I was at the hospital today where I met an amazing nurse, Lorna. She and I have become good friends due to my now frequent visits to the hospital. Of all the nurses I have met and interacted with all my life (I think there are five of them), she tops the list. As we were chatting, I listened to her talk to me about her job, especially with the ongoing doctors’ strike, and I couldn’t help but admire her love for people.
Sick people, I might add; she calls them her patients, and she went on and on about how she treats them, cleans them and nurses them completely until they are back. As soon as she said that, a sigh of relief washed over me because I knew she would take care of me, so I let her.
When I got home, I was just drained. It’s been one hard month for me. Before it all started, I remember having this dread of hospitals, and I kept praying and asking God to not let me end up in a hospital for whatever reason. The more I prayed about it, the more the fear intensified. One time, on my way to work, I said the same prayer, but as I was doing it, I heard this question in my heart: "Wouldn’t you trust me if it happened?". I could not answer it at that moment, so I just kept quiet.
A few weeks after that, I landed in the hospital. My condition necessitated surgery and I can promise you nothing can prepare you for that. God ensured that I had amazing doctors who kept checking in on me before and after surgery. They did a perfect job on me physically, but emotionally and psychologically, I was a mess. When I left the hospital I was my usual self, laughing and excited but extremely swollen and sore but still talking to my family and friends about how everything went and how I found it hilarious that anesthesia knocked me out that fast.
The drama began the next day when the anesthesia wore off. Every part of me was in pain and the medicine left me nauseated and suddenly close to every person who saw me in that state marveled at how small I was, how bad and weak I looked. Everywhere I went, it seemed to be the only thing people noticed about me and they even made fun of me and of the food I ate, and it infuriated me. I was feeling bad enough already and conscious of my weight as well and trying to manage pressure levels because of the migraines I was having.
Anytime anyone started speaking about my weight, I would switch off and avoid them all together. It wasn’t the best way of handling it, but it got me by at the time.
Because I call Yahweh my Father, because no one cares as much as he does. He knew all these things would happen, and every time something happened, he gave me a word for it. For example, before people started talking about how I looked, he knew it disturbed me and would continue to do so. Therefore, he showed me in a vision the words "Beautiful and Strong" engraved somewhere.
To be honest, I didn't feel like either of them, but I clung to his promise. He kept reminding me that he was still with me and that his strength was made perfect in my weakness. He talked to me about His approval, how I should base everything on what He says and not what the world says. Beauty is in His hands, not man’s hands, because He is the one who created us all, whether big, small, or medium, and when He finished creating us, he said it was good. Plus, he created us in his own image and likeness, and nothing beats that. I smiled like a fool after that and started dancing.
When Lorna talked about how she loves taking care of her patients, the Lord revealed to me that that is how He loves taking care of you and me.
We are His patients because we need Him every day and He delights in helping us and taking care of us, but just like I let Lorna take care of me, we have to let Him take care of us. We have to be willing to be honest with Him about our deepest desires/insecurities for Him to reach down and touch us.
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