Intentional Caring

"I'm so glad to see you again," she gushed. "I've wanted to get back here sooner, to tell you thank you for pursuing that MRI for me."  Tears began to well up in her eyes, and I found my own beginning to mist up too.  I hadn't seen her in over a year, but I had read over her past notes and realized her absence had been because of having breast cancer.  But here she was before me, radiant and perky.  Her hair loss was covered with an orange bandanna, and her smile contained good news that with chemo her cancer now was gone.  Yes, there would still be surgery to face, but there was hope with the illness found so soon. . . 


It's been a hard week for me, sometimes I feel so overwhelmed as I go from door to door. Behind each one is the life story of a person in need.  Not everyone can express their needs directly, as often they lie woven in descriptions of surrounding events.  I find myself keenly listening and sorting through, attempting to clarify and understand.  I strive to be upfront, to let them always know the truth, and yet above all else, I want them to know I care.  Sometimes, they are called to walk hard paths, some illnesses are beyond repair.  But even then, they need someone to guide, to lean upon, and walk along the side of them. . . 

Long ago, in the infant years of Christianity, there was such a one known by the Apostle Paul as "the beloved brother and faithful minister."  His name was Tychicus and he is barely mentioned in the Bible except  for what Paul wanted him to do.  His task was to carry Paul's letter to a particular church and convey everything that was going on with Paul, as well as comforting their hearts.  He had to provide the reality, the fact of Paul in prison, but with a compassionate heart that would comfort the people's fears and worries.  That is intentional caring, the task of telling people the honest facts, good and bad, but with loving kindness. . .

I found myself responsively reaching out to pat her knee as she sat on the exam table before me.  As she spoke, the words "the Lord bless you," automatically fell out of my mouth.  I realized anew right then of the privileged position I have been given.  Any good that I do for my patients is only because of God's grace and leading.  I am humbled when I realize that He has chosen to use my eyes, my ears, and hands to deliver His healing, and to give intentional caring. . .