What If God Wants Me There?

“So, I’m seeing you guys come Sunday, Christmas?” the pastor asked my family and I as we exited the Sanctuary after our first worship service. Hugging each of us and seeing his enthused-powered smiles every time, we couldn’t help but smile back.

“Of course,” I replied with a grin to match his and that was what the three of us discussed and agreed upon when we realized as he announced from the altar that Sunday would be Christmas Day.

“Let’s go,” I told my husband who already said “Yes” anyway even before I was done asking him and my son agreed, too.

My smile eventually vanished when I remembered that I was scheduled to work come Christmas Eve, meaning that I would miss our fellowship on Sunday, Christmas Day.

“That’s okay,” my husband tried to reassure me knowing how heavier my heart grew when I told him.

“Kristian and I would still go even if you would miss it,” he added.

Of all places to be on such an important day of remembering Jesus, I would spend it on this place I had been dreading the most. I didn’t want to be there. I lost my enthusiasm ever since I was given a hard time by those people having higher positions. All because of their ill intentions to do what they want to do, showing how powerful they could become that they could do what they decided to do. It didn’t matter if people under them were not happy. It didn’t matter even if they didn’t want to announce and always surprised the staff with many changes that most of them were driven to more stressful situations on their part.

“Bummer,” I whispered to my husband and son.

At the back of the car, as my son drove to go to our favorite breakfast place, I had been contemplating about missing the fellowship. As I tried to say “I’m sorry” in my silent prayer only God could hear, I felt some comfort in my heart at the same time. The type that strengthened me and reassured me that it was okay for me to miss the service.

“What if He wanted me to be there?” I suddenly thought to myself.

“Who am I to refuse with what He wanted me to do?”

I didn’t know the reason why I felt comfortable after that thought but there was one thing sure in my heart and mind these past few days, even months and years….

“That there are lots of people suffering, both physically and much more spiritually.”

“How can I serve You God?” I sometimes asked Him, sometimes afraid I even asked Him knowing it could be uncomfortable many times.

But with His grace, I know I can… Only by God’s grace…

“³We have everything we need to live a life that pleases God. It was all given to us by God's own power, when we learned that he had invited us to share in his wonderful goodness. ⁴God made great and marvelous promises, so that his nature would become part of us. Then we could escape our evil desires and the corrupt influences of this world.

    ⁵Do your best to improve your faith. You can do this by adding goodness, understanding, ⁶self-control, patience, devotion to God, ⁷concern for others, and love. ⁸If you keep growing in this way, it will show that what you know about our Lord Jesus Christ has made your lives useful and meaningful. ⁹But if you don't grow, you are like someone who is nearsighted or blind, and you have forgotten that your past sins are forgiven.” – 2 Peter 1:3-9 (CEV)

Father, please forgive me for all my short-sighted visions. Give me a pair of eyes like Yours that see the needs of others around me. Give me ears that hear other's afflictions and give me hands that love to help out and reach out to others with the best I can. Give me a compassionate heart like Jesus', able to love unconditionally, even my enemies. Thank You God for loving us unconditionally and sending Jesus, Your only Son, to save humanity. This Christmas, help me remember the precious gift You had given me was not for me to keep, but also to be shared among others. Thank You Lord for Your love and mercy and grace. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

The Wounds In The Heart

There he was sitting on the cold floor, in a very long hallway in one of the prison’s units. In what appeared to be a weak state, he seemed not able to get up, close to a huge metal door, some deputies from both units where he sat were surrounding and watching him until we, the medical staff, came and responded to their radio call.

He claimed that he fell earlier in the day from his bunk and his unit sent him to the Infirmary to be examined. Halfway the distance, that was when he sat down and complained of being “dizzy.”

Borrowing a guerney from the nearest unit, the other nurse wheeled him down to the Clinic, as I struggled to carry the slight heavy red emergency bag, strapped to my right shoulder, my footsteps, following them.

“Do you mind taking over?” the nurse asked me if I could take care of this inmate who fell.

“Not at all,” I replied as I gathered the vital signs machine and other things I needed to evaluate and probe more.

He seemed very anxious. With his eyes going in every direction, only maintaining a short amount of time with eye contact, he kept complaining he didn’t feel good. I saw the beads of tears formed in those slightly almond shaped eyes, surrounded with a darkness that marked a lot of shallow sleeps and perhaps, nights that he didn’t sleep at all. He was honest about his history of being “bipolar.”

“Sir, there’s more to this…”

“What do you mean? I don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t feel good that’s why we brought you here to the Clinic to try and help you out. Do you feel like hurting yourself?”

