I just worked 72 hours in six days.
I also squeezed in a trip to Duluth to visit my sister and somehow managed to survive
a head cold. On top of that, I seem to be stuck in a middle-of-the-night
transfer rut, which means my sleep average at work for the last five shifts has
been 2.5 hours.
As I got off work this morning, I
came away with a greater view of God’s faithfulness and tender mercies. Not
only are His grace and strength sufficient for each step, but also He delights
in blessing His children. Sometimes the blessings are big and obvious, while
others are small and, if I don’t look close enough or my heart isn’t sensitive,
easy to miss.
Two shifts ago at 0200 hours, I was
trying desperately not to fall asleep. My partner was driving us back from a
transfer. I was fighting nasal congestion and willing away the miles, eagerly
anticipating the moment when I could crawl back into bed at base. Suddenly I
felt prompted to look out my window and when I did, the sky was glowing –
vibrant green Aurora Borealis against a star-studded background. My partner
stopped the ambulance on the side of the road and we just watched the
spectacular display for several minutes. For me, it was a love note from my
Heavenly Father. He knew exactly where I was, what I was doing, how tired I
was, and He chose to remind me of His love in a very visible way.
Last night, or, rather, early this
morning, I was thankful for the few hours of sleep I got before the transfer
call came in. About fifteen minutes down the road, a shooting star streaked
across the night sky right in my field of vision. I hadn’t seen one since I was
a child. We got back to base only a few hours before my shift ended, but I was
able to get another hour of sleep, for which I was very grateful. For someone whose
enemy is insomnia, it is such a relief when I can sleep and sleep well.
Sometimes I sit back in wonder at
where I am right now: an insomniac like me working 24 shifts. It’s just not
what I would have pictured or realized I would do. I had read yesterday’s
calendar quote before I went to work, but it was all the more vivid this
morning: “Be prepared for the will of God to be very different from what you
imagined.” I couldn’t agree more with Elisabeth Elliot’s statement.
Then, as I pondered that more, I
realized it is because God’s will not about me. It’s not about what I can do
for God, what things I achieve, or what I plan to do with my future. It’s all
about Christ and what He does through me for His glory. It’s about His will.
“It’s not about what we become for
Him.
It’s about what He makes of us for His glory.”
I’m not sure who that quote
is from, but I think they say it well. When I’m in fellowship with Christ and
my heart is in tune to His direction, then wherever He places me or whatever He
puts before me is His will for me. From the beginning of eternity, He’s had a
plan and, however miniscule my role may seem in the big picture, I’m humbled
that He wants to use me. I’m a simple clay pot with holes, if you will, through
which His light can shine out to the world and out of which His love can pour
for others. He has a plan for each one of us but He does not forget our frail
humanity or set us aside simply because we are weak. “As a father shows
compassion to His children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him.
For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14). He
shows Himself strong where we are weak, crowns us with steadfast love and
mercy, and renews our youth like the eagle’s. He blesses us and is oh so good
to us. The end result is His honor and glory, of which He is infinitely and
eternally worthy to receive.
In
the words of Becky Buller’s beautiful prayer “Make Us to Shine,” may we be “worthy
in Your sight to illuminate the night.” May we be willing to shine however dark
the night, may we be willing to follow however steep the path, and may we be
willing to honor Him however high the cost. The cost of our redemption was far
too dear to Him for us to do nothing less.
