No promises on how this one is going to come out… I am drinking red wine, the baby has been a screaming banshee for the better part of the day, I’m covered in baby oatmeal, and I don’t remember if I ate lunch.
A little over a month ago, the day of the Las Vegas shooting, I heard God’s voice. I am not one to fabricate hearing the voice of my Savior, as I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before or since (not that tangibly anyways). I was driving down the interstate, on my way to work, and I felt the saturating presence of God. I didn’t get a full blown revelation… just one sentence: “I want you to go back to the hospital.” Funny, huh? I honestly laughed out loud, alone in my car. Me? The Hospital? We know how the last time turned out, God… you don’t remember? Panic attacks, crippling fear, and a new beast I have been fighting to rid myself of ever since. OCD. And you want me to go back? You have been painfully silent as I have prayed feverishly for healing from OCD. For You to pull me out of its relentless grasp. And now you want me to go back? To purposefully rip myself out of this comfortable place I am in currently, and step back into the unknown? Really? … Of course You do.
From that day forward, everything fell into place like only God could orchestrate. I was offered a position back in the hospital setting. My husband accepted a new position that allows me to significantly reduce my working hours. We were able to take Gatlin out of daycare, and I no longer have to commute to Nashville. And yet, one thing still remains: I still have OCD. Its easy to pray “Lord, even if you don’t take this away, you are still good,” isn’t it? Because these are just words. I know, because I prayed them. I honestly thought that He would heal me, and I wouldn’t have to worry about the rest of the sentence. I was told by so many well-meaning friends, “You can’t have OCD with a baby, it will go away.” And I wish so intensely that they were right. I can still tell you every single time my son’s pacifier touches an “unclean” surface. My heart stops when people reach out to touch his tiny toes. I had to stop pumping, because I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was contaminating the milk somehow, and subsequently hurting my son.
Why do I tell you this?
Because in the wake of this job change, one truth became vividly apparent: You’re going to want a nurse like me. When you, your family, or your friends are sick, you’re going to want someone like me in your healthcare team. You never have to doubt if I am taking my time, paying close attention to detail. You know I have washed my hands, probably more than necessary. You know that I know what I’m doing, down to the smallest detail. Because I refuse to be the reason, or a contributing factor, as to why you are sick. Because I am so passionate about helping and healing, that it is woven into the very fiber of my being. I firmly believe this is why God did not answer my prayers of healing: I was made to heal, OCD and all.
What does this mean for me going forward? That I wont struggle? Absolutely not. I am very certain I will still have panic attacks, trouble sleeping, obsessive thoughts, and cleaning compulsions. I may never let my child be dirty (not if I can help it!). I may not see relief from anxiety on this side of heaven.
But He is still GOOD.
I understand these words now. The Lord works all things together for the good of those who love Him. He is GOOD and His ways are PERFECT. Always. So, if you happen to come to the hospital and see me, rest assured that I will care for you to the absolute best of my ability. It’s what I was made for, I just sometimes need a little reminding. Living in the Lord’s will for your life is not comfortable, I know that first hand. But it is so very worth it to carry out exactly what we were put on this Earth for: loving His people and advancing His Kingdom. Amen.