Life in My Hands

I sit there waiting. Sometimes I can sit there for hours on end and it not ring. Sometimes I can sit there and have five calls in a matter of three hours. Either way, it's a waiting game. Although in this situation, I don't know what I'm waiting for. Well...I do know what I'm waiting for. I'm waiting for the phone to ring. But, when it does ring, I don't know who will be on the other end of the line. Will it be a 20 something guy who feels like he has no purpose in life and is contemplating suicide? Will it be a 50 something lady who has just lost her husband and needs someone to talk to? Will it be a 16 year old girl who called to tell me that her dad just raped her? Honestly, I never know what to expect. I have to be prepared for everything.

Working a crisis hotline can be challenging, but sometimes I just can't explain how rewarding. Many times last semester I would ask myself, "Zach, why are you doing this?" I never could figure out the answer...as many questions I have are left unanswered. But I have figured out something about myself during my time at Emory & Henry. I have an earnest desire to help other people. I have to do it somehow...so why not help other people by helping them solve their various crises?

As I was driving back from my 8:30-12 crisis hotline shift a few minutes ago, I thought about the depth of our job. We look at doctors and others in the medical field and we talk about how they hold other peoples lives in their hands.

It didn't occur to me until tonight that when someone calls and tells me they're contemplating suicide and they have a gun sitting in front of them, I am holding their life in my hands.

It didn't occur to me until tonight that I may finally be comfortable with that. I may actually be able to help them.

Until next time, Zach will leave it at that.