Into Closed Places

I went to college in Colorado in pursuit of horses and vet school.  God had other things in store for me.  I had abandoned the idea of being a vet, but I had no idea what was next.  I knew I wanted to do something that was useful internationally for missions.  I wanted to do something that could get me into places otherwise closed to the gospel.  In God's perfect providence, I just so happened to end up helping a friend move while his parents were in town.  They are medical missionaries in Kenya who also take the gospel into closed countries.  I will never forget his mom's face as she said "We need physical therapists more than we need doctors!"  My fate was sealed.  

I never meant to be a physical therapist.  I had no intention of seeking to advance my career as a physical therapist.  I wanted and still want to be an obedient disciple of Christ - that's it.  So I went to PT school with every intention of pursuing this call to missions, to serve the least of these and share the love of Christ with the nations.  The vision has not played out like I planned.  My first longer term mission trip felt like a disaster.  And everything after that has been a painful cluster.  God provides though.  These twists and turns led me to being full time at a trauma hospital shortly before the world first heard the term "coronavirus."  I would be jobless right now had it not been for those seemingly cruel twists and turns.  My department is the only rehab department we are aware of in the entire state that has made it through without making cuts or furloughing people.  God sees and provides and protects His children.

Then there was the day, what I hope will be the worst day of my career.  The day they kicked all the visitors out of the hospital and no longer allowed anyone inside except patients and staff because of Covid19.  I do not feel I have words to describe the pain and fear that filled those hallways.  The family members who had been by their daughter's side after a horrific car crash, by their beloved wife's side night and day as she received a grim cancer diagnosis and all the work up and treatment that followed, by their special needs brother's side as they tried to figure out the best place for him to live after discharge.  By their dad, husband, sister, mom, brother, aunt, uncle, son, daughter, and friends as they experienced the worst day of their lives.  Now these people were left alone in dark rooms to suffer and face impossible situations and decisions completely alone.  As an employee, my heart broke and my job changed overnight.  I spent hours on the phone with families and coordinating with case managers.  I made sure all of my patients knew how to get in touch with their families and friends.  And I spent a few extra minutes where needed to just be a friend and listen to the stories and concerns, and tried to meet any need within my power, even if it wasn't "my job".  Somehow it never seemed to be enough.  I was overwhelmed and took it to the feet of Jesus who promises to take our burdens.

He reminded me of my prayer in college - to do something that would take me into closed places.  I had not thought of that in years.  The hospital in my home city was now a closed place.  Never in a million years would I have imagined that vision to be fulfilled in this country, in my own hometown.  Never.

I believe with all my heart that God has orchestrated all the events in all of time to point to Jesus and His Kingdom come and then invites us to play a part in His story to bring the nations to the foot of His throne.  He showed me that when I was a senior in high school and invites us all to be a part of this tapestry He is designing, which was a huge part of my surrendering of my life to Christ.  My life, the events of my life, are a microscopic part of His grand plan.  And He sees and care about all the details of my life and your life.  As I stood outside, I realized God had orchestrated the past 12+ years of my life to lead to this moment and answered my prayer from so many years ago.  My whole life up until this point had led me to here with great purpose.  A hush came over my soul.  But then the weight of that really hit me.  Was I enough?  Was what I was doing inside those walls enough?  

I was encouraged at that time by someone speaking Zephaniah 3:17 over me.  God delights in us.

I trudged forward, one day at a time.  In The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom describes the horrors of life in a German concentration camp, where she and her sister Betsie strove to live out Jesus' calling and love in the face of unspeakable evil both with their fellow prisoners as well as their captors.  She describes the paradox of being "more than conquerors" even while being poor, hated, and hungry.  "Life in Ravensbruck took place on two separate levels, mutually impossible.  One, the observable, external life, grew every day more horrible.  The other, the life we lived with God, grew daily better, truth upon truth, glory upon glory."  This idea that we live for an unshakable Kingdom, that we are called to lean into faith and hope into things we cannot feel, despite the world pressing in on us.  In a very small way, this is what the hospital felt like.  On the surface, there was the utter brokenness of sickness and trauma now with the backdrop of a global pandemic.  But I saw God moving inside those walls more than ever.  Yes, that is my reality - "In all these things (referring to being killed in the previous verse), we are more than conquerors through him who loved us."

One week ago, they started allowing visitors back in the hospital.  I literally wept the first time I walked past a room and heard the now unfamiliar sound of familial chatter.  I teared up the first time I entered one of my own patient's rooms and found not only them but their spouse.  Not only is there the joy of the visitors being there - honestly, most days I think it was harder for the people outside the building than the patients inside.  But there's the feeling that this is somehow the beginning of the end of this pandemic.  The beginning of things being at least a little bit more normal and not quite so life altering.  

But I found a familiar question haunting me.  Was it enough?  Did I do enough?

The short answer is No.  Absolutely not.  I am not enough in and of myself.  My best works are filthy rags compared to God.  I'm sure I failed miserably and missed many opportunities, even though I tried to be sensitive and obedient to the Holy Spirit.

But if I take my eyes off of myself and fix them on Jesus and being His vessel wherever He places me now, trusting and believing that He is piecing things together for my good and His glory, then I can more easily cast aside everything that hinders and rest and run.  Rest in who God is and my identity in Him.  But then run the race marked out for me, being obedient and accomplishing the works prepared beforehand, not so I can boast, but so the name of Jesus will be known among the hospital halls, my community, the nations.

Potential missed opportunities after over 12 years of preparation for this moment still breaks my heart, but feeling guilty about it won't fix it, won't atone for it.  Christ's finished work on the cross covers my sins, all of them from before I accepted Him as well as since.  So should I be complacent and continue in sin and despair?  As in Romans, may it never be!  If I truly understand the work of Jesus, I must fix my eyes on Jesus and continue forward.  If I fix my eyes on Him, what He's done for me each and every day, abide in Him and His Word, then fruit will overflow from that relationship.  And when that happens - wow, it feels so right!  My soul sings "this is what I was made for!" in spite of all external circumstances.  Lord Jesus, let it be, even as we draw closer to the end of this dreadful season, may it be!