Exodus 4:10-13
10 But Moses said to the LORD, "O my Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor even now that you have spoken to your servant; but I am slow of speech and slow of tongue."
11 Then the LORD said to him, "Who gives speech to mortals? Who makes them mute or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the LORD?
12 Now go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak."
13 But he said, "O my Lord, please send someone else."
I sat with my spiritual director struggling with this nagging question: Could God possibly be calling me? Could God possibly call me to do things? She talked to me about this particular story. I wonder how Moses must have felt when he started to hear God speak. Am I crazy? Why me? Let someone else do it. I don't like this. What will this mean?
That conversation was several years ago. Many, many things have happened with me since then. I have become much more aware of how God can use people, even me. My work as a nurse has become very rewarding. I've been blessed to have many conversations with the pastoral staff and other nurses about our call to serve others. I've had ministries within my church that felt very rewarding at times. At times, I am engulfed in the blessings of motherhood and family.
Yet, somehow, I cannot shake this feeling of "Oh my Lord, please send someone else.". It is with fear that I approach many of my decisions right now. I have a growing sense of peace, knowing that I am probably making the right decisions. I am just left wondering where it will all end up. I guess that is the hard part. I don't get to know. I just get to keep going forward, hoping, praying, trusting.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Talking about it
I've decided there are really 2 kinds of people in this world. There are those who are talking about doing something. Then there are those who are doing something. I've spent much of my life talking about all of the things that I want to do. I did this all through college, into my young adulthood. I was always saying 'One day...., I want.....'. Somewhere around 30, I stopped doing that as a habit. I think that it might have all started with getting a tattoo.
For my 30th birthday, I decided to get a tattoo. I had wanted one for years. I had 2 children. After my oldest had been born, I had started getting into the habit of trying new things. I took pottery lessons, guitar lessons. With my second child, we opted for a home birth. We had continued our parenting course going against the cultural norm. Why not get a tattoo?
When I went to the tattoo parlor, I had no idea what I wanted. I was just trying not to chicken out. Walking around, I saw a picture of a sun. BOOM! There it was. I didn't need to fret anymore. I laid down on my stomach and got a tattoo on my hip. There! I had followed through with a 'one day...'.
A few months later, I started nursing school. I plodded through the 2 years with a bunch of help from family and friends. I would set my alarm for 3:30 in the morning to get up and do my work for the next day. I worked my rear end off, *doing* what I wanted to do. I managed to accomplish something that would send me into a very rewarding career.
A few years later, my family and I managed to buy a piece of property to try our hand at country living. We had spent years 'talking' about moving to the country and building a house. All of a sudden we were 'doing' it. I am now sitting in our newly built house, looking out over what will be our new garden and the goats in their pen. Wow! Who would have ever thought that we would be here?
A couple of years ago, several people at our church decided that we should build a labyrinth. We went to great efforts to get a plan, present it to the vestry, get a committee, pick a spot, get it approved, clear a spot, talk about this, talk about that. Two years later, all we accomplished was cutting down tree and lots of talking. This week, I took some left over bricks and started building a labyrinth in my yard. I'm a doer. I don't like sitting and talking so much any more. Let's get down to business, roll up our sleeves and get dirty.
We've got to stop fearing action. People want to sit and 'talk' because it is safe. There is nothing permanent in that. When you take action, it is real. You can't go back. You've started. So many people get paralyzed in their fears, and they cannot find a way to move forward. It takes a trusting, discerning, courageous heart to take chances in this life. I'm just to a place where I would much, much rather say "I did" instead of "I wanted to."
For my 30th birthday, I decided to get a tattoo. I had wanted one for years. I had 2 children. After my oldest had been born, I had started getting into the habit of trying new things. I took pottery lessons, guitar lessons. With my second child, we opted for a home birth. We had continued our parenting course going against the cultural norm. Why not get a tattoo?
When I went to the tattoo parlor, I had no idea what I wanted. I was just trying not to chicken out. Walking around, I saw a picture of a sun. BOOM! There it was. I didn't need to fret anymore. I laid down on my stomach and got a tattoo on my hip. There! I had followed through with a 'one day...'.
A few months later, I started nursing school. I plodded through the 2 years with a bunch of help from family and friends. I would set my alarm for 3:30 in the morning to get up and do my work for the next day. I worked my rear end off, *doing* what I wanted to do. I managed to accomplish something that would send me into a very rewarding career.
A few years later, my family and I managed to buy a piece of property to try our hand at country living. We had spent years 'talking' about moving to the country and building a house. All of a sudden we were 'doing' it. I am now sitting in our newly built house, looking out over what will be our new garden and the goats in their pen. Wow! Who would have ever thought that we would be here?
