i'll go where you want me to go
Two Sundays ago, David and I had our last day serving at the Medical Branch. For the last year, David and I have volunteered at the University Hospital and the Huntsman Cancer Institute with their Pastoral Care. More specifically, since we are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we went to the hospital every Sunday to help out with their Sacrament services. Not only did we help out with Sacrament Meeting, but we also took the Sacrament to patients in their rooms who were unable to make it to the main church service. We also went to the hospital at night during the week to give patients priesthood blessings or to visit patients who needed cheering up.
For one, I feel like we both gained a lot of perspective (and when I say "we," I really mean "I"). I've had a lot of learning to do this year about the things that are truly important. I feel like law school really knocked my priorities out of whack--at times, life seemed like it was so awful and horrible and that I was never going to survive (David pointed out to me that this sounds a little melodramatic, which is true---most of the time, it wasn't that bad). But then, we'd go to the hospital, and I realized that things really weren't so terrible after all. In order to truly help the patients we visited, I had to check my worries at the door. And when we left the hospital a few hours later, I had to make the conscious decision to not pick them back up again. Though that didn't always happen (worrying is one of my specialties), the opportunity to serve other people helped me to keep my head on straight (most of the time) and helped me to realize that there is more to life than final exams.
Another wonderful thing about the hospital was the fact that I got to spend so much time with David. Because he works full-time and is going to school full-time, there have been many weeks where Sunday is the only day where we really get to spend time with each other without homework (in my world, homework has become that awkward third wheel that seems to always pop up when there is other fun to be had . . .). But more than that, we've been able to spend time with each other and help other people at the same time. It's been great to see David exercise the priesthood as he blessed the Sacrament or gave blessings to patients. Similarly, I think it's been great for David to see me serve other people, too (at this point you are probably wondering if all I did was tag-along and hang out while David did cool things. In reality, I did cool things, too. Even though as a female I don't have the priesthood, I feel like I had the ability to administer to patients in other ways---I think there were many times where I was prompted to do or say a particular thing that David didn't necessarily think about, and we were better able to help patients because of it).
Not only that, but the people we served with at the hospital were fantastic. There were so many awesome couples we served with that taught us how to serve with dedication and how to reach out and love other people (not that I didn't love people before. Loving strangers takes a different skill set, one that I am still learning how to develop). Some of the greatest friends David and I have made during our first year of marriage have been among these wonderful people, and we are so grateful that we were able to rub shoulders with them over this past year.
But probably one of the best things we did was to participate in miracles. Because of HIPAA, I can't share specifics of patients we visited; however, I will say that it was remarkable to be there when David and other members of our branch gave blessings to newborn babies in the NICU who were born at twenty-five weeks, and to later hear that those babies were overcoming challenges that made doctors scratch their heads. On the other hand, it was humbling to be there when patients were given end-of-life blessings in which David told the patient that it was okay to die. It's overwhelming to think of all of the people we've seen---from the cancer units to the maternity wards, the cardiovascular units to all of the intensive care units, the emergency room and the psychiatric unit---and to remember their faces and their stories. I feel like each of those patients gave us more than we could ever give to them. And I'm humbled, because I never expected to feel so grateful after being with extremely sick people in a hospital.
And now I am sad to leave. I'll be honest and say that I grumbled a lot when the bishop of our home ward called us and said it is time to return to our ward and give somebody else the opportunity to serve at the hospital. I cried sporadically for a few weeks---I've never felt so sad to be released from a calling before. But I know that returning is the right thing. Over the past couple of weeks, the hymn, "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go," has come to my mind many, many times. In fact, it was even sung at the past General Relief Society Meeting (which caused me to cry again---I don't think it was a coincidence that song was sung). It's reminded me that there is work to be done everywhere---not just at the hospital---and that our talents and abilities must be needed elsewhere.
It's been a hard message to swallow (and I sobbed when we sang that song as we gave our goodbyes at the hospital a couple of weeks ago), but it's one that I've tried to take in stride. I suppose I could have pulled a Jonas and told the Lord, "Um, no thanks," but I don't really have any desire to be swallowed by a whale. In all seriousness, however, I am excited for a new adventure with David, even if it means sitting still at regular church for three hours. So, I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, and I'll do my best to smile and be grateful for the opportunities we've had thus far.
Comments
Post a Comment