In Everything

I popped my gloves off, threw them in the trash, and backed up against the wall. I let the other three nursing students who were helping with the dressing change take over my job as I stepped away. I normally try to hold it all in, to be strong. But this time as the tears filled my eyes, I just let them.  I did not even try to keep it in because I wanted to break. I wanted to feel it.

When we had wheeled Ezekiel to the minor theatre a few minutes ago for this dressing change, I expected it to be a difficult procedure. I could tell by the way he smelled of infection.  However, as we unrolled his bandages and cut away the gauze, I so badly wanted to see that his burns were getting better. They weren’t.

We did the best we could to cut away the dead tissue and rub ointment over the wounds. Deep down I knew that if these burns don’t heal, the infection will spread to his entire body and he will die.  We sang “Jesus loves you” over the table as we worked.

That wasn’t the only heartbreaking thing I saw today. I watched a woman hold her loved one’s hand. We knew he is dying, and I could tell by the way she clutched his hand that she knew, too. But there was nothing else we can do.

A man got a splint today for his fractured forearm. But because we didn’t have the right equipment, the fracture won’t heal properly. His arm will function, but it won’t really work the same way ever again.

But at the same time, I experienced a handful of joyful moments today. Bubbles and bracelets bringing smiles to the faces of children who we have not seen smile yet.  Starting a successful IV. Discharging patients to their homes because they were well. Patients thanking us over and over again. Praying with patients. Wiping tears from eyes. Calming rapid breathing with a song and a prayer.

I didn’t know how to feel at the end of the day. Half of my heart wanted to crumble while half wanted to jump for joy. As I was processing through everything with the Lord, I tried to weigh the pros and cons.  I tried to focus on only the good things and forget about the bad ones. But the Lord interrupted me.

That’s not how it works, Ashli. I am in everything. Everything means the pleasures and the pain. If you focus on only the healing and not the hardship, you are missing half of the picture. You think I am only present when there is joy, but I do not leave in the moments of heartache. I am right in the middle of that, too. Remember my suffering, and know that I am familiar with pain so much so that I cannot stand to abandon my children in the middle of it. In fact, you may see me most clearly in the suffering.  

So don’t forget to look for me in everything. Count your blessings, but count your heartbreaks, too, for you will find me there also.

I am learning to trust God with my smiles and my tears. He is teaching me to not only trust him in every situation, but to even be thankful in every situation. When I trust that He is present and at work in both the healing and the hurting, I can be thankful no matter what.

Thank you, Jesus, for today. Thank you for Ezekiel and his life. Thank you for treating his burns. Thank you for the smiles today as well as the tears. Thank you for opening my eyes to see you, and thank you for opening my mouth to praise you in all circumstances.

My prayer tonight is from a song by Christy Nockels titled “Sing Along”.

Great God,

wrap your arms

around this world tonight,

around the world tonight.

And as you hear our cry,

sing through the night,

and we will join in your song

and sing along.

Sing along.

Through our medical treatment, kind words in broken Swahili, and gentle touches on the hand and shoulder, may our patients hear us singing the song of hope – the beautiful hope that is found in Jesus.