My first week of work went really well. I parked in the right parking garage the first time, found my floor with no major upset, clocked in on time, and began my first rotation for residency. I had a wonderful preceptor and patients from all kinds of cultures, backgrounds, and stories. There are times when my heart aches to be overseas – I’ve made rice and beans so many times these past two weeks because I miss Costa Rica. I miss Ecuador – the people, the landscape, the culture. That being said, it’s been such a blessing to realize that I can still minister to the nations even in an American city – although, I think they blessed my heart more than they realized. My first week went really smoothly, and Friday morning I headed to the airport at the crack of dawn to catch my first solo flight back home.
I managed to find the airport with no worries – my GPS has become a fast friend. I parked in the long term lot and managed to follow another (seemingly more experienced) traveller to the terminal and caught my plane on time. I sat next to a young woman from Florida in the very back row of the airplane. She had on very high heels and looked very put together – I was wearing my trusty Keens and my brother’s sweatshirt. Our flight was delayed a bit, which means we both had to run to catch our connections in Memphis. She asked me if I could grab her bag so she could get a different pair of shoes on – I had to smile when she pulled out silver, sparkly plastic flip flops. She was running in style as we lugged our bags through the Memphis airport. As I was running I was reminded of the last time I’d been in the Memphis airport – the summer of 2006 – running to catch my flight home. I caught this one like I caught the last one and made it to Charlotte safely (good thing too, cause I was at the exit seat and none of us wanted to see if I could handle the responsibility that came with it J). My mom was waiting for me – my favorite sight of the week.
David and Susan GIBSON are now officially married! You can’t help get excited when you witness something so pure and purposed as their wedding. I was so blessed to celebrate with them – and genuinely celebrate. When you get to see a couple like Susan and David get married, there’s nothing negative to be thought or said – you’re reminded of the Gospel – and you get really excited about heaven.
After nearly missing my flight the next morning in Charlotte – I made it back to Nashville and my car by the grace of Jesus and mom’s skillful driving. The second week of work started and I had my first experience with night shift. I learned a lot last week – and though it took me a few days to recover from a sketchy sleep pattern, I enjoyed the people I worked with and my patients.
Last night I made myself go back to church. I wanted to go – but I knew that I would be going alone. It’s very easy for me to talk myself out of going places when I know I’m going to feel a little awkward, new, and out of place. The church is a good drive away from me, and so it gave me some time to talk to Jesus – confessing my fear of man, as I was embarrassingly nervous. I walked into the cool gymnasium and took a seat in the back. During the “greeting” time I got to meet a few more faces – one asked me if I was from Nashville, and when I told him I’d just moved, he welcomed me and talked with me for a few minutes. It was simple. Nothing big or brilliant – but it put me more at ease. As we worshipped, I was reminded of how God is Father – I can crawl up into his lap and sing to him as though it’s just the two of us. Fear of man cripples worship. Confession was incredibly convicting – maybe it’s a Presbyterian thing, but they do this time of confession in which a leader reads a statement of confession and you reflect on it and take time to spend with the Lord. The first statement went something like, “For the times we’ve selfishly focused on our need for friendship but have been unwilling to extend it.” Here I am – in a room of family, united in Jesus – and I’m unwilling to offer or extend friendship because I’m afraid and not “at home” here. But church is not a building, and that gym was no one’s home. I’m a member of the body – called to act as a member of the body – regardless of where I am. Fear of man cripples community and intimacy.
Interestingly enough, the topic was on community last night.
Today I woke up feeling rushed. I was really stressed and anxious, as though I had something big happening today, but there was nothing to merit such an awful feeling. I went to work and found that there was a mistake with my paycheck. I’m most likely going to have to switch residencies and move everything over to TN – a reality that I’ve been trying to avoid for the first few months to see if I really want to stay here or not. I ended up staring at the screen of my laptop this afternoon in frustration and depression. My throat started to close and tears started to pool behind my eyelids. I ended up in the fetal position, clinging to Binky, and trying to hold back an ocean.
Switching residencies is more than just the financial inconvenience that I really don’t want to expend – and that I couldn’t spare before Friday. There’s this false sense of security in staying connected to my home and family – a window of denial when I can pretend that I’m not on my own so far away. Like Binky, it’s been a bit of a security blanket. The truth is – it’s just a technicality. It’s not like I can never move back home. I can, just like I could before – it would just involve more effort into switching everything back again – but it can be done. The truth is – I’m still living hours from home whether the tags on my car say SC or TN. It sounds so stupid letting this out – but it was the crack that unleashed the dam today. While I love my job and I’m enjoying meeting new people and getting accustomed to my new surroundings, I miss home with a huge ache in my heart. I miss coming into my house and hearing my brothers calling each other by first syllable nicknames. I miss my dad’s obnoxious singing as he praises his own beauty every morning. I miss watching TV with my mom at night, munching on her popcorn and stealing sips of her drink. I miss my stinky, hairy dogs – the way that the stretch and crinkle up their faces while wagging their tales as they come up to greet you. They don’t care how awful you’ve behaved or how great you think you’ve been during the day – they just love to have their head rubbed. I miss that dirt road, and driving passed fields of green, spotted with cows. I miss the blessing of friendship and the luxury of the familiar.
That being confessed – I know that this is for my good and for my growth. God, in His goodness and remarkable faithfulness, has been slowly stripping and peeling away all that keeps me from un-fractured unity with him. As this third week continues, as this season progresses, I crave your prayers. He who called me is faithful to keep me.
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