He stopped in his marathon talks of complaints. He looked down and couldn’t maintain an eye contact with me even more. With a soft whisper, he let out an audible “Yes.”

As soon as he said that, he cried. He said that he had been constantly hearing his mother crying that it was driving him “nuts” that he felt hurting himself would end it all.

I wished we had more time so I could find out where the hurt was coming from. I knew he wasn’t dizzy physically. He was dizzy because of the confusion that was clouding his mind. He wanted to be surrounded with peace. But he was surrounded with darkness and noises only himself could hear that roused more anxiety deep within his heart. It was even worse that he was surrounded by the prison walls and the darkness that was present day and night as they only had tiny windows in each cells.

I wasn’t able to find out the true relationship that he had with his mother whether it was disruptive or a caring nature. But the bottom line was….this man was hurting deep inside. I could see the veil of anxiety covering him and despite being on some medications to help him, the symptoms were not being relieved at all. I could sense the scab of painful memories layered over the years in his heart.

I handed a piece of paper to the Deputy who would take him to our Suicide Watch. I knew he would have another long night without any possible sleep. But placing him to be monitored would guarantee his safety until he could be seen by the Mental Health doctor in the morning. It was sad that he needed to be protected. Not from others…But from himself.

A lot of times in my life’s journey, I stored what hurt me the most in my heart, especially if they were caused by others. And what a big heart I have that is capable of storing countless wounds! But in doing so, I learned to build walls to protect me and alienate me from those I suspected who would hurt me again. Sometimes, I tried to bury the painful memories to make me forget but every time I saw that place where I buried them, the pain started again. In reality, I was the only one who suffered the most, not those people who hurt me. The truth was I was hurting no one but myself.

There is no wound that God’s love cannot heal. But with the veil of darkness and pain that covered me, I had learned that I must be open to have these wounds be exposed to His light and healing. This was not a fun process but once I received His offer of love, His love replaced what was in my heart and with His help, I had put down those walls I created and let His bridge be built instead… Yes, those walls needed to come down first, in order for me to allow His grace and mercy to penetrate deep within and His Spirit to aerate the dead cells in my heart.

Because God loves to comfort…God loves us first… God wants us to be healed.

Are you willing to let those walls in your heart crumble and be open to His light and healing?

“For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…” – Isaiah 43:3 (NIV)

The Bell Ringer

"Before we can pray "Lord, Thy Kingdom come!", we must be willing to pray, "My Kingdom, go!" ~ Alan Redpath

I needed some radish and some peppers my husband liked with anything I cooked with broth. If not for these needed ingredients, I didn’t feel like dashing to the nearby grocery store as I would rather be cooped up inside our home, in my PJ, and just planned to stay that way all day. I knew the sunlight was deceiving as it shone brightly but the beautiful rays were not yet enough to warm up the blistering cold of the winter mornings.

Photo Credit

There he was, an old man just garbed in a typical polo shirt and denim pants, ringing the bell he held tightly with his right hand. He was one of the familiar sights of volunteers for the Salvation Army around this time of the year.

“Merry Christmas!” I heard him yelled out to every person who walked into the grocery store. People either seemed to be in a hurry or were trying to avoid his way as many were hurting at this economic times, no one greeted him back. But he kept greeting everyone whether he got a response, even a smile or not. Tirelessly swinging the bells in his right hand, he kept a big smile painted on his face despite the numbing cold of air that brushed against his already red face.

Then, it was my turn to meet him on my path…

“Merry Christmas!” he smiled at me.

Unbeknownst to him, I had been contemplating on my response. Few steps before meeting him, I had already seen and heard many others who had ignored him. I always thought that even if I didn’t want to greet him, there was Someone Who could see my actions. Then again, He also could see even with what was on my mind before I acted on them.

“Merry Christmas to you, too! Thank you!” I replied as I paid back the smile he had been wearing endlessly, my steps continuing toward the entrance of the store to get the things I needed.

It only took me less than five minutes to gather everything I needed for the planned dinner as the lady from the cash register handed me  back my change. I got some loose change and some dollar bills. I put them all back in my purse except for a dollar bill I wasn’t planning on depositing into that red bucket outside at first, was now intended to be given for whatever purpose it might serve, pooled with the other people’s donations. I knew I didn’t have to, but at that moment and in the verge of crossing path again with the pleasant volunteer, I was sure that I wanted to…

“I hope you get more!” I stated as I slid the bill into the bucket. His smile grew bigger and with twinkling in his eyes, he thanked me.

