Prodigal Medic....

So this week has been - wait, this MONTH - has been the proverbial roller coaster, without a doubt. This weekend, since Friday morning at about 9 am has been no exception. At that time, I was minding my own business when the insides of me revolted, for no good reason, and started playing double-dutch jump rope with my stomach. If this has ever happened to you, you know that soon after this reeling and spinning gets underway, the force of your stomach going thwap-thwap as it bounces off your diaphragm and spleen soon causes the forcible exit of all stomach contents. I happened to be outside at the time, but fortunately for me (and I’m sure others appreciated it as well), not in public. I spent about 40 minutes in pre-game nausea, doubled-over, thinking I either want to vomit or die. I’m still here though, right? That session left me sore all over. And it radically increased the pain in my neck and back and really soured my mood. I mean, who can be in a good mood at a time like that? This cycle of double-dutch and what followed continued for the next twenty four hours. Blah. So glad THAT’S done!

As if that weren’t enough, I had written a blog on Thursday night, I think it was. I had a sinking feeling on Friday though, that while it was written about no one who might read it here, that some assumed that it was about them. Unfortunately, that’s what happens when you have to change people’s names to protect the innocent or guilty, right? Or, as in this case, you speak hypothetically and dont say so. After all, it was a blog about loneliness and the desire to be with someone, I just need to find that someone who is in a place to be with me. And I guess in that state, I see more walls than potential in relationships. So there was that. 

And then, more drama and a stand for my convictions on Saturday that I’m sure alienated yet someone else. 

The final kicker was Sunday, when my bitter mood, combined with a lingering game of hop-scotch inside me (at least the jump rope went away), was a long drawn out conversation with yet a different friend about lifestyle and choices and the meaning of friendship and reputation and things like that. It was only long and drawn out because I made it that way, fighting for what I believe is right, knowing in my heart that they will not see things that way now, maybe not ever. 

In the time my world wasnt spinning this weekend, or I was apparently leaving a swath of carnage and destruction in the lives of people I care about, most as unexpected casualties. I pretty much feel horrible about that. Nope. In fact, I do. I feel horrible that I might have hurt these people. 

On a different, yet, related subject, my nightstand is currently filled with books I’m reading. And I usually pick up at least all of them and read a chapter a day. A book on modern day slavery, Nelson Mandela’s autobiography, a book called "Lone Survivor" about the incredible courage and selfless sacrifice of a team of Navy SEALs, my Bible, and my iPod which has Martin Luther King’s sermons on it that I’ve been listening to. 

To top it off, I watched one of my favorite movies Sunday too, "Tears of the Sun." For those that haven’t seen it, its about a team of Navy SEALs faced with the hard decisions to make morally and ethically right decisions in the face of great odds and significant danger.

And this is what I was reminded of so much this last night: Right living takes great courage and sacrifice, no matter what the situation. I’ve noticed that those that society truly holds in respect (not just on a pedastel, ’cause Brittany Spears could be on a pedastal of sorts) are people who have made great sacrifice for others. Throughout history, our heros often die, but die for causes bigger than themselves. 

I think it is all too easy to just focus on ourselves and what feels good in the moment. There is a constant and definite draw to do that in most all of us, I think. I’ve fallen to that siren’s song before. I’ve even disguised it in apparently noble things, like my work or ministry. Far more often, its a base and carnal physical sensation I’ve sought, either through alcohol or relationships. But always, and usually later and with the gift of retrospect, I find myself looking back and regretting those moments. 

What I have never regretted was being about something greater than myself for the right reasons. I’ve never regretted really caring about someone who was hurting. I’ve never regretted risking my life or health to help those in dire need. I’ve never regretted being one of those people seeking to bring hope like Jesus brought me to those dying of thirst and lack of hope. 

All these books about people risking so much, risking thier lives every day to change the world is inspiring. These are stories of a rebel in South Africa bringing down a system of hatred, men dying to save thier brothers, a man knowing that it would cost him his life to end segregation here in this country, and another rebellious and homeless rabbi who was killed because he questioned the powers that be and said "there is something more" and killed because of love. 

It makes me understand that in the day-to-day decisions, its more about trusting that I am a part of something bigger than myself. I know God works and is working and doing crazy, mighty God-things in the hearts of my friends. I know that my only call is to live with as much courage and honor and sacrificail love as I can. I know that when things get hard with my friends, I need to hold the course of friendship, letting loose my grip or my presense when asked but never letting go. I know I need to hold fast to hope and love for these friends. I know I need to love inspite of sharp words. I know that I need to spend more time sitting and praying for people than I do. I need to spend more time reaching out to them in ways that make people feel loved and respected, not in ways I think I would want to be loved and respected and projecting that onto them. I know that I need to temper with wisdom how I love. I dont want to get caught up in the fears and things that my friends go through. I want to be the strong when when I need to. I want to show my heart and weakness when I need help. 

I know that I need to "do the right thing" all the time, regardless.

I dont think that the world can survive with people only looking out for themselves or thier own pleasure. I know my limitations, I know my tribe of people is dealing with some really heavy stuff. I respect the courage of those facing depression and fear, of those risking thier lives daily in public service or the military, and those that risk getting their hands, feet and hearts dirty by sitting with the lost and hurting of this world. I respect new friends and old, as each holds a treasure and a lesson for me to share and learn from. These are the noble one’s on this earth. 

These are the one’s that I want to be like, loving, with fear, trembling and trepidation. I want to be the one to sit in these places, doing the right thing for these people. I know that we are all tragically flawed characters. None is perfect. I am chief of the imperfect, without a doubt. I hope that my life makes a difference. I hope my death, when it happens, means something. I hope that if someone were to make my life a story, that it would be noble, full of conflict and courage, both internal and external, but a story of love and loyalty and sacrifice. 

For those that I hurt this week, through misunderstandings in my writing or words, I’m sorry. For those I’ve stood my ground with, I hope you understand why I did, and why I wouldn’t compromise.

I just want to do it right.

(On a completely unrelated issue, I sat down with my Mom tonight and watched "Everything is Spiritual" by Rob Bell. If you haven’t seen it, check it out. I’d seen it before, but she never had. And even her traditional, religious, "I like things the way they are" kind of faith which is so simple and not over-thought like mine, "got it" when she watched this. SO amazing to see her growing in her relationship with Jesus!)