Psalms 27, A Doctor's Lifeline in Covid

 

In the Lord of the Rings, Fellowship of the Ring, Bilbo Baggins, an exceptionally aged hobbit, tells his dear friend Gandalf the wizard, “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.  I need a holiday; a very long holiday.”  Sigh.  Bilbo, my 4 foot tall fairytale friend,  I definitely feel you.  After 7 months of working in healthcare during a viral pandemic which has steadily crept into every facet of life, I find myself feeling exactly like that, thin; pressed to the complete outer edges of my abilities and coping strategies in just about each of the battle fronts of my life.  In fact, even describing the facets and complexities of my life as battle fronts is likely representative of the very nature of how worn I feel.  

This week as I was reading and praying through Psalms 27 God helped me see more clearly the nature of my lament these last months.  He also attended to my heart showing me how to continue to carry on through the continued quagmire, which shows no signs of easing.  “Teach me your way, O LORD, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies.  Give me not up to the will of my adversaries; for false witnesses have risen against me and they breathe out violence….though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, yet will I be confident.”  (v3, 11-12)  As I read I prayed, “God, why does this resonate within me?  Why do I feel as if there is a war around me?  I feel like my whole life and motives are being impugned.  Give me sight so that I can understand the torrent in my heart.”  And God was faithful, as He has always been.

A few weeks ago I left early to head to work, and as I ascended up the driveway in all wheel drive, my studded tires were slipping.  Really?  Did I just experience that?  As I turned onto our country road it was immediately clear that the roads that appeared wet, were actually black ice, and I had almost no steering control.   As I crept along in the pitch black my mind changed gears from getting to work, to getting turned around and back home.  My 7 mile round trip lasted 30 harrowing minutes, and thankfully I narrowly avoided a trip in the ditch.  Shaking on the couch for the next 2 hours I began to doubt that the road had really been ice.  The MT road condition map was still reporting wet roads only.  Maybe I was just being overly sensitive?  It wasn’t until a photo was posted of a semi jackknifed across the ice sheeted road, I finally thought, “okay, maybe it was that bad.”    And yesterday it hit me, I am working in healthcare, experiencing the reality of people dying, a full hospital and clinic, lives changed by a new virus, and I am sure that Covid is a true problem.  We as a family live in a restricted way to protect my parents and grandma and hopefully prevent increased spread of that little beast to others in the community.  But juxtaposed to that reality is a whole contingent of society carrying on as if nothing has changed.  Many are vocally defiant and argumentative, and claim that scientists and politicians are just using this to control people’s lives.  Some days I find myself feeling uncertain of what I am actually experiencing, just like I did on that black ice.  The response of many has caused me to falter in confidence, which is completely disorienting to this science girl who has devoted her life to data and research driven guidelines in order to help other humans.     

Professionally I have spent the last 20 years dedicated to a world filled with healers and helpers;  co-labored alongside fellow humans from vastly diverse backgrounds who have bound themselves to a singular oath: “First, DO NO HARM….” These are words we spoke and vowed as we began to care for patients.  Most of us have given up the majority of our youthful years while our peers enjoyed vibrant social lives and early starts to their careers.  We spent countless hours away in a library corner or alone in our apartments studying and learning how to care for the dignity and health of the human body.   We were taught how examining  another human is a sacred honor; and that the confessions of human frailty we would listen to were to be carried with the utmost respect, care and secrecy.  Our families have gone without us for innumerable milestones, while we have worked to care for those precious souls who have entrusted their bodies to us.  

Healthcare providers are far from perfect or ideal humans, but on the whole, most of us just want to use the skills and knowledge we have to make the human experience in this life better.   My professional world is filled with some of the most compassionate humans I can imagine.  And we are currently working under a load that I admit I didn’t know was actually possible.  Each day feels like a proverbial Monday, or how the beginning of inpatient medicine rotations felt, except this rotation doesn’t have a known completion date.    

Yesterday a dear loved one in my life was in the process of losing his mom to the very virus I am battling against, and his lament from afar ebbed and flowed into the background of my day at work.  I felt lament for him and his sisters.  And as the day carried forward I lost track of calls and questions about Covid exposures, symptoms, and social complications.  Probably ⅔’s of my patients were struggling with extreme emotional stress that is actively eating away at their medical health and well being.   Sifting through the hundred or so results in my inbox included sending people to the ER  due to critical test results and possible Covid complications.  My sweet office staff were strained from the weeks of work we have all been doing; each one pressed to the far reaches of their capabilities.  Phone calls and patient emails continued until well past my last appointment of the day.  Kit had come up to bring me home and from my window I could see him waiting as the minutes drug on while I tried to pull the pieces of a scattered day to a close.  The 25 yards towards him I felt like an eternity as the weight of the day swept over me in a wave of fatigue.  And before anyone feels too worried about me, this has become the standard of each day in medicine in the last months, and my life is only minimally affected compared to some.  I do not question my commitment, or calling, but I can guarantee you, that if you know a healthcare provider their lives are far from stress free right now.

