Sometimes I find myself envious. Envious of the chaplain who gets to stand by my dying patient's bed and openly pray with the family. Of the patient care tech who gently tucks my patient into their bed, neatly enveloping them in blankets and feeding them their dinner. Or the social worker who so graciously eases the transition from hospital to home. But, instead I hold the knowledge. I'm the one no family member wants to miss because I bear the information they need to know. How bad it truly is. Whether this is it. The prognosis. I love people. I truly do. My gift is not as a PA, or a diagnostician or a medical person. My gift is to love without reservation. Especially those who are helpless. My dying oncology patients, a person with disabilities, a psychiatric patient, a person in a developing country; the voiceless. And this love I have, sometimes makes me wish I didn't have the role or answers that I do. I am blessed to be able to help people from a medical standpoint, but sometimes I just want to be the one who doesn't know. The one who stands next to them and just loves them. Who cries with my patients when the situation is unbearable, who shares in their pain. Instead, I find myself having to leave the situation because after that news is delivered I'm the one they don't want to see. Oh to find that middle ground. Please keep the patients I have in the hospital right now in your prayers as they are preparing to meet Jesus.

Those Little Prayers

"Cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you affectionately and watches over you."  1 Peter 5:7

Moving forward I continue to be blessed.  When the 3 months I have left stateside feels so very long, I continue to be held in the hands that hold us all.

This month I have been stretched far more than any other point in my life.  In October, I clearly remember sitting at Daily Planet (a local diner) with my spiritual mentor, Colette, before fund raising had truly began.  I shared with her how excited I was to be on this journey but as we probed further we realized that below that happiness were a lot of fears....in fact I had a page filled with them.  And at that point, all I kept thinking was I have all that to go through before I get to the DR?


As you can probably guess, many of those fears had to do with public speaking.  And, guess what you have to do to fund raise?  A lot of speaking, in front of people.  The first hurtle was speaking at church, but at that point I had a crutch, a piece of paper.  The next step has been bible studies and small groups, in which that would not be appropriate.  This has truly stretched me farther than anything.  And yet I persevere, because what Christ is moving me to do is far more important than any silly fear.  And as I slowly check off each event that I had angst over, I can clearly see how I was not forgotten.  How Christ provided the words in each of those intimidating situations.  He does not throw us to the wolves, but stands with us.

This morning was my favorite missionary job as of yet.  I had the privilege to speak to the Sunday School classes about being a missionary.  What a joy to share with them, at such a young age, what it means to help those who are so materially poor.  I was truly overwhelmed by their disbelief at how little my patients in the DR have.  They certainly could not wrap their heads around Dominican children being without Webkins, let alone running water or flushing toilets!  I can't wait to speak with them in a year and share more about my life in the DR.  One of the many "follow-up" meetings I look forward to sharing.

And so, through the month of March, speaking engagements will continue.  As will coffee dates, consistory meetings and spaghetti dinners.  I am proof, dear friends, that with His help we can do anything He asks.  It started with a little prayer, 2 years ago.  Oh the power of those little prayers.