A couple of years ago, several people at our church decided that we should build a labyrinth. We went to great efforts to get a plan, present it to the vestry, get a committee, pick a spot, get it approved, clear a spot, talk about this, talk about that. Two years later, all we accomplished was cutting down tree and lots of talking. This week, I took some left over bricks and started building a labyrinth in my yard. I'm a doer. I don't like sitting and talking so much any more. Let's get down to business, roll up our sleeves and get dirty.
We've got to stop fearing action. People want to sit and 'talk' because it is safe. There is nothing permanent in that. When you take action, it is real. You can't go back. You've started. So many people get paralyzed in their fears, and they cannot find a way to move forward. It takes a trusting, discerning, courageous heart to take chances in this life. I'm just to a place where I would much, much rather say "I did" instead of "I wanted to."
Monday, March 1, 2010
Compensation
I work in the Emergency Department as a Registered Nurse. I get paid a decent hourly wage to care for patients, help manage the flow of patients and carry out the mission of our hospital. We are Catholic based, so we are a faithful community. That expresses itself in many different ways. In today's time, you have to run hospitals like a business and do the best you can in serving the greater good.
At the Christmas party this year, I decided to go talk to our VP who is a life-professed Nun. Fortified with a few glasses of wine, I walked up and started talking. I needed to tell this woman that she cannot pay me for what I do in my job. A part of me was ready to claim my role as a nurse as being my vocation. I recognized the part of me that does not want, nor need compensation for many of the tasks I perform. It was an empowering moment for me just to say the words out loud. Her response was the icing on the cake. She grabbed my hands and said "Yes!". She went on to say that it is her belief that we are 'called' to service at this institution. I told her that I agree and I remember her saying that during my orientation. I thanked her for that, and giving me permission to claim my own vocation.
I am beginning to recognize the maturity needed to go about my life without compensation. My daughter turns 13 this week. After her birth, I was inundated with all of the cultural expectations of parenthood. In the midst of all of that, I managed to find my own Mothering voice. I managed to seek the greater purpose of parenting this gift from God. Trust me, there was no compensation for me as I breastfed, slept with and nurtured this baby. There is no compensation for emptying yourself in a humble attempt to be present with your child. Yet, somehow, I am starting to see a bit of the fruit from the seeds planted so long ago.
It is the same thing with me as a nurse. A couple of weeks ago, I had a teenage patient who was distraught after I told her that she was seven months pregnant. I gave a kind, but stern, lecture about how her decisions are affecting the rest of her life. As she sat like a small child, crying, I placed my hand on her shoulder. I told her that I would take a piece of her home with me. I told her that I would pray for her all weekend and remember her as she struggles through this time in her life. That was hard for me to do. It cost me to do this. There is no compensation for taking this extra time and care with her. Nor should there be. There is no way that I can compensate God for all that has been given to me. It is not possible. I have been blessed far more that any human can possibly deserve. Sometimes, these Blessings overflow onto someone else, and I get the privilege of watching.
At the Christmas party this year, I decided to go talk to our VP who is a life-professed Nun. Fortified with a few glasses of wine, I walked up and started talking. I needed to tell this woman that she cannot pay me for what I do in my job. A part of me was ready to claim my role as a nurse as being my vocation. I recognized the part of me that does not want, nor need compensation for many of the tasks I perform. It was an empowering moment for me just to say the words out loud. Her response was the icing on the cake. She grabbed my hands and said "Yes!". She went on to say that it is her belief that we are 'called' to service at this institution. I told her that I agree and I remember her saying that during my orientation. I thanked her for that, and giving me permission to claim my own vocation.
I am beginning to recognize the maturity needed to go about my life without compensation. My daughter turns 13 this week. After her birth, I was inundated with all of the cultural expectations of parenthood. In the midst of all of that, I managed to find my own Mothering voice. I managed to seek the greater purpose of parenting this gift from God. Trust me, there was no compensation for me as I breastfed, slept with and nurtured this baby. There is no compensation for emptying yourself in a humble attempt to be present with your child. Yet, somehow, I am starting to see a bit of the fruit from the seeds planted so long ago.
It is the same thing with me as a nurse. A couple of weeks ago, I had a teenage patient who was distraught after I told her that she was seven months pregnant. I gave a kind, but stern, lecture about how her decisions are affecting the rest of her life. As she sat like a small child, crying, I placed my hand on her shoulder. I told her that I would take a piece of her home with me. I told her that I would pray for her all weekend and remember her as she struggles through this time in her life. That was hard for me to do. It cost me to do this. There is no compensation for taking this extra time and care with her. Nor should there be. There is no way that I can compensate God for all that has been given to me. It is not possible. I have been blessed far more that any human can possibly deserve. Sometimes, these Blessings overflow onto someone else, and I get the privilege of watching.
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