Cultivating the Heart of a Chaplain
By Jacob Werkheiser, PCNOW Board of Directors

Some of our most powerful memories are born from deep conversations filled with emotion. I remember speaking with my great-grandmother—then 100 years old—about the heartache of a teenage relationship. I recall reminiscing with my sister during college about our earliest memories, hearing my parents share financial worries long after the stress had passed, and having my final conversation with my grandfather while he was in hospice. These moments, rich with emotion, have shaped my heart and its capacity to connect deeply with others.

Hospice and Palliative Care is, at its core, about cultivating the heart of a chaplain—regardless of our discipline. When I reflect on the “heart,” I think of it not only as the seat of our emotions but also as a spiritual center. It connects us to something greater—whether that be a community, a way of life, a divine presence, or a personal faith. Practically speaking, the heart circulates life throughout the body, interconnecting all its parts. Spiritually and emotionally, it does the same for our relationships.

To have the “heart of a chaplain” is to be willing to connect on emotional and spiritual levels with those around us. In our conversations, we encounter resistance, blockages, tension, and flow—not just in others, but within ourselves. Embracing this awareness allows us to be present, to listen, and to engage with authenticity and compassion.

So much of our work as clinicians involves the flow of conversation—and beneath that, the flow of emotion. When we attune ourselves to the feelings of those we care for, and they sense our genuine connection, we create a space where emotions can move freely. In that space, sadness, fear, anger, hope, joy, and more are not only welcomed but honored.

We often hear, “I can’t imagine what it’s like to do this work every day.” And we know: there are good days and hard days. For me, the hardest days are when I lose touch with my heart—when empathy feels distant and connection becomes difficult. In those moments, it’s easy to disengage.

But thankfully, we all carry within us powerful memories and emotions that call us back to our true selves. These connections—past and present—strengthen us. They build resilience. They empower us to grow in our capacity to care. I’m grateful to be part of a field that not only demands emotional strength but nurtures it over time.

Most of all, I’m grateful for each of you. In hospice and palliative care, we know what it means to truly connect. Whether it’s a final goodbye, a moment of resolution after a difficult family meeting, a last kiss after 77 years of love, or a granddaughter’s final hug—these moments are sacred. They remind us why our work matters. Thank you for the heart you bring to this field. Thank you for the ways you connect, strengthen, and empower others—and yourselves.