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