Bearing Fruit

This month I have been reading and digesting the book Radical by David Platt. It is an excellent read that has challenged me to examine my faith in the context of the American culture. Platt examines the effect on the “American Dream” on the American church and whether this concept has hindered our effectiveness in living biblically. Obviously, he believes it has, but my review of his book is not the point of this post.

The most rewarding part of reading Platt has been the opportunity I’ve had to discuss the work with several young Christians in Houston at a biweekly “summer book club” that for right now functions more like a community group as we allow the book to guide our discussion but somehow we always get off track on little tangents.

This week, one of my friends brought up that sometimes, even when he feels he is doing the right things God commanded us to do, he feels conflicted. Sometimes he feels as though he can’t tell whether he is walking in the flesh or walking in the Spirit. He can’t tell if pride in doing good works is driving him or the Spirit is guiding him. So he posed this question, “How do we know when we are walking in the Spirit?”

What a question! My response was this, “Well, doesn’t Scripture say that those who have the Holy Spirit will bear fruit?”

“Right,” he said. “But does it mean by bear fruit?”

Another great question! And so applicable to the book we are reading! Platt examines very closely the idea of church growth and how we go about it. Is it all about the numbers? Is church membership growth equivalent to “bearing fruit”? I would submit that of course the Lord will continue to add to the number of His people in His time, and His church will continue to grow globally and locally, and yes, this is part of the fruit we bear. But is this all God calls for?

Scripture tells us very clearly what walking in the Spirit looks like, and it even tells us specifically what “fruit” we are told to bear! Galatians 5:16-25 gives us a great description of this fruit. Read it really quickly! First Paul says, “But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh.” He goes on to tell us what the flesh desires (more on that in later posts). Then he tells us what the fruit of the Spirit are: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Now this text used to be just a “Sunday School song” for me: i.e., didn’t really mean much to me, but my Sunday School teachers would think I was really smart if I had it memorized. Thank goodness that I memorized it though, because now it has really hit home! So often we go about praying, reading God’s word, living in community, and following God’s commands and forget what the end goal is. The end goal is not to simply check these boxes off on these spiritual discipline checklists daily (even though it may require some faithfulness and self-control).  The end goal of all of the disciplines we are taught in the church is to develop the fruits of the Spirit! If we are not developing these characteristics in our lives, we have left the Spirit out of our discipline and are not being fruitful. So, from now on, I am going to try to examine myself based on these characteristics! This way, reading Scripture will no longer be examined by the number of days I spent reading in a week, but did I find JOY in reading Scripture every day. Giving to those in my community will not be measured on how much I gave, but how LOVING and KIND I was in giving it. I think you get the idea. My next project here will be blogging about each of these fruits and what the Lord is teaching me about them. I hope you enjoy!

 

Why Medicine?

It cannot be possible that I am old enough to have finished my first clinical rotation of medical school. It feels like just yesterday I was working through Organic Chemistry II thinking, “Eventually, this will all pay off.” But in a blink, it’s true. I’ve been called “Doc” on accident by patients, I’ve taken care of people on the brink of death, and I’ve had to help break the news to a patient that they have a new chronic disease that will affect their life forever. In the back of my mind, in each of these situations, I’ve thought, “Certainly, this is not how it was meant to be.”

As many of you know, my faith in Christ is what guided my path to get to this spot. There’s no way I could have faced the Basic Science years without His grace in allowing me to plug on through the hours of studying and the stressful exam weeks. Many of you probably felt that I disappeared for that year and a half, and I probably did. I questioned during that year whether medical school was for me. Transitioning from a sorority house in Stillwater to Houston where I knew NO ONE, was…complicated. But by the grace of God, I’ve experienced the depth of loneliness and been blessed by some wonderful new friendships. Finally, I’ve made it through the basic science years to rotations and started to feel “useful” (I use the term lightly).

I thought I would learn a whole lot about medicine in the last three months. I thought right. I’ve learned so much medicine in the last three months: how to handle congestive heart failure, how to do an arterial blood gas, how to diagnose and treat electrolyte abrnormalities, the altered mental status workup, the guidelines for HIV prophylaxis, and sickle cell crisis management to name a few. However, I am fairly surprised to say how much I have learned about the state of our feebleness, how utterly broken the human condition is.

