This is Lily. She’s gone to work a night shift tonight, and she’s hoping the fans are working on the ward because it was sweltering last night. She’s feeling groggy – it wasn’t easy to get sleep today, with the heat and neighbours cutting the lawn, her children interrupting her rest, and thoughts of that patient’s family on her mind. She feels honoured to be there at the most intimate times of people’s lives, to be trusted to care, but it’s exhausting at times too. Communities did their last big ‘clap for carers’ last night, but carers will keep caring, whether they’re in the limelight and surrounded by rainbows, or whether it’s in the dark of night surrounded only by the pain and tears of others. And as the sun rises, she goes home, putting the emotions of the night to one side, to keep caring for her own family, to trying to catch some sleep, before she gets up, and goes back to do it all over again.
I feel sobered tonight, by the thought of all the ‘Lily’s’ in our country, and all the families they are caring for, day in, day out. Sobered by the story of one of those heartbroken families I read today. And I’m sobered by how easily I can forget the world outside, and get pre-occupied with my own little corner. And how easily the pre-occupation turns to complaint. And I forget to be grateful.
I was in the kitchen today, and for what felt like the sixtieth time in five minutes, Maddie appeared at the back door, dripping wet from the pool, looking cross. ‘I’m getting out! Those boys are being mean!’ So I dried her, again, dressed her, again, and off she marched, footsteps with attitude. Only to be followed by Theo. ‘I need to go with Maddie! Maddie! Maddie! We need to play princesses! Mum, change me QUICKLY! I need to go with Maddie!’
So I change him, dress him, and off he goes.
Enter Micah. ‘I’m getting out! Dress me!’
So I wrestle him into clothes as he squirms and wiggles, trying to run away whilst half dressed.
Two seconds later, Maddie reappears. ‘They followed me! I wanted to be alone! Can I go back in the pool now?’
This scenario played itself out so many times I lost count, and I started to get frustrated, considering banning the pool/locking the back door/running away/insert other suggestions here.
But as I thought it, I realised how petty it was, and how much I need to practice thanking instead of complaining. I’m the lucky one, to be here, with my family, safely together. To get to be the one who dresses and undresses them on multiple occasions, who reads their stories and kisses them goodnight.
To have watched Theo and Megan playing silly ‘I love you’, ‘no, I love you more’ games this morning.
Or to watch as Megan helped all three younger ones make Rocky Road, marshmallows flying everywhere, with the patience of someone twice her years.
Or to cheer Toby on as he finally persisted in catching a running chick to hold.
I’m so grateful to get to hang out in the garden with them as they eat their afternoon ice cream, to hear the little conversations that go on between sisters in the swings.
To laugh at Theo as he came to lean on my knees, doing his fake grumpy face, as he asked for yet more snacks.
Or to watch Maddie making little games of herself with two of her best friends, ‘we’re going to the park, there’s no Coronavirus now, and we can have a big hug.’ It’s poignant, yes, but I’m so grateful that this girl has those friends who make her laugh and who she’s looking forward to seeing again, who accept her for who she is.
I can get so caught up with bemoaning the mundaneness, or wishing I could do something more useful, something more noble. But I remember the verse from the prophet Micah is named after, the verse that lives above his bed –
‘He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?’ – Micah 6:8
That’s what I’m called to do. To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God. And that starts in my own home. Doing justice, teaching justice. Loving kindness, showing kindness. And walking humbly. Humbly grateful for all I’ve been given. Humbly leaning on God for all I need. Humbly loving those He’s created.
Im grateful for all the ‘Lily’s’ around me, family and friends, who faithfully live out this calling in their work places and homes, whatever those roles might be. Doing justice, loving mercy, walking humbly. You are incredible, and you are seen.
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