“Hope. Giving people hope was the center of my job. Someone was going through with a divorce, I told them they’d get through it, have an opportunity to find someone who could help them find happiness. Someone was jobless or had financial struggles, I told them resources and opportunities existed, and that we could help them find something to meet their needs. Someone who was fighting with an addiction, I told them we’d get them help and talked to them about those I’ve met who were in similar straits. But what about those who had a life threatening diagnosis like what I have right now? I had nothing back then. I was an avid atheist. But now, looking back, I see that God is the only source of hope for something you can’t help but feel so powerless in.”

Some time back, I had a rich blessing to speak to a hostage negotiator with stage 4 cancer.

Paul had a lifelong career in law enforcement, and 10+ years of his service in law enforcement was as a hostage negotiator. Paul shared with me that he was still a relatively new cop responding as backup to a situation of a man holding a gun and threatening to shoot himself. Paul witnessed the hostage negotiator—an older cop not new to his role—act less than empathic in this situation, his patience dwindling after hours of talking with the gunman. Paul told me that witnessing the older cop in the situation was a kind of challenge to him, a solemn vocation to be more empathic than the last guy. This was not a task of hubris, I believe, for Paul, but a God-given vocation to rise to a challenge and grow in a particularily challenging field.

Paul shared of multiple hostage negotiations he deescalated, most of all of them being suicidal situations, wherein a gunman was more of a threat to themself rather than anyone nearby. Paul shared his gratitude for his success rate, but also shared of the hardships he faced. He recalled events that carried him from one day into the next, overnights to seriously troubled individuals. As a parenthetical, in the various sectors of counseling, there is usually a boundary with time, an agreed upon limit as to how effective a counselor’s support/listening can be. Some crisis’ I’ve been asked to be present to have benefitted from hours of presence and empathy, though most one-on-one conversations top out in their usefulness by about an hour; after that hour, the counselor’s own fatigue can wear on the quality of empathy and presence wherein a follow up would be more appropriate. Not for Paul, though. This gentleman had spent 12+ hours with those in dark places and dire straits.

I was fascinated with Paul’s line of work, myself curious of the talents, gifts, and training needed to work in such a delicate field that required both tact and empathy. I asked Paul what helped him in those trying encounters, what tools he frequently called upon when being present to these crisis’.

“Hope. Giving people hope was the center of my job. Someone was going through with a divorce, I told them they’d get through it, have an opportunity to find someone who could help them find happiness. Someone was jobless or had financial struggles, I told them resources and opportunities existed, and that we could help them find something to meet their needs. Someone who was fighting with an addiction, I told them we’d get them help and talked to them about those I’ve met who were in similar straits. But what about those who had a life threatening diagnosis like what I have right now? I had nothing back then. I was an avid atheist. But now, looking back, I see that God is the only source of hope for something you can’t help but feel so powerless in.”

Last Thanksgiving, Paul received a diagnosis of having Stage 4 Cancer (pancreatic if memory serves). The doctors gave him a couple of years if he underwent treatment. It was a hard holiday season to get through, to see family with knowledge of the finitude of his life. Hard feelings were shared, feelings of injustice and bitterness. Paul felt some despair, a feeling of purposelessness and helplessness. He had a Catholic upbringing but his heart-breaking experiences he’d seen in his work inclined him only to turn further away from God. Although he identified as an atheist, he wondered why God would allow him this diagnosis to surprise him without warning, why life had to be cut short in his 60s. 

Among those Paul spoke to, a family friend approached him after the holidays, told him that in light of this new diagnosis that he had to find Christ, he had to reinvigorate his faith. Paul told me that he was at first resistant to these conversations, but this friend of his was a trusted confidant and he thought he at least afforded the man some consideration. The family friend shared how the only hope one can find as we confront our mortality is the one who has saved us from death, the one whom conquered death.

After many conversations with this friend, after many prayers, many readings of Scripture, Paul felt his heart soften, his curiosity build. Paul began praying himself to know the Lord, and slowly he felt a load lifted from his shoulder, found some hope and light while staring down the sadness of his illness and while reflecting on the tragic experiences he had seen.

“Thank God nobody ever died on my watch, in those I talked off the brink. We always got them help. That being said, I can only imagine how much more impactful some of my conversations could have been if only I knew then what I know now: that the only hope one can have when all things seem hopeless is to find Christ, our creator, our savior.”

Paul continued to return to those memories of speaking with those who lost hope because of a poor diagnosis/prognosis, because of insurmountable pain from a health condition. Paul gained no perspective in this diagnosis, of utter helplessness and hopelessness. While I have no doubt that he gave 200% of his heart and soul in those encounters, I imagine the work he did would only be further magnified and long-lasting knowing what he knows now.

Paul intended to continue to speak to his friends in law enforcement, to share with him the wisdom he learned over the years and the wisdom and hope he has learned since getting this diagnosis. 

When we find ourselves in a similar role as counselor—even if it’s not as intense as “hostage negotiator”–we sometimes are tempted to patch up problems, find hope in other avenues. I confess, in my work I often turn to the secular first when in this role of counselor. It should be a reminder to all of us that our only hope is in the all-poweful, that the Lord gives us some interventions to scratch the itches we find. That being said, the ultimate goal is not for the Lord to make us self-sufficient, but to lean on Him, to understand our powerlessness and recognize His power, to not be isolated from the Lord but in full communion with Him.

When we find ourselves in hopeless straits, we ought not turn to the Lord looking for one fix so that we may return to our isolated ways away from Him, but seek a new way that affords His light to shine in every day, to bless every action, word, and endeavor of our days.

May we continue to open our hearts and minds to Him, especially in times of hopelessness, be patient for His glory to shine forth. And when we see His glory, may that live in us each day going forward.