In Scripture, the story of creation tells us that God looked at all He created and said, “It is good” and when He looked at humans He said, “It is very good.” Sometimes I think He said it like this, “Dang, look how good they look!” Theologians often describe this use of the word “good’ as “complete”, “perfect”, or “as it should be”. And yet, a little while later we hear the story of man’s first sin which broke this “goodness” and brought death into the world. In short, because our sin the world was no longer “as it should have been” when God created it. We could stop here, but the story continues. It is God’s great redemptive story, that can be read elsewhere. He is using this world to continue to change things back to “how they should have been”.

Everyday, I see the results of this brokenness in the hospital. People really are hurting. The “great equalizer” is constantly around the corner. Even patients who have relatively benign conditions which will resolve with some IV antibiotics ask is “Doc, am I going to die from this?” And yet even in this brokenness, there is great happiness. Even in this brokenness, there are moments of great honesty, and there are moments of healing!

To be honest, this is medicine to me. No, I don’t believe medicine in itself is holy as many physicians portray it to be (including Christian physicians). In my mind, only God is holy. However, I do believe by God’s common grace to ALL people, He has created this gift of medicine for us to use to help people who are broken by the results of original sin: sickness, disease, death. It is one of the ways God has given the human race to show His redemptive work in the world, and to point us to the Great Physician. And that’s the reason why over the last three months, I’ve grown to love medicine again. Just thought I’d share.

Matthew 9:12

 

Sleet, A Story, Compassion, and Christmas

I hate sleet. It’s hail, only worse. Hail hurts, but sleet stings. Plus, it’s like Junior Varsity snow. So when I wake up this Christmas Eve morning to the barrage of ice pellets hitting my northern facing window, I thought “Ugh”. Then I turn on the news and it’s 5 minutes of “Hey, health care reform passed in the Senate.” and 3 hours of “We’re all gonna die a slow painful ice death.” So I said to myself, “Self, I’m bored, and I need to do something fun until the snow gets here.” Obviously, blogging was the first thing that came to my mind (since I haven’t done it in months and all). Some come friends, let me tell you a story.

So this happened a few weeks ago on my travels back to Houston after Thanksgiving at home. First of all, as you can see from previous posts, my airplane experiences are generally hilarious. This, unlike most things in my life, has not changed. Don’t worry Southwest, I still love the way I fly. So I walk onto a plane that landed in OKC after flying from Baltimore, and I’m super excited because I’m ticket A25 meaning I’ll be able to pick whatever seat I want right? So you would think. As I walk onto the plane I get to the fifth row where a little boy (I’d say about 7), with Down’s syndrome is sitting by himself without parental supervision with a necklace around his neck indicating he is traveling by himself. He asks the grandma in front of me to sit by him, and obviously, I think, if I pass up the empty seat next to this kid, I am nothing but a jerk. So I sit, breathe, and mentally prepare myself for our hour long journey.

In short, this journey consisted of:

1) an unregulated game of rock, paper, scissors where scissors always wins and the punishment for being a loser is two punches on the wrist, (note: I lost every game)

2) using my stethoscope to listen to the hearts of the bags of peanuts we received

3) a fight with the flight attendants about putting the tray table upright.

4) screaming curse words for all the passengers to hear

5) nursing myself from slapping wounds (5 of them)

6) wrestling as a preventative measure to the hair-pulling that was occurring

7) and losing my ice from my little plastic cup full of Coke because he wanted to put is hand in there, grab the ice, and eat it.

All told it was an ADVENTURE, but one I wouldn’t take back. This little guy may have ummm…tortured me, but it was an hour of my life, and I’m pretty sure based on my conversations with him, he had some reasons for “acting out”. Oddly enough, instead of having feelings of anger for the boy, I was overcome with a sense of compassion. I think it taught me an important lesson that I hope will stay with me.

This Christmas Eve, there are a lot of things happening in our world that I simply don’t agree with. In fact, some of these things make me well up with anger and step on my soap box. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes anger is a useful emotion. It is often what makes us move our feet and make things happen. It is often what makes us make things better in the world. However, sometimes, I believe my anger is misplaced. Instead of being angry with the sin like greed, overconfidence, and jealousy that often clouds my mind, I find myself turning my anger towards our institutions, our leaders, and our victimizing culture. It is often in those times, I need to remember the virtue of compassion.

Compassion breaks down barriers of pride, cuts into our hearts, convicts us of sin, and often helps us listen to each other better. Interestingly, compassion helps us to correctly direct our anger toward those things that cause misguided thinking. Compassion helps us to understand each other and drives us to keep trying after you’ve been slapped across the face. This is the same compassion that drove a little baby boy to come down here and heal the sick, talk to prostitutes, feed the poor, turn over tables, correct the Pharisees, and die for the same people who flogged him. Perfect compassion just might be a Christmas miracle.