Following a long hot soak in the tub and intense prayer, sleep was a welcome reprieve, which was far too short, as I awoke before the sunrise and read in the news that at several rallies this week physicians have been described as “very smart people” who are getting more money for diagnosing Covid and falsifying death certificates.  Leadership in our country is slandering my colleagues, my friends; slandering me.  In the last 6 months patients have called in and accused me of withholding life saving medications from them as a part of a greater conspiracy that is politically driven.  Social media is filled with pop up Google educated medical professionals who are suddenly full of criticism of those of us who are actually on the front lines fighting this virus.  It feels as if false witness against healthcare workers has become a specialty, and some of its greatest advocates are people from within my own circle of family and friends.  As we witness our patient’s medical burdens from Covid, in addition to our own health risks, people breathe out hatred and distrust, and question our motives.  And some days I drive home and wonder if I’m missing something.  How can both realities be real? 

Adding to my feelings of uncertainty have been the fractures becoming increasingly more evident from within my faith community.  The most important part of my life is my relationship with God, and our closest relationships as a family have come from our church family.  The divisions between followers of Christ has stunned me to silence repeatedly these last 7 months.  A dear friend and counsel in my life said it so wisely, “the Church felt that we had fidelity in Christ, but maybe we’ve really mostly had fidelity in customs and practices.”  The removal of that illusion has been exquisitely painful for me.  Some congregations have refused to follow civil guidelines, meant to quell the spread of Covid, as hospitals fill, ICU’s overflow, and more people become sick.  Churches gathering in unmasked defiance, singing and proclaiming liberty and freedom from oppression, have alienated large swaths of their brothers and sisters who feel marginalized and faith shamed for avoiding unmasked gatherings, including me.  It feels as if “being known by our love” has been eclipsed by “forsaking not the gathering of believers.”   This has caused me to wonder if our proclamation or demonstration of God’s love from the American Church is even half as contagious as Covid is?  I feel as if my own brothers and sisters in Christ are actively contributing to the virus that I am actively trying to treat and prevent, all whilst attempting to claim that the decision to stay home,or mask and distance, is disobedient to God’s commands.  

Sadly our divisions do not stop only at policies regarding Covid.  In a year marked by very public racially intolerant murders, world wide human rights issues and mass migrations, a hotly contested election cycle, economic uncertainty, and societal decline The Church not only disagrees on masking, but most of the issues which are affecting people's lives.  Cancel culture mentality feels as if it is creeping into the minds of believers, as those who are bold enough to speak out and ask questions are labeled heretics while their moral compasses are brought under suspicion and disregard.  This week, John Piper, a man who has given his life to the gospel and loving others, wrote about his lament in the election and he was torched by many from within the Church, who seem to be aligning with politics rather than unity in Christ.  We do not need to agree on every issue, BUT we need to be Christ like in our responses at all times.  The world needs the Church to listen, weep with them, mourn with them, and be slow to speak during this season of Division.  We need to be known by our LOVE and Christlikeness, not political affiliation or nationalism.  When we speak, are we doing so with eternity in our hearts, or just with the intent to win a battle on earth?  Who are we actually fighting?  

As I read Psalms 27 over and over this week it became clear to me that I have not been feeling confident in the middle of this season, and I certainly feel embattled.  And thankfully the cure for that uncertainty was found there as well.   “The Lord is my LIGHT and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”  I don’t ever need to fear another person, or battle, or army.  “The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”  “One thing I have asked of the LORD, one thing I will seek after:  that I may DWELL in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in His temple.”  Folks, since the death of Jesus, the temple of God is within His followers, NOT a building.  He has chosen to make His home in me!  That is ridiculous and fabulous.  My spirit rooted and seated, abiding, dwelling with Holy Spirit!  The ONE thing that will never change, is that He is with me...always.  I can be confident in that, even if the every battlefront in my life is currently at war.  My deepest desire, granted; permanently.  “He will hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble (it’s a lot of days of trouble right now); He will conceal me under the cover of His tent.  He will lift me high upon a rock.”  Notice the war hasn’t gone away; the battle and enemies and slanderous awful are still there.  “My head shall be lifted up, and I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord.”  It will be in the truth of God’s nature, love and plan for my life that I will find balm for my soul and courage for my days.  “Your face, LORD, do I seek...hide not from me.  Cast me not off; forsake me not….”  And here comes the best part, the cure for all that weighs me down:  As I seek His truth, rest in His abiding presence within me, carry my lament to Him....He promises me this.  “I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!”  Even when the land of the living feels like a war, with strife and conflict in every direction I see, abiding with Him will give me peace and surety.  

If you see me in the middle of a week these days I am sure that you will see the evidence of my being spread thin, like old Bilbo.  The silver hair is certainly transforming my crown of brown curls, and I think there may even be a few more lines across my forehead.  I welcome your prayers to join along with mine, that even though outwardly I may be fighting a battle, inwardly I am dwelling with my Creator, abiding and gazing upon the TRUTH of who He is and who He says I am.   If God brings me to your mind, please pray for me, I need it.  Please pray for healthcare workers when you drive past a clinic or hospital, we are in a battle and we are nowhere near the end, and feel attacked on every side.