The Least of These

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ Matthew 25:40

Mother Teresa cautioned, "One of the greatest diseases is to be nobody to anybody." In this day and age, it can be hard to imagine how someone literally could have no one who cares about them. We live in a world where people have hundreds, even thousands, of people on their "friends" lists. Not to say accepting a Facebook friend request equals lifelong buddy, but the majority of us have a large circle of people who are a part of our lives. With technology and transportation advanced, very rarely do we ever find ourselves alone. Even if we physically are the sole occupant of a room, we connect via text messages, email, Skype, and are assured we will reunite with our family and friends within a short amount of time. Many of us have not just one, but many people we could call upon in a time of need. The friends who would give you a ride should your car break down. The friends who will answer the phone at 4 in the morning. The family members who would take you in should you find yourself out of housing and on the streets.

Where am I going with this you may ask?

This week, I saw some of the hardest things I have seen since being in nursing school. I am currently in the midst of my psych rotation and spent some time at a hospital that admits involuntary patients. I would have to say it was more heartbreaking than any wound, injury, or infection I have yet to witness. Even with the sickest of patients, I have never felt like their needs could not ultimately be met, even if it meant a peaceful death. Most of the time, when people are in the hospital, visitors, flowers, cards, balloons, and teddy bears occupy their otherwise sterile environment. In the psych hospital, I saw 1 visitor. Now despite your judgments as to whether or not these people deserve or need to be there, they are still human beings. Watching them sit in a bare room staring blankly at the community TV, gazing longingly out the window, surrendering their belongings, their identity, their medical care, and their humanity to a system and really a society who tells them they are not worth it...it brings me to tears even now. And the thing is...this is so much better than it was even a few years back!

I had so many questions, even more frustrations, but ultimately just had to surrender all of their lives to God. On my drive to the hospital on Wednesday, I listened to the hymn "I Surrender All." In the same way I have had to surrender the lives of all of the lovely people I met back in Kenya to the Lord, I had to give up these individuals too. I can't help them in the way that my heart desires too. Truth is, I do not think I am cut out for that kind of work. Even the staff that truly care are caught up in the red tape of the medical and legal world. Yet I will never look at a person with schizophrenia or bipolar or whatever other label we have the same again. Some of them literally have no one in this world. No one they can call up and cry to. No one to give them a hug. No one to go home to at night. No one who cares whether they have a warm place to sleep or not, There are people like that all over the world. The greatest suffering is not physical pain or a disease process- it is the scars of rejection, the wounds of abandonment, and the toxicity of feeling unloved.

In all the chapters I have read, assignments I have completed, clinical hours I have attended...no one ever tells you how to cope with helplessness. We are taught there are always nursing skills and objectives that can be utilized and that all patients have one or more nursing diagnoses. Still, I cry out to God and say, "I cannot do this. It hurts way too much." And God says, "Oh good, you are beginning to experience my heart for humanity." It's not about being a nurse. It's not about an career or education or human position that has been created. It is about accepting God's love for us and learning how to love others. Especially others who cannot yet love you in return. The sacrificial kind. The kind where you don't get your money back, where there is no rebate offer, and all things considered, it is not a good deal. But it's eternal. It's real and it breaks you. It shows true colors and it magnifies intentions. I don't naturally possess that kind of love. But God does. And where I am weak, God is strong.

Safety Net

In 1859, 25 cents could buy you a view of Jean Francois Gravelet crossing the Niagara Falls on...a tightrope. Not only did he succeed, he went on to cross the falls many times, adding in challenges such as walking on stilts, pushing a wheelbarrow, cooking an omelet, and carrying his manager on his shoulder! Talk about faith. The whole idea seems absurd to me, yet there's something about this guy I find so intriguing. What compels someone to risk everything? I imagine for him the thought of doing something that no one had ever done, perhaps something no one felt was even possible. You know how in school they always ask who you would invite to a dinner party if you could invite anyone...past or present? Well I am adding this guy to the list...

So why the whole tightrope, faith thing? I was reading Jesus Calling and was struck by these words. "I want you to be all mine. I am weaning you from other dependencies. Your security rests in me alone- not in other people, not in circumstances. Depending on me may feel like walking on a tightrope, but there is a safety net underneath: the everlasting arms. So don't be afraid of falling. Instead, look ahead to me. I am always before you, beckoning you on- one step at a time."