My Closet Is My Everest

I have never been, nor will I probably ever be a fan of organizing, cleaning, or throwing stuff away unless it involves school supplies and notebooks. Therefore, for years, I have tried to convince myself that the mess I had made of my closet is simply the result of the certain phobias I have including, but of course not limited to:

1) Throwing something away that is important to me now.

2) Throwing something away that is not important to me now, but will someday hold significant sentimental value. (Ex. a love note I received from a 2nd grade crush would be thrown away before we eventually got married.)

3) Finding something scary.

However, recent events have instead forced me to get over myself. For the past two weeks, I’ve been cleaning out my death trap of a closet. Clutter? Gone. Notes from camp that smell because they got wet somehow? Gone. My J Brizzle board from basketball with rebound stickers galore? Gone. A picture of Nirja Parekh with a photoshopped picture of Kenny G’s head in a cowboy frame? Gone. (Regrettably and tearfully. But still…gone.) Nascar mug? Gone. (After thinking…huh?) Cigars a roommate hid in my underwear drawer at college as a joke, that somehow ended up hidden in my real underwear drawer at home and looking semi-shady? Gone. (Unsmoked and untouched. Never fear, Mom.) Dainty foot cream? Gone. Senior Prom dress? Gone. Kacey Gilpin’s speech outlines from Intro to Speech? Gone, without asking her permission. A Pittsburgh Penguin puck? Gone. A baseball card signed by the one and only Rusty Greer. Didn’t make the Hall of Fame, so, gone. Shoes that I had no reason keeping? Gone. A DVD collection of all of Johnny Carson’s Late Night Episodes? Still here, partly in honor of Ed McMahon’s recent passing, but mostly because I’ve loved me some Carsey since I was 3.

After sweat, a sore back, lost sleep, and plenty of Michael Jackson news/specials/memorials/music videos emmenating from my TV in the background, I can proudly say, I will have reached the summit of my proverbial climb tomorrow. I will come out of the closet (almost retyped that phrase, but it was too funny), as a straight woman (phrase inserted upon editing), with my head held high after conquering my Mt. Everest. Praise the King of Pop.

However, I can’t say it’s been all bad. It’s been fun to look through notes from friends, to laugh at graduation gifts from high school, and to find journals from years past. Honestly, it’s given me some nice little closure on this 22 year long life and has allowed me to think about the next step. What do I really need? What do I just keep to puff up my pride (please see J Brizzle board)? What do I keep to feel secure? Obviously, there are treasured memories to keep, and Precious Moments caricatures that I have to keep to give to my kids as family heirlooms, but if I keep everything from my past, there wont be enough room for the full experiences ahead in my future. So, my suggestion for the closet and for life? Examine everything. Take what you need. Give away what you don’t need but is still useful. Throw away the rest. Treasure the good stuff. And look toward the future. Oh, and remember the scary stuff you might find is only there because you put it there.

Airplanes

Airplanes are funny creatures. It seems that  every time you get into one, the plane takes on a life of it’s own. Two plane rides today. Two very different experiences.

First: Southwest Airlines flight to Baltimore. I was the unlucky Southwest traveler, who while getting an “A” group boarding card had to sit in a middle seat. I lift my fist to curse you direct flights. So I have a seat next to a circa The Last Ice Age man who intermittently says inaudible words to himself, and a young strapping 20 year old who is oh so attractively drooling on the tray table that he did not sit upright upon approach for landing. He also left his Rolling Stone in the empty middle seat. I, of course, accidentally sat on it, which made for awkward conversation with the drowsy young man when he woke up looking for his magazine. I admit it. When I saw the Rolling Stone, I tried to be cool and feminine and pull out a Vogue that my parents bought me for V-Day. Little did he know, I was only reading it for the cover story about Blake Lively and Gossip Girl. (Returning March 16th. How long must I wait Oh Lord?) Then…I too fell asleep. When I woke up, completely confused about how much time there was left on the plane, the Ice Age was gone. He was gone for a good 30 minutes after my cat nap. I tried to figure out if he had moved in an effort to make sure I hadn’t snored obnoxiously. No. He was just in the back…standing by the lavatory, mumbling to himself. Drooler was still drooling. Worst part about my catnap was missing the complimentary soft drink and peanuts.When we got off, I couldn’t get my coat on, and both Ice Age and Drooler tried to help me get it on. Chivalry is not dead. But…the lining in my coat is torn, so I put it on wrong and readjust later. So much for chivalry.

