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.