I am grateful to Doctor Ernest E. Bruder, longtime chaplain at St. Elizabeth Psychiatric Hospital in Washington D.C. In class he shared a remarkable story of the power of acceptance in the treatment of mental illness.
He was searching for a patient who could type the manuscript for his book, Ministering to Deeply Troubled People. He settled on his patient/secretary. At 15 she was admitted by her parents as a permanent patient. Her bizarre behaviors were a danger to herself and others. At age 30 she was still a patient with no hope of discharge. The task of typing the manuscript gave her a purpose for facing each new day.
She put herself into every sentence. She wrote her own thoughts at the bottom of each page. Bruder wasn’t happy about her taking the liberty until he read her comments. He secretly was convinced that her additions would be the most important part of the book. Below I share a paraphrased addition that I cherish. What we patients need above all else is for a healing community, an atmosphere where we can be accepted for what we are, and just as we are, and thus be freed to become more than we are. Thus we may be able to achieve something of that high dignity for which we believe we were created as sons and daughters of God.
It is appropriate for you to cheer for these words. They conveyed what God did for me. His acceptance of me just as I am has freed me to become more than I am. This is true for you also.
I saw these words come true in the mental health units where I worked for nearly a decade. A frequently admitted patient affectionately known as Granny attended every chapel service. Without fail she asked us to sing God Will Take Care of You. Her face lit up and she sang it with feeling.
When I announced that I would not conduct chapel services during my two week vacation, Granny said she would take my place. At first I hesitated, and then I thought of Bruder’s secretary and her amazing addition to the manuscript. Granny needed acceptance. I would not deprive her of this opportunity.
When I returned to work I was told by staff that the patients did not miss me. The patients loved Granny because she could speak their language. She always sang her favorite song. The patients memorized it. She was accepted for who she was inside. She had been freed to become more than she was.
Granny and I had long conversations about acceptance and gratitude. She was a lay-therapist to her fellow patients. She was discharged a few months later, never to return. She became a ray of sunshine in her family and Chicago community. The prescription bottles in her cupboard were reduced to a minimum. Her road to complete recovery bore a large sign-ACCEPTANCE.