cheekysharon.
Working with sick people is hard. Death is no stranger, and thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours seem to go spent trying to merely prolong life or postpone death for just a while more. It’s hard walking into a patient room and seeing a patient completely stripped of all clothing with just a towel covering what’s necessary to preserve their dignity. It’s heart-breaking to be in a room with a patient who has 10 IV bags hanging from their head, a mechanical ventilator forcing air into their lungs through a plastic tube stuffed down their oral cavity. It’s hard introducing myself to a patient who is sedated and completely unconscious; eyes mounted with eye-protectant gel, chest wired with markers that monitor heart activity and a tube slipped up through the nostril supplying nutrients for the body.
It’s hard not to be broken for somebody who looks so helpless. It’s hard not to have compassion for someone who is so dependent on outside forces to sustain the little life they have inside of them. I feel heart-broken every time.
The greater challenge is to see past the helpless, powerless and utterly dependent patient on the bed and to see the lost soul that is inside of them. I feel so broken for the physical ailments and health conditions that have taken their body captive, but I have to fight to really see past these external things and to see them for what they truly are- a lost soul, doomed to one day be judged by a Holy, Righteous and Just God.
We have a mortal body but an immortal soul. Our bodies will one day die and decay but the soul inside this fleshly body will remain for all of eternity. A fatal accident may occur, limbs amputated, cells replicate into malignant cancer cells, blood clots may form, heart muscles may suffer necrotic damage— but in the end of it all, there is no real hope to preserving the ‘life’ of this body. One day we will die. and one day the body we have and own will become like the dust and be no more. No real hope in trying to preserve it.
But for the soul that will remain eternally, there is hope. There is a way to preserve it from suffering, preserve it from eternal torture, preserve it from eternal dying. The only antidote so save the soul is through the gospel. Through the new life we receive in knowing Christ. I know this truth and I know this is the only way, and yet why am I so reluctant to share it with everyone and anyone who will hear me?
I’m thankful for the 12-hour shifts I have every week to train my eyes and my heart to see past what my physical eyes see for who these patients really are. They are not only Mrs. heart failure or Mr. Hip replacement— but these are people who may die and never hear the hope and glory of the gospel of Christ if I don’t share it with them.
Every night before my shift, I pray in my car. Last night I Prayed for the spiritual eyes to see my patients as souls. I prayed for boldness to proclaim the glories of my Savior even if its costly to do so. I prayed for courage. I prayed that my heart would be engaged in worship inwardly despite what I am doing outwardly.
I was granted the opportunity to share with TWO of my patients yesterday! Praise the Lord!
Not a bad start..
—
Give thanks:
(for the 3 hours of rest I got after my 12 hours shift…),
(for the kick of caffeine to get me through the day),
(for my handy itouch that let me gchat with eugene when my phone ran out of battery at work),
(for the weekly encouragements I get from these three beautiful sisters)
O Lord, make me know my end
and what is the measure of my days;
let me know how fleeting I am!
Behold yo have made my days a few handbreadths,
and my lifetime is as nothing before you.
Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath!
Surely a man goes about as a shadow!
Surely for nothing they are in turmoil;
man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather!
And now, O Lord, for what do I wait?
My hope is in you.
Psalm 39:4-7
