, the cows—taught me more about pacing and timing than I ever learned in a classroom. There were the regular rhythms of the day: milking and feeding, morning and evening. They never changed—steady as the ticking of a clock.
But the real treasures didn’t come from the scheduled times. They came from walking slowly through the herd at an odd hour… or simply sitting on the fence and watching. That’s when the truest behaviors emerged—when you weren’t trying to make something happen, just being present long enough to notice.
So, here’s my encouragement for chaplains and pastors today: If the only time you see your residents or congregation is during scheduled services or structured visits, you’re missing a heap of possibilities. Keep your regular times — they’re important. But throw in some change-ups. Slow your pace. Come in early now and then to catch the midnight shift. Stay later to connect with those who come alive in the afternoons. Pass through an activity or a meal when you’re not expected. Sit in the circle. Do the craft. Play a little chair volleyball. Show up without an agenda—just presence.
I promise you, the return on that investment will be enormous.
Oh, there are times of urgency, for sure. Those moments are self-evident. But even in those, a non-anxious presence is essential.
So what would I tell my younger self? Slow down and pay attention. The journey is long, and the scenery is magnificent. Don’t miss it. Pace yourself.