You get up before dawn while your husband still sleeps. You stretch. Coffee. Shower. Put on scrubs. Eat something. Anything. Drive. Park. Step away from your normal. Leave it all behind.
Walk through those doors.
What day is it? It doesn’t matter now. Not inside those doors. Today just became “Everyday”. Your beautiful alternate reality.
Things are always changing here inside these doors, yet somehow they remain the same. The patients and their problems come and go, yet the essence of the job remains. Help people. Heal the sick. Ease their pain. Soothe their brokenness. Keep them safe. Teach them to breathe. Just breathe. Lend them strength. Point them to hope.
All day. Every, single day.
This weekend I’ll step into this “Everydayness” while the rest of my world is at home, existing without me in it. Even after all these years, this is still foreign for me. I have always been the one here waiting for them to come home to me. Such a bizarre reversal.
I will feel this strangeness when I walk out to my car in the morning. I will feel it when I start backing down the driveway. I will feel it when I take that final glance behind me while pulling away. I will feel torn. I’ll feel the pull of what I’m leaving behind. My home. My family. My church. Time with my people. My sweet, sweet people.
But as the car moves forward, God reminds me that my place this weekend is within the walls of that beautiful alternate reality. My second “home”. With my second “family”.
Step through those doors, Debi.
Pierce that perpetual “Everydayness” with His hope.
Bring the church INSIDE.
Straight to His people.
And now they’re my people, as well.
My sweet, sweet people.
What an honor.
Have a great weekend and thanks for growing with me. ❤
“And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)