Here I Am

On Monday morning I had my 3 three month endocrinology check up.  In an ideal world, I would be at a 6 month check up visit, but my A1C was up a little last time, from 6.2 to 6.8, so the leash got shorter.  I probably need to switch to a once-a-week non-insulin shot or maybe even a daily shot rather than a twice a day shot because that evening shot gets left out often if I end up out and about, in meetings, etc.  The doc and I discussed those options this Monday morning, even after the happily surprising reveal that the A1C was exactly the same as the last time.  Considering all the transitions going on, all the extra work, meetings, and stress, I was pleased.  But, I don't want to stay there.  The goal is to be 6.5 or below.  I think we can achieve it.  Yet, here I am.

I left the office encouraged and headed down to Starbucks for a cup of coffee before heading in to the office.  Monday is one of the Rossville office days.  I got my coffee and as I was heading out, I felt a nudge to go to the hospital chapel to pray.  Here I am.

I walk into the chapel all ready for my personal quiet time with God.  This hospital chapel has recently been redone and is beautiful.  The moment I walked in, I recognized that I had walked in on a situation.  I stood still as I observed a family in the room crying, talking, and filling out prayer requests.  As I stood there, for a moment I contemplated leaving them in their space.  Yet, that nudge came again and prompted me to let them know who I was.  The nudge was like 'tell them you're a pastor and you will pray with them if they'd like'.  I still stood there with my coffee and my pack over my shoulder with my medical records, bag of medicine, etc.  I probably had a 'deer in headlights' look and what seemed to me an eternity was probably no more than a moment.  I finally said, "I'm a pastor.  Would you like me to pray with you?"  Here I am.

Most pastors don't wear blue and white tie-dyed shirts with grommets on them, so I pulled out my clergy hospital ID that I had in my bag and a business card for proof, after setting down the coffee and taking another sip.

As I listened to the family's story and got the introductions of the people in the room, I realized that the nudge for me to go the chapel to pray wasn't really about me.  It was about being available for others.  Here I am.

We prayed together and then they gave me permission to go up to the room and pray with the patient.  Oh, what an honor and blessing that was.  I asked which elevator and floor because it had been a while since I had been there and I wanted to go straight there.  They told me.  When I got there and picked up the phone to get in, it was odd to say that I was there to visit someone whose family I had just met, but that is the case.  I was there sent by the family to pray.  As I write this, I remember another time where I read about a situation from some friends and I told them I was local here in Chattanooga and I went to see the family and that family also invited me to go in and pray with their family member.  Being available.  Here I am.

I went in and prayed.  I spoke to the family member and I spoke to the few staff I saw as I was coming and going, to encourage them in their work.

I haven't heard an update yet, but I plan to check back in.  One of the hardest things for me was that the situation touched the edges of my borders and took me back to 1993.  It wasn't the same situation that put my brother in his journey, but it was still that journey.  To walk that journey, even a little bit of it, with others is a privilege.

Here I am.

I don't always hear/feel the nudges.  When I do, I don't always trust them or obey them.  Sometimes I don't want to hear or feel them.  At other times I'm too busy.    There is that moment of truth, like on Monday, where I knew I was in a place, in a moment, 'for such a time as this'.  My choice was to not live into my being, my calling or live into it.  My choice and my response was: here I am.

Are you wondering why I hesitated in the room?  I'll tell you.  Sometimes I still don't feel like I'm a pastor.  I'm in my 3rd year of my first appointment.  I've been a pastor to pastors and others long before this appointment, but sometimes it still doesn't "feel" right.   I had the same feeling with teaching and I taught for 24 years.  I was once on an elevator at a conference with colleagues and they looked at me and asked if I was a graduate assistant somewhere.  At that point I had been teaching for about 5 years.  Living into who I am and whose I am has always been one of my battles, but the Creator, the GREAT I AM continues to draw me near and remind who and whose I am.  Therefore, as I take the time to listen to the One Voice, I am able to say 'here I am'.   Each time I respond, I am reminded, encouraged, and affirmed of my calling.  I AM a pastor.  Here I am.

Where are you on your journey?

How are you being encouraged  to live into what you are called to be and do?

Or what do you need to encourage you?

Take a moment to listen to this song:

Blessings on your journey,

Debra

Waiting room food

The other day (Thursday, December 12) I went with a friend to her scope appointment at the hospital.  While in the main waiting room area, a representative from a local hospital came in and announced that there was food in the ICU waiting room for all folks like us hanging out in the waiting room.  Since we had run into an old friend who was there with another friend for a friend, we were all waiting for my friend to get called back into a room. 

The friend that we knew from another church went with his friend to get some food (which by the way was yummy sandwiches, chips, deviled eggs, etc).

My friend got called back to a room.

Then, I got moved to a smaller waiting room and said goodbye to my friends, the old one and the new one.  It had been good to catch up with the one and get to know the other.

In the new waiting room, there weren't as many people. 

After reading for quite a while, a tall gentleman comes in, looking around and saying 'there's no food in here.'  He sits down declaring that he could eat a large hamburger about now, making a huge hamburger sign with his hands.  Sounded good to me.  He had some pictures with him.  Now I understood why he was so hungry.  He was a patient and just finished with a scope.  I didn't ask which one.

I told him there was food in the ICU waiting room, compliments of a church, but that I didn't know how to get there because someone else had been kind enough to get my plate.   He declined.  He didn't seem to really want to go anywhere.

I noticed he was wearing a star around his neck.  It looked like a Star of David, but a little different.  So, I got up to take a closer look.  I told him I liked his star.  He told me it was a Star of David.  It had colored jewels inside.  Then he proceeded to start talking about the King.  And, he slowly, yet surely, became animated.  Not overly animated, but alive.

He forgot all about his hunger.

Turns out, he's a preacher.  His dad and his grandfather were preachers.  They were gifted with healing.  He talked about Jesus, helping others, taking the Word and food into the projects, offering picnics to kids when his kids were younger, etc.  He shared and shared.  I wondered what the rest of the folks thought about this, but they seemed to be okay with it.  I was a little concerned that I had started something by simply asking about his star.

It was neat listening to his stories.

When he was done, I said something to him about getting his meal later on and he said he didn't even feel hungry any more.   A lady near me said that he just ate. ☺  She knew what was going on.  She had not only been listening, but interacting. 

Yes, there was spiritual food being shared in that waiting room.  And, even though he was the one sharing it, he was also fed by it, as were the rest of us.  We all got filled it.

After his ride came and he left, I overheard some other conversations.  I shouldn't have been worried whether or not I should have started a conversation.  First of all, if I am acting on God's leadings, that is God's issue.  Second of all, the other folks started talking about church and ministry, etc. 

I didn't get the guys' name. 

But I did get two helpings of waiting room food that day.

Blessings on your journey,

Debra