Things are getting better. They are certainly better than they were a year ago.
I contemplated apologizing for not writing for so long, but whatever. I'm allowed. I had very little to say this past year anyway. I finished intern year without any major (external) problems and moved on to being a senior resident. In my program, rank has some privileges; your workload drops from 80+ hours a week to more like 60, and (most importantly for me!) you don't have to get up nearly as early most of the time because you do more outpatient, or clinic, rotations. I do not miss 4am!
All of that luxurious ease (ha), however, made it possible to sink into a state of quiet apathy. It was easy to do, and apathy has a lot to recommend it for someone who's coming back from hysterical sobbing in the middle of the resident lounge. You don't enjoy much, but you also don't have to walk around bleeding emotions on everyone, which is not my favourite. I learned a lot of medicine. I did not learn much about myself or grow much in my understanding of Christ. The ice started cracking this summer, though, and I have been a bit sad to see it go. I'm not saying that's a good way to feel; I'm just being honest. It was very effective self-protection. I think the last couple of years (and in a wider way, the last six years or so, with my husband's deployment and all) taught me a lot about how to be afraid and how easy it is to get compacted into a smaller person by the worries and risks of this world. I think I needed to learn this first so that I could be prepared for the next lesson - how to love people anyway.
Jesus tells us to count the cost of following Him - "Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple. For which of you, wanting to build a tower, doesn’t first sit down and calculate the cost to see if he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, after he has laid the foundation and cannot finish it, all the onlookers will begin to make fun of him, saying, ‘This man started to build and wasn’t able to finish’... In the same way, therefore, every one of you who does not say good-bye to all his possessions cannot be My disciple." We can understand from the larger context of Luke 14 that Jesus is not only speaking of the willingness to give up material possessions. He is also referring to the willingness to abandon ourselves to serving the goodness of His will. There is a vulnerability required in showing people love. And there is inherent danger in showing love to people who you don't know; in fact, there is a guaranteed emotional price that you will have to pay, because not all of those people will choose to love you or the One who sent you. You will at times be betrayed and abandoned by the strangers you have chosen to love.
I paid that price a couple of times as I was learning to serve people at the beginning of residency and I didn't like it one bit. God knew I would react that way and He very kindly gave me time and the comfort of His Spirit to pull back somewhat and heal up. For a while it seemed as though I'd gone through something horrible that it would've been better to avoid. I'm remembering, though, that my call as a Christian - and by that I mean the regular everyday Christian job description - makes no mention of safety of any kind. It says God will go with us, that He loves us, that His ways are good and His plans for us individually and collectively are also good, but safety and comfort are not guaranteed. Despite that I say God is worth it. His kindness, the peace of His Holy Spirit, the care He takes with my life - these things remind me that the price is not too high. I am still, after almost ten years, only beginning to learn how to walk with God, but I have learned that His presence is immensely valuable to me. More valuable than safety. More valuable than any price I could pay. And I believe that even more good will come from this painful lesson.
He has stuff for me to do.
