5 a.m.
I’m about to start my day, and I find myself wondering, who am I seeing today?
I’m thinking about my lineup. I’m a home health physical therapist, and I know who’s on my schedule to be seen today. Some I have already met, some I haven’t. With the unknown ahead, I ask myself, what will I be stepping into?
It’s different for me. I come in and I leave. Physically, I’m able to get in and out of my car, walk to the door, and walk back to my car. No issues.
But for the vast majority of my patients, doing something as simple as this is burdensome, painful, and taxing.
So today, I find myself thinking about what I have, the opportunity I’ve been given. Each stop and each door I enter provides an opportunity to impact somebody else’s life and to give them something that they may not have had before I stepped into the room: encouragement, hope, kindness, motivation, love, and compassion.
I hope I can extend these things to each person that I see today. But I admit, it is not always easy.
The barriers that I face may not be physical, but there are real barriers.
What’s my attitude like? Am I tired? Am I fully present, engaged, and attentive to them and what they need? Or am I distracted? Can I handle their concerns? Is there something else that my mind is on that is taking me away from them?
My barriers to providing what they might need look different than the barriers that they face. But they are real barriers. And I’ve got to wrestle with that every single time, every door and person that I enter into life with.
This isn’t insignificant. I’m not trying to boost ego by overstating the impact I might be able to have today. But it really matters.
Today I’m grateful. I’m grateful that I can get in and out of my car with ease. I’m grateful that I can walk to doors and knock and step into homes. I’m grateful for the things that I have and the people that I’m going to come across today.
I know they’ll be facing hard situations. And I know there will be times when I feel tired and just don’t feel like doing what I need to do.
But there’s going to be opportunities. Will I be ready?
Honestly, I don’t know.
And here’s where I pivot, because there’s something really important that I’ve learned. I, on my own, don’t have what it takes. I cannot, alone, make the impact and bring exactly what my patients need.
I need something more, something greater.
This is where I find Jesus.
I was reading in John chapter 11 yesterday, and this struck me. In the moment of Mary and Martha’s crisis, when they asked Jesus where in the world he was when their brother was sick and dying, and died.
When they asked this question, where was he?
he was there. He was with them. He was present.
I can be present for moments. But this is something far beyond what I could ever hope to give anyone with the short moments of time that I have with them, or the impact I can leave. Jesus is readily available, present, and near. And he won’t leave.
In hard times, in the moments of crisis, when we just don’t have a clue what’s next or what to do, we can trust this: he’ll be there.
I’m not just saying this with flippant faith. I do know what it’s like to feel hopeless, scared, and completely overwhelmed. I do know what it’s like to feel the floor drop out of life, reach rock bottom, and feel completely alone.
But I can look back at where he was, and look ahead with confidence, knowing that he’ll be there too.
So let’s close this out with a final question. One I hope you’ll think about no matter where you’re going, who you’re seeing, or what you’re doing today, whether it’s healthcare or in another role.
The last question I have:
Today, are you trusting that Jesus will be there for you?