I've spent my whole life being afraid. Afraid of not being good enough, not being loved, afraid of losing friendships, afraid of not performing to the level at which I felt was expected. Living in fear is a life of bondage. It's far more than dependence on a safety net. It's more like never even stepping out on the rope. I am the girl who spends family ski day curled up in the lodge. When possible, I avoid driving. I worry that I may not wake up so I set 3 alarms. Yet, the thing about faith and giving yourself up to God...you don't really get to say "God here is all of me, except I still will decide whether I am going to do this or not." God is calling me to do some stuff that requires I completely surrender myself to him. It doesn't really make rational sense, it isn't the most plausible of things to do, it comes with a whole lot of unknowns, in my life- it really is the ultimate tightrope. Still, God asks for all of me. So I pray I will have the courage and the faith to completely surrender to his will. If I am going to risk my life, then I most definitely want to risk my life for the One who created me, the One who sustains life.

Pressed, but not Crushed

I received this photograph in my inbox yesterday. It felt as though this vehicle had similarly crashed into my heart. Thankfully, no one was injured, just some structural damage to the front wall. Of course, my instinct is to see the glass as half empty, contemplating the worst case scenarios, wondering to myself why this had to happen, grieving over the thought that money will have to be spent on construction before it can be spent on medical supplies. Yet God patiently reminds me that He is in control and that I must trust in Him. If I don't trust him for something like a car running into a wall, how will I be able to trust him when even bigger things come along. I am reminded of the verses in 2 Corinthians that say, "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed, perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted byt not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed." I believe those words hold true not only for the clinic, but for me as well. The road that I am on has been anything but a walk in the park, yet God is still God, faithful and unchanging.

Leaving a trail

"Do not be discouraged by the fact that many of your prayers are yet unanswered. Time is a trainer, teaching you to wait upon Me, to trust Me in the dark. The more extreme your circumstances, the more likely you are to see My Power and Glory at work in the situation." -Jesus Calling

I struggle with not knowing what is coming next. The majority of my life thus far has been fairly predictable. As an infant, you sit up, then you crawl, then you stand up, then you walk. After preschool comes kindergarten, followed by first grade and so on. After high school, it's expected that you attend a college of some sort. And I guess now as my graduation from college nears, I am suppose to start thinking about getting my first job.

The only problem is...I don't want to follow this paved path. I love the quote "Do not go where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." Only problem is- that is really a hard thing to do. To break the norm, to go where no one has ventured, to do something that everyone tells you is crazy or not the sensible option. But I think sometimes that is exactly the thing that God calls us to. The more extreme your circumstances, the more likely you are to see my power and glory at work in the situation. In the New Testament, Jesus literally asks his disciples to drop everything to follow him. And they did! They left their jobs, their families, their homelands, their comfort, and they followed Jesus. And as much as I long to go back to Kenya, ultimately I pray that I will desire to follow Jesus, whether that be to Kenya or not. I do not want to live the "normal" life. I want to experience all of what God has to offer. And I know it to be true that the harder circumstances are, the more I am forced to rely solely on God, and not on myself and not on what this world offers.

I received this picture of these precious twins from the clinic. Their names are Stephen and Blessing. Stephen was breech. Peter wrote to me saying, "In ideal situations this complex delivery would have taken place in a well-equipped and established hospital. But by God's grace we conducted the deliveries safely and the twins are doing fine." From my perspective, these twins are a miracle. In the states, this likely would have been considered high-risk, been a mandatory C-section, and the twins probably would have been given numerous interventions. Yet, they were delivered in a very small room with minimal equipment and maximum faith. And God showed up. It brings me to tears even to think about this- but that is the kind of life I want to live. I want to come to a place where I trust God for everything, and live a life that witnesses his power and glory.

Time is a trainer. Yes it is. The months since I have been in Kenya have without a doubt have been the hardest time of my life. It's hard to describe exactly what about it has been so hard, but I just feel like a part of me is missing and I am still struggling to function without that part. I never expected it to be so emotional or so difficult to resume my life here. In fact, I remember as I was leaving being worried that I would transition back to American life too quickly and just kind of forget about the impact Kenya had on me. But this time really is teaching me a lot. It's stripping me of everything, putting me in a place of complete vulnerability with no one to cry to but Jesus. I really do not know what this new year holds for me. Do I have hopes and dreams? Of course. But Jesus reminds us to not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough troubles of its own.

So today, I am thankful for the life of Stephen & Blessing. I look at their faces, their innocence, their beauty. I wonder what their lives will hold for them, what kind of people they will grow to be. I cry for them, and I pray for them. And I hope that one day I will be able to hold them, and to look into their eyes and tell them how precious their life is.