Presence Before Performance

My first week of Chaplain Residency at the VA Loma Linda hasn’t been filled with patient visits or deep bedside conversations. It’s been orientation—policies, procedures, introductions, and an endless stream of acronyms that my brain is still trying to file away somewhere.

But beneath all the structure, there’s something stirring in me. Maybe it’s the quiet before the real work begins. Maybe it’s the discomfort of slowing down. Either way, I’m noticing how much of my identity is still tied to doing rather than being.

As a hospice chaplain, I learned to sit in sacred silence. But here, stepping into a new system, surrounded by new faces, I can feel that old instinct rise up—the need to perform, to prove I belong, to be the “good resident.” It’s subtle but powerful. I find myself rehearsing introductions in my head, overthinking reflections, wanting to sound insightful instead of simply honest.

During group discussion, we were invited to name our spiritual theme for this unit. The one that immediately surfaced for me was presence over performance. I felt it in my chest. It’s not just a phrase—it’s a mirror.

There’s a part of me that still believes my worth is tied to productivity, that my value is earned by being articulate, competent, or impressive. But spiritual care—real care—doesn’t come from that place. It comes from presence. From slowing down enough to hear what’s underneath the noise. From allowing myself to be human before I try to be helpful.

So, while this week didn’t include any profound patient encounters, it did include an encounter with myself. I realized how much I still long for approval—and how sacred it might be to lay that down.

As I prepare for the weeks ahead, my quiet prayer is this:
May I learn to trust that being is enough.
May I find peace in presence, not performance.
And may I remember that formation takes time—one quiet, unpolished moment at a time.