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.