"No...Thank you!"

I knew it wasn’t about the dollar being donated to help others that prompted me to do that. It was about acknowledging the man’s presence, his volunteering, his smiles, his greetings to everyone who walked into his place. He didn’t have to do that but he wanted to, knowing that many were in need. He was giving a part of his heart that chose to labor for advancing the work of God.

Anyone born of the Spirit is indeed a part of the Salvation Army, that of Christ’s! Like that man, may we never tire in doing our work because for those who are willing to serve, God always has a place for them. In God's economy, nothing runs out because it is His love that is being circulated among us. Like that volunteer, what a beautiful day it will be for anyone if we all learn to acknowledge a person, greeting them from our hearts, showing them warm smiles even if they are not responding back, ringing the bells of freedom and making others who don't know Christ about the freedom He gives, tirelessly. Because no one knows what a rough time one could be going through and just that act of kindness, a simple act of kindness, coated with Christ's love sometimes, is what it takes to make someone see the love of God.

"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." - Ephesians 2:10 (ESV)

His Light

It was so cold when I went to work last Saturday afternoon, coupled with the gusty winds that threatened to make a mess of anyone’s hair-do.

My spirit had been restrained and not as excited to anticipate what the day’s work would bring ever since I was given a hard time at work regarding my work hour issues. Lots of changes had been made by the one-year old Nurse Manager. There surely was nothing wrong with that. But with the abrupt changes with everyone’s assignment and work hours without consulting and warning anyone brought displeasure to a person’s heart. If anyone attempted to surely have their gripes be heard, they would not be heard until somehow, their complaints got lost into oblivion.

“Here, Rcubes,” greeted the supervisor as she placed a red raffle ticket on my empty left palm.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“For coming to work on time. We’re gonna’ have a raffle some time and this is your ticket so I hope you win,” she replied.

Without any malicious intent, and my spirit just feeling odd with the response, I asked, “Can I give this to someone else?” (My spirit perhaps was in a little wonderment as to why they started that. When was coming to work like a promo that a person needed to be given an incentive just so one could be at work on time? Wasn’t being “on time” a must for employees who took their oaths when they got hired?).

The supervisor didn’t expect my response, looking like I was not being real. But I was. I didn’t want anything from them, supervisors and those other sitting on higher positions as she was one who intimidated me, too and got involved when she shouldn’t have been. She knew that. Except, in her own wisdom, she thought she was doing the right thing that it was time for me to stop working the hours I had been doing for so many years.

One LVN came and whispered to me, “Come, follow me, Rcubes. Gotta’ show you somethin’.”

As we both opened the door that used to house the shelves of different medications for the inmates, I was shocked to see the small room was empty and the computer monitors and the black wirings with them were down on the floor.

“Woo…What’s up with this?” I surprisingly asked.

“I only found out myself, too, just a few minutes ago when I came here to work. So, I thought I’d show you. You just discover everything on your own, I guess. No one told me,” she replied with a frustrating tone.

“Well, thanks for showing me because if I needed to give some medications during sick call, at least I know where the meds were transferred.”

As I went back to where I was sitting, the more my spirit felt low. Everything saddened me to see how things were going worse. Morale was low. The place seemed to be chaotic and dirty. More complaints could be heard with unsatisfied situations they were in. People became more lazy with their work habits. I saw masks donned on faces and even saw some with mask on front of their face and on the back of their heads. As I left that night, exhausted but grateful for God’s provision of His wisdom and protection, I knew my fire was being quenched deep inside by the forceful winds of change. I could sense the evilness. The more I felt sad about people. And I know, in order for me to strive, I needed to stoke the fire in me.

The bone-chilling air was harsher when I went out the door by midnight. As I started my car and left the staff’s parking lot, I glanced once more at the beautiful landscapes surrounding the prison with its manicured lawn, lush gardens, and tall fences. “How sad!” I thought that just because it was beautiful outside didn’t mean it also was deep inside. And what a vast darkness it was in there. As I pressed more on my gas pedal and wanted to be out of that place in a hurry, one thing was always sure that cheered my spirit: “Despite all these changes, the God I trust will never change. And He is not a God of confusion.”

Yes, I needed to stoke my spirit with His Word so that He can use me to bring even a little light in that dark place. I wouldn’t quit in this battle I had been in because if my career as a Correctional Nurse had to end, the reason was it was not because those people in positions made that possible. It would be because either God would bring me somewhere the way He placed me there after working for 10 years in Orthopedics or He was teaching me to grow more in character that His light would shine brighter in me.