The Way I Am

Dear God-

Born a complainer about something or another, not much that comes out of my mouth surprises you anymore I bet. I'm going to say it's because you placed such a strong sense of justice in my heart and that's the reason that I have so much to ask of you. That's the reason I feel so strongly about things, one way or another. I think if you'd ask anyone who has met me once: "Do you think she cares one way or another?: The answer'd be unequivicobly: "YES." By God, she does have an opinion.

It's not that I'm smothering everyone with my opinions, nor am I shouting them from rooftops. No, I just will answer you if you ask me what I think. I'll consider all sides to a story. I'll come up with an answer. I feel the need to do something and I do it. If I feel the need to use a certain kind of laundry detergent and drink delectable coffee each day no matter what, it better happen. Brat? Maybe. But perhaps I'm just excited about life. In fact, most of the time I'm super overly-excited about life and all the things in it and about it. As aforementioned, I have an appreciation for delectable coffee and fabulous smelling detergent. More importantly, along the lines of things I care very much about, if someone has been wronged, even in a small way, it should be corrected. I'll go to great lengths for them to know that I am trying at least to fix it and that I believe that what happened to them was not right. For whatever reason, God, I think you placed a strong sense of what's right in me, not just in the little things that are the comforts of this world, but in the big things too, that I can't always touch or change, but I know they're there because of you and likewise, because of you, I care... a lot.

Which is why this past weekend, as I rounded the corner to the ICU at my weekend job, feeling strongly a sense of injustice for my situation: working the weekend, being away from my family, feeling horribly depressed, overweight, and cold..why was this winter so COLD? My Seasonal Affective Disorder or S.A.D. was kicking into full swing (I'm not even joking). God, you know I prayed the whole way to work that you'd help me get through the day. I prayed for sunshine and for warmth and for Spring. I prayed and prayed the whole way and with each step I took that morning because I felt empty. But then like I said, towards the end of my day, I rounded the corner to the ICU, holding my Starbucks, with my stethoscope around my neck, and they came barreling out the ICU towards me at the same time. Their wails were audible for miles, I thought. My eyes were wide with shock, although my years of training and experience forced me to deaden my eyes and blanken my expression and I did just that, but on the inside, I felt horrified at their display of grief. They were an Asian family. Two grown children on each side of a mother who could barely stand, let alone walk, in her grief. She cried out and her knees buckled as they hurried, and tried to help her get to the waiting room where they could be alone. They carried her as she screamed, her body giving way. Their eyes met mine and I did not look away.

Because in all of my not that many years, I have never had to feel injustice like that. Not of my own. Not in my life. I have shed tears for others. I have come alongside them in their sorrows. But for me, I have never felt injustice like that. I have never been the one in the middle, unable to stand, carried by others in my grief. I don't need to know what they've lost. Does it matter? So it is not right for me to look away quickly, to pretend it isn't so. It is so.

God, I don't claim ignorance. I know that I'll never escape grief's icy grasp. I know that my day will come. But for now, built up with the strong sense of justice you've instilled in my heart, I am thankful for all that I have, all that I will have, all that you do for me, all that you've protected me from so far, and for all the complaints you endure from my lips. I deserve none of this. And I pray that you offer grace to them too. I just want you to know that I get it, or at least I think I'm getting it. I think I know why I'm here. I think I know why you made me this way.

"From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." Luke 12:48