I have lost track of the number of times "I can't. I just can't." made it past my lips this past week; probably an umpteenth or something along the lines of a gazillion. It was said in almost pure disbelief and fascination rather than frustration or a refusal to continue. A single patient, who I have been working with... or should I say attempting to work with, for the past year was the subject receiving this disbelief and fascination. This patient had been the recipient of not only a second chance, but was going on approximately his 27th chance. I had brought my conundrum to my partner at one point, all out of my own ideas on how to help. He naively asked if the patient actually wanted the surgery, and if so to use that as motivation for the patient. A tactic I had previously employed for chances 7 through 26 in various methods and approaches, all unsuccessfully. Yes, the patient indeed wanted the surgery. But somehow, no amount of coaching, coaxing, or spoon-feeding, could get the patient to 1) show up or 2) actually show up prepared or 3) actually show up prepared, and approved. I was at my wits end, and not knowing what more I could possibly do to help the guy. And therefore, simply speechless, "I can't. I just can't." was about all I could muster.
It honestly made me appreciate just how many chances Jesus gives me. How many times he's had to spell it out for me, or even physically move my feet for me to get me to move. Does he shake his head in disbelief at my helplessness and dependency too?
I was able to make a quick trip out to the East Coast last weekend for the wedding of Emily Walder and Mike Bahler. Congratulations to them. I went a day early to visit up in Vermont with Kevin & Cheryl Ryan.
No comments:
Post a Comment