When God Cries

I never run in the rain. I don't like getting wet. I don't like getting mud on my shoes. And wet socks are my worst enemy. Besides, I have this incredible fear of being struck by lightning. Crazy, I know. So if there is more than a 0.2% chance that it will rain at any point in the day, you will find me either on the treadmill or in my bed (probably in my bed 99.9% of the time, as the treadmill and I just aren't close friends either).

But today I woke up ready to hit the Park and RUN! I just knew it would be a gorgeous day for such and got all geared up to go. Upon opening the door, disappointment washed over me. It was drizzling. Not bad, but enough to get wet. So I did what every logical person would do and downloaded 2 additional weather apps to the 2 I already had on my phone and looked to see just how bad the rain would be and at what hour it would let up. It wasn't even forecast to rain much, so I headed out praying lightning wouldn't strike, of course.

Even on my way to the Park the sky cleared. Sweet. It was meant to be after all.

I ran my first 3 steps and the sky suddenly opened up. I was drenched within 5 minutes.

The rain was cold and stung my skin. I squinted my eyes in a futile attempt to keep the drops from burning my eyes. I pressed on and ran faster hoping it would let up again soon. It didn't.

The drops got bigger and fell quicker.

And I heard the voice of the Lord gently remind me that He knows the whole world is broken. It was as if He was saying, "I see, Janice. I know. And it breaks my heart too." I really felt like God was crying. Weirdest thing. I just wished I could get Him a tissue or something so He wouldn't get me so wet.

I shivered in the cold. The drops continued to sting my skin and flood my eyes. My socks were wet and mud flung up the back of my legs with each step. But there was something incredibly peaceful about knowing that God sees the brokenness and is moved by it. And there was also something about the way the rain washed the earth--like a cleansing rain to wash the brokenness away. Like springs of water would be in the desert. And I felt the Lord washing over me, reminding me, "Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers" (Psalm 1:1-3). I felt the Lord reminding me that my life is His, that His ways are higher than mine and are PERFECT and beautiful and joyous. I knew He was reassuring me that I wasn't going to miss His best for me.

When I got home I was stirred to read the one recorded time in Scripture where God Himself cried. I LOVE the story. Check it out in John 11. Pretty much what happens is Jesus's friend Lazarus dies. He's been dead for 4 days when Jesus gets there. And He is told at least twice, "Man, what the mess?! If you would have gotten here 4 days ago this would have never happened! Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man kept this man from dying?!"

Jesus is lead to Lazarus's tomb, and I guess it suddenly hits him that his friend is gone. Dead. In the grave. And He weeps. Right there along with everyone else, He weeps.

Crazy story really--because His first words to them when He arrived were, "Your brother will rise again." I mean, He knew the grand finale. But there was something in Him that drove Him to tears even knowing that everything was going to be awesome in the end. He loved His friend. And, well, His friend was dead. So He wept. The sisters wept. The family mourned. And Jesus did too.

But not for too long I guess because before we know it Lazarus is up and walking and needing some new clothes lest he embarrass himself and everyone else for that matter.

And in a sense this is exactly what happened to me today--I felt the rain as tears of the Lord. And suddenly the clouds cleared and the sun even peaked out. I was soaked to the core but full of joy knowing that we serve a God who sees and is not the least bit absent from our pain, a God who weeps with those who weep, a God who is more than able to cause life to spring up in the dead, a God who mends the breech and breaks every fetter, a God who is our very own Resurrection and Life.

I am confident that ultimately there will be a place where there are no more tears and no more pain. There will be a place were all is made new.

And the Lord said,

"Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

The LORD of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Selah

(Psalm 46:10-11)

-J

Confessions.

I am terrified of wasting my life.

There--I said it.

Here's the thing. I've spent most of the last 11 years of my young life trying to find my place in this world, trying to do something that will count. Something that will change lives for eternity. Something that will bring unchanging hope and peace to the darkest corners of the world. I've dreamt about it. I've tossed and turned in my bed many sleepless nights wondering how on earth my life can change someone else's.

