Faith on the Frontlines

Palmer resident Deke Moeller has seen his share of broken bones, lacerations, heart attacks, and much worse in his 40 years in the medical field. Despite serving as a pararescue specialist in the U.S. Air Force and then as an emergency department nurse in the Mat-Su Valley, nothing truly prepared him for treating neighbors and friends during a worldwide pandemic. As patients are admitted, he can see the fear in their eyes; they are afraid that they will die here.

Moeller’s entire approach to patient care has been turned on end. The first priority is now to protect himself with additional layers of personal protective equipment, including a face mask and shield. The treatment rooms are set up with a negative-pressure ventilation system to limit the spread of COVID-19. Patient care has become more exacting. And despite all the protections, Moeller himself contracted the disease.

For Moeller, who became one of Jehovah’s Witnesses in 1986, his faith and Bible meetings have helped him to endure the challenges of healthcare work during the pandemic—including seeing fellow congregants in the hospital with COVID. Moeller and his congregation stay close with regular online meetings and phone calls.

“It helps you because you know you’re not alone,” Moeller said. “You have plenty in the congregation to keep in touch with you.”

Spiritual focus has helped Moeller and other frontline medical workers in his religious community battle through the mental and emotional toll of the pandemic.

“What healthcare workers are experiencing is akin to domestic combat,” Andrew J. Smith, Ph.D., director of the University of Utah Health Occupational Trauma Program at the Huntsman Mental Health Institute, said in a press release from his institution.

According to a study conducted by Smith’s group, more than half of the doctors, nurses and emergency responders providing COVID-19 care could be at risk for one or more mental health problems—including acute traumatic stress, depression and anxiety.

For Benjamin Jack, of Anchorage, the added layers of PPE limited the interactions with patients he enjoyed so much as a nurse. And, early in the pandemic, it seemed as though his work was changing daily in response to the constant flow of new information about the virus.

During the worst days of the pandemic, “it was a depressing field,” Jack said. “You’re not seeing people really get better.”

He watched as others in the field became stressed, depressed or short tempered. “It was difficult,” he said, “definitely the most difficult time in nursing I’ve ever been in. But I think, honestly, I never felt it as hard as everyone else around me.”

Jack kept positive with a spiritual routine, including prayer, online Bible meetings, and virtual association with fellow Jehovah’s Witnesses. He explained that having a spiritual routine, one that didn’t stop when the pandemic hit, provided him with what he needed. And, he said, at times with what he didn’t even know he needed.

Olivia Slotkin, an emergency department nurse in Soldotna, could relate.

“Seeing families separated from their sick loved ones and kind of burnt-out healthcare workers and doctors, even concern for my own personal safety or that of my family, was a weekly stress,” Slotkin said.

One of the biggest challenges she experienced was stress related to the controversy surrounding the outbreak. “A lot of people, even after being diagnosed, were in denial that it was real,” Slotkin said. Meanwhile, she faced physical and mental exhaustion from extra shifts, performing physical work while wearing warm layers of PPE and maintaining the concentration required to constantly use that equipment in a safe and correct way.

Like Moeller and Jack, Slotkin received great comfort from her congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses. They routinely sent text messages, dropped off baked goods or drove by with a wave. She said, “All that was really encouraging and let us know that we weren’t alone even though we were physically distanced.”

With their encouragement, Slotkin found respite as she continued to worship with them regularly online, joined ministry groups on Zoom, and intensified her prayers.

American psychological and psychiatric associations, while not advocating or endorsing any specific religion, acknowledge a role for spirituality and religious faith in coping with distress and trauma.

Lawrence Onoda, Ph.D., a clinical psychologist in Mission Hills, California, noted a number of ways spirituality can help, including giving people “a positive hope and meaning toward life, comfort by looking for answers and strength from a higher power, and a collective shared experience of support and community.”

Moeller and his wife, Cindy, regularly read the Bible together which builds him up and helps him keep things in perspective.

“You’re gonna face difficulties, you know, we all do,” Moeller said. “And just knowing that you have a heavenly Father there that loves ya ... merciful, understands and keeps you on the right track.”

(For more information on gaining comfort through the scriptures, please see https://www.jw.org/en/bible-teachings/peace-happiness/real-hope-future-bible-promises/)