As a nurse, when I step onto that unit in the morning, I know without the slightest bit of doubt that there will be people looking at me that day. Actually, it’s more than that. They won’t just be looking “at” me, they’re going to be looking “to” me, as well. All day long.
This thought came to me as I was waking up this morning after my last two days at the hospital. It was actually a pretty great weekend, but even good days are difficult days in bedside nursing. Even good days bring so much stress, so much pain, such high expectations.
All those “plates” … they absolutely must be kept spinning. Believe me, it’ll make you dizzy. The countless phone calls, the deadlines, the constant interruptions. All those unexpecteds. So many things happening at once – so very much to remember. Plus the weight of knowing how serious a simple mistake can be … it’s truly indescribable. These pressures just keep building all day.
Until suddenly … it’s just over. Wow. Time to walk away and go home.
It’s hard for me to instantly shake all that off when I clock out. I’ve learned that my mind has to take the time to think about it in order to “put it away” and move on. I have to process everything somewhat in order to heal. This is what keeps me wanting to go back.
So what I was thinking about this morning is that through all of that chaos, there are people waiting for me. Not tasks. People. I can see all of their faces from this weekend. Patients, families, visitors … all beautiful in their own way. All dealing with so much.
Lying there in my bed this morning, I could still see how they actually study my face … they search my eyes as we speak.
They’re looking for answers. Every one of them. Hoping for just a hint. They want relief … from myriads of different things. They’re looking to me for help. They’re looking to me for hope.
Yes … even if it’s a mere whisper … they’re all looking for hope.
Lord, let them see my hope.
So when my achey joints and awesome bedhead finally got up this morning, the only place to go was outside to my porch. I’m so thankful for my private little morning spot. No one can see me here. That’s what I need right now. Nobody looking at me. At least for a little while.
Here I can sit in silence. Everything is still. Just still. No hurrying. No ringing phones. Not a single beep. No alarms.
Nothing but peace.
Yes, this is exactly what I need today. Healing from all that stress. Healing from all the pain. Healing from being so needed. Healing from all the responsibility.
I whispered a giant “thank you” to God that I get to go out there and take care of all those wonderful people. What an honor. And then I said a second one that I don’t have to go do it today.
Today I need rest. Today I need healing.
And this is how He gives it to me. Nobody is looking at me today except for the One whose face constantly shines through any chaos around me. And even if I may enjoy this moment of feeling invisible, I’m comforted that He’s always, always right here with me. The Savior of this world promises to never turn his face away from me. He’ll never leave, never forsake me. Never. No matter what. I just love that.
And this is what truly heals me: it’s that hope. It soothes all my aches, strengthens my weariness, and binds back together any wounds from dealing with this world.
My prayer today is that you also know this hope. No matter what you may face, or who may be looking “to” you today, take some time to ponder it through his eyes of hope. This is what will heal you from your weariness. This is what will strengthen you to keep going back in there and facing it all over again. Just lean hard into that hope and find some rest there, my friends.
Thanks for growing with me. ❤
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)
I found this acoustic version of “Your Love Never Fails” by Jesus Culture. I love this song, but the rawness of this particular version really speaks to me today, soothing my need for healing. Anyways, give it a listen … I pray God will use the lyrics to heal your hope, like they’re currently healing mine.
2 thoughts on “When nobody’s looking at you today.”
What an eye-opener! As one who spends a fair amount of time in hospitals, I have often noticed that look you are describing in the eyes of the one I am ministering to (and often the family too) when a nurse walks into the room. I have seen it, but never through your eyes. Thank you for sharing this; it can only make me more patient with the hospital staff from here on.
Blessings on your continued work,
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Thank you, Chuck – it’s a beautiful thing to have people rely on you that way, but it’s also a beautiful thing to have a rest from it, as well. I’m sure you must also feel this in the ministry. Praise be to God for allowing us to know and rest in His hope as he allows moments of healing!
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