One thing has lead to another and here I am today in my third year of med school, arriving rather firmly and affirmedly at a decision to pursue OB/GYN. I love OB/GYN and have for a long time. I love the primary care, the surgery, the babies, the ladies, the whole nacho.

And while my passion to live a life that affects change and inspires hope in the lives of others around the globe has remained unchanged, let's not lie--my life for the past 4 years has been all about none other than me, me, me, and well, me. How will I get into med school? Where will I go to med school? How will I survive med school? How will I make the grades? Where will I go to residency? Will I get to go where I want to go? How much longer do I have to stay at this dreary hospital today? I take call how often?! When do I get to nap?! Do I really have to do that?! And I guess, partly it has to be this way--I do need to study. I do need to work. And, well, the good Lord knows, I do need some sleep from time to time too. And it would also be nice to make sure I have some plan as to what I'm doing when I graduate next year.

(Geez, if I had that many new I's all the blind folk in Texas would be able to see by next week.)

However, I feel rather self-absorbed lately thinking and planning and scheming and trying my best to sell myself to attendings to make the grade and get favorable evaluations. And I often have to stop and recollect and ask myself why I really do all this anyhow. What was that thing about changing the world again? And is that even possible? And will I be old and grey and disillusioned once I am finally trained to do all this stuff? Oh, and do I have to go there ALONE? O geez... A whole 'nother fear for a whole 'nother blog!

But I have these friends who, and read blogs about and hear of folks, just normal folks like me, who are doing INCREDIBLE things right now to reach the nations with clean water and save women from human trafficking and help starving kids learn how to grow crops for whole villages and do just about anything to suffer with the suffering and shed any amount of the light of hope possible into dark, dark places.

My heart about beats out of my chest when I read of it.

And I wonder if my life will ever amount to anything....

I wonder if I will ever finish all this doctor-making stuff, first of all!

Then, I wonder when it's all said and done, if I will bite into the American "dream" and find myself in 10 years buying a new house and driving a new car and living in the suburbs sending a few dollars over every now and again so I can feel good about myself and feel like I am helping out. I wonder if I will find myself living the doctor high life and never having done anything that really matters.

I wonder if I will get too chicken to ever make the wild, crazy, risky decision to just GO. To drop what the world has convinced me I "deserve" and go somewhere dark and bleak and miserable and hard and uncomfortable and joyous and beautiful.

I wonder if I will be bold enough to follow those dreams that often haunt me at night and that come to life when I read of others willing to give their lives for something beyond themselves.

So, in short, I am afraid of wasting my life. Of settling for less. Of becoming numb to suffering around the world and not daring to do something about it. Of getting tired and jaded and of feeling as if I deserve comforts and trinkets and treasures.

I am afraid of forfeiting all my dreams and what I've worked so hard to obtain only for an empty box of perishable goods.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer says it like this in "The Cost of Discipleship"--

Costly Grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will gladly go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciples leaves his nets and follows him. Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life.

May my heart not be lured so much toward the world and all its trimmings and trappings, but to the grace which costs me my life that I may find my only true life!


-J

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."

-Jim Elliot, missionary and matryr

Palm Reading

The scene: Day 1 of my new internal medicine rotation with my new team and new attending nervously beginning my first presentation of a patient I just met a few minutes ago.

Me: Ms. So-and-So is a 20 year old on hospital day number 3 admitted for end stage renal disease and severe anemia. She is--

Attending: (Dramatic stopping gesture.) Woah. Woah. (Looking to my team.) What have we got here?

(Long, awkward pause.)

Me: (Trembling quietly, fearing I have said something wrong in just the first sentence of my presentation.)

Attending: (Looking back at me.) Let me see your hands, young lady.

Me: (Timidly tucking my notes under my arms and stretching out my hands.)

Attending: Turn them over!

Me: (Timidly allowing him to examine my hands.)

Attending: I knew it all along!

Me: (Flushed, fluttered, and terrified of my attending's palm reading skills.)

Attending: (Looking back at the team with a eureka sparkle in his eye.) I knew it! We have ourselves an OB/GYN!




Guess there's no escaping the OB/GYN in me!

-J