'Tis the season for spending...which has got me doing some thinking...
“We are given different gifts and talents by our Master. The thing that matters most is how we use what we have been given, not how much we make or do compared to someone else. What matters is that we spend ourselves.” - Frances Chan
“We are given different gifts and talents by our Master. The thing that matters most is how we use what we have been given, not how much we make or do compared to someone else. What matters is that we spend ourselves.” - Frances Chan
This quote was so very striking to me as I read it one morning this week at the gym. Having awoken well before my alarm that morning, I greeted my racing thoughts with hot coffee and a dose of Frances Chan as I am reading the book, Crazy Love.
This season is a time when I always have the best intentions. I plan not to plan. I think I fail every single year. This year has been no exception. In my furry to get everything done so I can model and teach my children to savor the Savior...I run myself ragged and find myself empty.
It doesn't help that what I do for a living also empties me.
I recently shared about losing a patient this year. That was tremendously difficult. I met with MaryJane's mom this month and could not help but to allow my tears to flow. As I listened to her talk about preparing for the Holidays, my heart just broke for her. It was so hard to be present with her and the tears were a part of that. I sat with her and shared the gift of time and raw vulnerability. I felt empty at the end and had to head back home and dive in. I was spent.
I saw another one of my patients this week whom I have grown to love (a hazard of my profession). Her mother looked at me with longing and fear, asking, "Can you tell me what my daughter's life expectancy is?" That question totally derailed the conversation we had been having about reflux and constipation...I had a line of patients behind her, some understanding, some not so much...but I went there, I talked to her and listened. I called my dear dear friend on the palliative care team to set up a meeting so this mother could begin to prepare for the journey of losing a child before what we believe is time. Moving on from that appointment to the next...I was spent.
Later in that same day, a 22 year old patient of mine came to see me one last time before I had to transition him to an adult provider. He has cerebral palsy, mental retardation and does not speak. He has always just smiled so genuinely each time I have seen him. I have always told him that I just loved his smile. Though he couldn't talk back, I knew that he heard me and knew that I cared about him. It wasn't until this encounter that I realized how very much he was aware, he was present. I was telling his mother about the new provider and how sad I was to have to give him up. I looked at him and it appeared that he was biting his lip. No way, I thought, he is not going to be upset. The next thing I knew, he began to sob. I was literally speechless. I was transported to a different place, a place where those who are unseen in this world are seen. A place where Jesus shows up, in the flesh. I had to leave the room to allow him to recover. It was intensely emotional for me. And, I had to go see my next patient who had already complained to my nurse about my running behind (I added her on by the way). Needless to mention, I was more than spent.
The other "spendings" I participate in- mothering three little ones, being a present wife and homemaker and all that goes under those three titles...Oh, I could list them out and that might admittedly make me feel good, vindicated...worthwhile.
But, in really reflecting on what it means to spend myself instead of spending money, time or energy...I pause and am struck by the amazing gift I can give to my Heavenly Father, if I spend myself, spend the gifts he has given me...not keeping them to myself and hoarding them... It is so so much easier to spend money or even time or energy. But, to spend myself. Wow. That really does require a change of perspective, a giving up of myself, a surrender of control. It also requires total dependence, obedience and love. A love that I see myself desiring from and for my children. How much more does my heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! (Luke 11:13) The Holy Spirit is who can empower me to spend myself. But, how in tune am I?
I saw another one of my patients this week whom I have grown to love (a hazard of my profession). Her mother looked at me with longing and fear, asking, "Can you tell me what my daughter's life expectancy is?" That question totally derailed the conversation we had been having about reflux and constipation...I had a line of patients behind her, some understanding, some not so much...but I went there, I talked to her and listened. I called my dear dear friend on the palliative care team to set up a meeting so this mother could begin to prepare for the journey of losing a child before what we believe is time. Moving on from that appointment to the next...I was spent.
Later in that same day, a 22 year old patient of mine came to see me one last time before I had to transition him to an adult provider. He has cerebral palsy, mental retardation and does not speak. He has always just smiled so genuinely each time I have seen him. I have always told him that I just loved his smile. Though he couldn't talk back, I knew that he heard me and knew that I cared about him. It wasn't until this encounter that I realized how very much he was aware, he was present. I was telling his mother about the new provider and how sad I was to have to give him up. I looked at him and it appeared that he was biting his lip. No way, I thought, he is not going to be upset. The next thing I knew, he began to sob. I was literally speechless. I was transported to a different place, a place where those who are unseen in this world are seen. A place where Jesus shows up, in the flesh. I had to leave the room to allow him to recover. It was intensely emotional for me. And, I had to go see my next patient who had already complained to my nurse about my running behind (I added her on by the way). Needless to mention, I was more than spent.
The other "spendings" I participate in- mothering three little ones, being a present wife and homemaker and all that goes under those three titles...Oh, I could list them out and that might admittedly make me feel good, vindicated...worthwhile.
