Alabaster and Nard

The missing puzzle piece and the bend in the road.

We all have a purpose for our lives. This may sound radically cliché; it may have been instilled into our heads a little too much growing up, but that does not negate the fact that it is entirely true. We have a purpose for our lives. I have a purpose for my life. I know this to be true because Jeremiah 29:11 tells me so: “For I know the plans I have for you…” The Lord has a ridiculously amazing plan for my life. I know He does; I feel it down to my very bones. This thought has been prompted by the revelation of the life of Pope John Paul II – a strangely different philanthropist of a Pope. He appeared to be following, with all his heart, the will and the path the Lord had laid aside for him. And I have had to ask myself, “Can I do the same?”

I like to think that the way the Lord reveals His will for our lives is a little bit like a scavenger hunt. When I was younger, my dad would always create scavenger hunts for me. He would write up little slips of paper and scatter them around the house, and wait and watch while I tried to unravel the clues. Up and down the stairs, outside, around the house, in the mailbox – he was amazingly creative when it came to revealing the next clue to the puzzle. And always at the end, something wonderful awaited me. Once, it was an ice cream treat; another time, a new toy; once, above all my expectations, it was a beautiful new bedroom set (which I still have and use today.) I like to think that that is a little how the Lord works when He reveals to us little bits of His plan for our lives. He does not want to give away the whole game at once – for where would the faith and fun be in that? No, little by little, prompt by prompt, every day, we get closer to the revelation of our lives; the “aha!” moment, when the curtains part, and the marvelous plan for our lives is revealed like a beautifully produced play.

I am a huge Anne of Green Gables fan. And in one part of the first book, Anne talks about the “road” of her life. She always thought it was so linear, and that she had it all worked out how it would go: school, college, marriage, etc. But then, a curveball is thrown in, and a bend in the road is revealed. She cannot see as far ahead as she had previously thought. “…My future seemed to stretch out before me like a straight road. I thought I could see along it for many a milestone. Now there is a bend in it. I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend.” I could not agree more. It may be reassuring to know every aspect of one’s life, before it plays out; it may be comforting to have every milestone mapped out. But it is not nearly as much fun, and it does not require nearly as much faith in the Lord’s providence.

I do not know what my road holds for me. I would like to think that I have a faint glimpse, maybe, of what the next few miles may hold, at the least; but I know, without a doubt, that a curve is coming up somewhere, sometime soon. All I know, right now, in this moment, is that I need to finish school, and finish strong - to perform well, to exceed academically, to love my fellow students. More than that the Lord has not solidly and assuredly revealed to me.

It is scary to not know what the future holds. A sharp turn may come up even tomorrow and knock me off my feet in its unexpected arrival. But the purpose of my life is not so much about the specific things I will do, or not do; no, the measure and scope of my life will be recognized by whether I was a woman who followed the Lord with all her heart and soul, who willingly made sacrifices for Him; who pursued Him at cost to her reputation, family, and dreams, or whether I was a woman who lived for her own desires and recognition and fame. I will endeavor to be the former.

“Nursing’s not a ministry.”

For my entire life (or, at least, for as long as I can remember) there was never a moment when I doubted that my faith and my profession would be integrated together into my ministry focus. It was never even an option for me. I went into college with the intention that my four years of schooling would be the training I would need to go out into the world “and make disciples of all nations.” I did not choose nursing because I absolutely loved the idea of it (although, I have found that to be true now), or because the profession would grant me the biggest paycheck. I choose nursing because I believed that my talents and my spiritual gifts, which the Lord had graciously bestowed upon me, would be best served and utilized being a nurse. I have questioned that calling – and so have others. When I tell them that nursing will be my ministry, they more often than not give me a peculiar look, shrug their shoulders, and seem to want to say to me, “I think you’re crazy, but it is your life, so do what you will.” You see, we live in a world now that tells us to constantly think of money, of security, of a big house in a suburb with 2.5 kids and a dog. I think of that life, and I think, “How very boring! How absolutely average!” I was not called to that sort of life – a life of normalcy, of monotony. I want my career as a nurse to be exciting, thrilling, demanding; I want it to take me to the corners of the earth; I want it to glorify God. When I told someone once about my intentions to become a nurse, and how I would use that training to further the Lord’s kingdom, through physical and emotional healing, he responded back to me, “I have never heard someone talk about nursing in that way.” And I responded back to him, “And isn’t that just a shame?” Nurses are trained to be holistic caregivers. We are taught to look at the human body and spirit, and see more than just physical ailments. What better way to do that, than with the love of Christ propelling us? With Christ, there is healing, there is comfort, and there is assurance. That is what patients need, more so than the right medication, at the right time, in the right dose. They need someone to look at them, and actually see them. They do not always get that from their doctors, who just see a body with a disease that they can (potentially) cure; they do not see it always in their friends, who may look at them under a film of pity and remorse. But we nurses have the professional training and education in a scientific field, coupled with the desire to look deep into a person’s soul and see their hurt and need, to actually really care for our patients. If more nurses would just realize it, they would come to the conclusion that they are in one of the most ideal situations to share Christ’s love with others.

People have tried to convince me to change majors; “You should be a theology major,” “You should be a service major.” I’ve even told myself, “You should change majors and pursue something easier. Nursing is not worth the pain, and the sleep deprivation, and the isolation, and the mental and emotional breakdowns from which you are currently suffering.” They mean well, I know they do. And, indeed, never has my time and health and intelligence been so taxed and put to the test. But I know my calling, and I know how the Lord equipped and designed me. The very fact that nobody seems to see nursing as a ministry is all the more reason that I should continue down that path. If no one else will do it, I will, to glorify my Maker and show others His love.

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’”