I then boarded my plane to RDU and met an interesting 8-year-old Kayla. Kayla’s mom decided to sit her in the middle seat between me and a 26 year old ex-airforce guy. Mommy went in the middle seat across the aisle. Now, I think I probably should have traded seats with her, but the window and aisle seater across the way looked much similar to the above experience, and who in their right mind would want to put themselves through that again? So I sat by Kayla, helped her get adjusted, and then proceeded to watch her flirt with the ex-Maverick better than I probably EVER WILL. It was absolutely ridiculous. “Help me with this Sudoku!” “Where did you go to college?” “What was their mascot?” “Want to play with my Operation pen? Wink Wink.” Barf me. When I realized I wasn’t the child’s favorite person on the plane, I started reading The Kite Runner (review to come), and tried to tune out what was going on around me. My concentration was broken when Kayla asked, “So…do they card on this plane? My mom lost her driver’s license, so she doesn’t like when they card.” Josh, my little brother, is 11 with a 12th-grade-reading level, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what that means. She then said, “I’m just going to ask for a Bloody Mary and see what they say.” At this point, the best word to describe my innermost feelings would have to be….befuddled. I laughed to keep my jaw from dropping. Of course, then I started encouraging the behavior along with ex-Maverick, because…that’s funny. She then read us the drink specials in back of the in-flight magazine. Thank the Lord the flight was only 45 minutes, or I’m pretty sure my girl Kayla would have been rearin’ to go after her Bloody Marys…

Thank you Southwest Airlines. I love the way I fly.

Since I’ve Been Gone

After leaving the blogging world for approximately a year and half, I feel that it is time for me to return. Perhaps, more precisely, I now have time to return. Sophomore and Junior years of college are over, and now I am coasting toward the light at the end of the undergraduate tunnel. I have found myself short on responsibility, long on time, and desperately needing a new toy/creative outlet to fill all of my time with. I’ve tried Twitter, but honestly, it gets annoying. So, wordpress.com I ask you to please help me keep my brain from rotting before I hit medical school and to allow me to write all of my not so deep or coherent thoughts to you and the rest of the world as if anyone actually cared.

Since I’ve been gone many things have happened which may or may not be of interest to you my friends:

1) I took my first trip across the pond after receiving my first passport from our lovely State Department. Unfortunately, blogging was not something I filled my time with, but if you’re lucky, I will post some of my emails I sent to friends during my time in England.

2) Jolie went to Washington. While it sounds glorious, in all actuality, I answered phones and helped an office run smoothly. I had a great time on the hill meeting fellow interns, getting to know staff, turning 21, dealing with a landlord regarding a rotting roof, and walking in the places that people far older and important than me have walked. Again, re-posted e-mails are a possibility until I am able to come up with something creative to write about.

3) I decided on themes of books that I want to write someday. I will not be sharing these with you at all, because the ideas are mine (or mine along with friends) and I want to surprise the rest of you whenever they come out.

4) I got in to medical school. Awesome, but most of you don’t care.

5) I have developed an unhealthy obsession with shows that numb my mind. LOST is the greatest sci-fi show ever invented. It numbs my mind, because honestly, my mind starts questioning my existence inside this world and causes me to ask “when am I?” If you haven’t started watching it, you should make your way over to the nearest video rental destination and pull season one off the shelf. You’ll probably have dreams about how to get the Oceanic 6 back to the island while simultaneously being the person that helps Kate realize she wants to be with Jack forever too. (Yes, the “too” implies that I have had these dreams.) Secondly, I have developed a completely unhealthy obsession with Gossip Girl. A show that I will be the first to admit is below me, but I simply can’t turn my head away. The show has caused me to look up spoilers (eonline.com, gossipgirlinsider.com). I have also been known to say, “I wish Blair Waldorf was my best friend.” It is my greatest guilty pleasure in life, and for those of you who are disappointed, I am truly sorry. Please try not to judge me and join me sometime. Posts on these two shows are for sure to come.

6) I started dating someone who is awesome. Just kidding. Please see #5 for two reasons that this is obviously not true.

I think that pretty much updates you. More to come, but I figure this is a pretty good introduction to my second try at the good ‘ole blog.