I cared for a man that had served time for murder.
He was a scronny man, with multiple tattoos, long grey matted hair that he kept in a bikers cap, and chipped teeth. perfect to hold the thermometer between.
A man that looked worn out, scared, and degected.
Charting my assessments I most likely checked the box for disheaveled appearance and ineffective coping skills.
I don’t know how many people told me this man had been released from prision after serving time, like some sort of warning to be careful.
Frankly, I didn’t care. He had a bum leg and I was his pain meds supplier for the night…he was a man that had served his time but looks like he was still a prisoner.
We were bonding well, so my charting stated.
If things turned for the worst, I knew I could out run the man;)
He kept apoligizing for needing things.
Apologizing for his condition.
By 4 am, I helped him to the bathroom. Because “bum leg” means he’s at risk for falling and it sucks when patients fall in the hospital.
I saw a Bible on the night stand and asked him what he was reading.
he said Judges. Judges in the New King James version. I don’t think I’d even understand that.
I must have hit a cord because he leaned forward on the toilet like he needed to talk
and said. “I’ve never been a religious man. I was dating a girl in the choir after I got out of prison. I went to her church and sat in the back. I was dressed in what I considered church clothes, you know slacks and collared shirt, it wasn’t nice but it was all I had. You know? I was asked to leave…..”
…..and then my heart broke.
I told him that shouldn’t have happened and about the criminal on the cross next to Jesus. That he should have been welcomed, because Jesus already welcomes him.
I told him to read in John and let him borrow my Bible so he could understand it better. That I’d be back that night if he had anymore questions.
I cared for him 2 nights in a row and then I was off a day by the time i came back he was transfered to a different floor. He wanted me to know though, that he was going to call the chaplan to get saved.
Hallaluajah!!! yeah Jesus!!
I’m continually in awe of how he pursues each one of us. How he works despite His children’s limited capacity to love.
Last month I moved into a house with 7 other woman, house parents, and their 1 1/2 year old daughter. I joined the adventures in missions program for World Race Alumni called Center for Glodal Action (CGA). In the afternoon I am taking discipleship classes about finding my calling, biblical foundations, spiritual formation, and meeting with a mentor. Then I am working at night at the hospital.
I think my heart still desires the “bigger” things. The adventure and new places. loving on orphans and street children. The freedom I feel when I’m over seas.
I am looking forward to December when my time slows down again and transition is once again an option in my mind. Transition into what? I’m still praying about.
However, I think the Lord has me in a season of once again learning to be faithful in the “small things”
of pursueing intamcy with Him.
Things Like Saying yes to helping a man to the toilet or start rubbing a friends back. Because maybe the man will get saved and maybe my friend will find a moment of rest. Maybe just the simple ability to listen and obey is the greater things I yearn for.
I’ve been home a year now. I can’t believe it.
I can’t believe how often I forget the adventures He continues to take me on.