But, in really reflecting on what it means to spend myself instead of spending money, time or energy...I pause and am struck by the amazing gift I can give to my Heavenly Father, if I spend myself, spend the gifts he has given me...not keeping them to myself and hoarding them... It is so so much easier to spend money or even time or energy. But, to spend myself. Wow. That really does require a change of perspective, a giving up of myself, a surrender of control. It also requires total dependence, obedience and love. A love that I see myself desiring from and for my children. How much more does my heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! (Luke 11:13) The Holy Spirit is who can empower me to spend myself. But, how in tune am I?
“Giving that is not motivated by love is worth nothing. Paul says from this kind of giving we “gain nothing”’ however, when we give out of love, we gain much. Giving results not only in heavenly compensation, but also gives us great joy in our lives here and now. As we love more genuinely and deeply, giving becomes the obvious and natural response. Taking and keeping for ourselves becomes unattractive and imprudent.”
“People aren’t bodies, they are hearts.”
These two quotes, also from Frances Chan also got me thinking. The three patients I listed prior were all "nonverbal". I began thinking of all that they have taught me without saying one word, I also considered all the words I depend on. I depend on words for many things that can be understood without speaking at all. I like hearing words...but who doesn't?
I think in reflecting on all that I have learned this year from my many patients who cannot speak, my children who do not speak well or even much at all yet and always...from my Savior who cannot be heard audibly- I have discovered how wonderful few or no words can be. I have also been struck by how much I want words but really do not need them.
Sometimes I just want someone to say "Thank you!!!"- how many times I have thought this. But, the thanks I DO get,are often gifts of the heart, not of words. I get emotion evoked instantaneously from my sweet 22 year old patient when he has to say good bye to me. I get sweet hugs from my Connor and big brown eyes of love. I get glimpses into the work God is doing on Landon's heart as I watch him gently guide his little sister along, caring for her the way I have not seem him yet care for another. I get to hold a sleeping baby girl in my arms, a baby girl who is such a sweet answer to prayer. I get to sit in God's presence, be it two minutes at a time, and feel Him, the God of the universe, stirring in my heart and mind. I get to know that no matter how few audible words are spoken to me, I am a child of God, one who he made, just the way I am. He loves me more than any other and I have never audibly heard him, but I have certainly felt his love in ways not comparable to love expressed in words.
So, how can I give Him a gift of my heart, I can continue to spend myself. I can get up before dawn and go to bed late, after that last preparation is complete for my family the next day. I can serve my patients despite what the world may or may not view them as. I can find time to seek him, so that I can give these gifts- because without him and His perspective, I begin to rely on the success barometer of the world. I look to spend money and hear words of affirmation so that I know I am worthwhile. That is certainly not why he came. That is certainly not how he showed up. He showed up, in a stable with dirty old cows and sheep as a baby, who could not speak. He spent his whole life. For me and you.
Welcome baby Jesus, my treasure, my greatest gift of the heart ever. He can be yours too.
“People aren’t bodies, they are hearts.”
These two quotes, also from Frances Chan also got me thinking. The three patients I listed prior were all "nonverbal". I began thinking of all that they have taught me without saying one word, I also considered all the words I depend on. I depend on words for many things that can be understood without speaking at all. I like hearing words...but who doesn't?
I think in reflecting on all that I have learned this year from my many patients who cannot speak, my children who do not speak well or even much at all yet and always...from my Savior who cannot be heard audibly- I have discovered how wonderful few or no words can be. I have also been struck by how much I want words but really do not need them.
Sometimes I just want someone to say "Thank you!!!"- how many times I have thought this. But, the thanks I DO get,are often gifts of the heart, not of words. I get emotion evoked instantaneously from my sweet 22 year old patient when he has to say good bye to me. I get sweet hugs from my Connor and big brown eyes of love. I get glimpses into the work God is doing on Landon's heart as I watch him gently guide his little sister along, caring for her the way I have not seem him yet care for another. I get to hold a sleeping baby girl in my arms, a baby girl who is such a sweet answer to prayer. I get to sit in God's presence, be it two minutes at a time, and feel Him, the God of the universe, stirring in my heart and mind. I get to know that no matter how few audible words are spoken to me, I am a child of God, one who he made, just the way I am. He loves me more than any other and I have never audibly heard him, but I have certainly felt his love in ways not comparable to love expressed in words.
So, how can I give Him a gift of my heart, I can continue to spend myself. I can get up before dawn and go to bed late, after that last preparation is complete for my family the next day. I can serve my patients despite what the world may or may not view them as. I can find time to seek him, so that I can give these gifts- because without him and His perspective, I begin to rely on the success barometer of the world. I look to spend money and hear words of affirmation so that I know I am worthwhile. That is certainly not why he came. That is certainly not how he showed up. He showed up, in a stable with dirty old cows and sheep as a baby, who could not speak. He spent his whole life. For me and you.
Welcome baby Jesus, my treasure, my greatest gift of the heart ever. He can be yours too.
