I was hoping by Easter to have a specific plan, ready to spring into action, a completed blog to write, and neatly tie with a bow and a nice title, sharing what I plan to do with my life.
This Easter, I am 33 years old, the same age Jesus was when he died.
I know it doesn’t matter. I know they’re just numbers.
But I wonder what it means to learn to die like Jesus, to die to yourself and live only for others.
And I remember that old poem:
Jesus and Alexander died at 33, one lived and died for self, one died for you and me.
So how do you live to the best of your ability without living like Alexander?
By now, I’m sure most of you have sorted through my words and made your own conclusions about my plans.
“Rick, what do you think of me going to medical school?” I asked the other day of my co-worker who knows a little bit about everything.
“Well,” he said, “what you have to realize is that there will be an element of regret no matter what you decide.”
Ah. I had felt that subconsciously, but hadn’t put it into words.
Three years of pre-requisites. Four expensive years of medical school, then a move to a city somewhere for residency and training. If I want to be a surgeon, those years of training would be very long.
And.
I don’t want to tell you this part, but it’s the truth. I decided early in this process that I should consult the surgeons in my life. They know me and they know the field.
I was with Dr. Dickson one day and I said it: “I’m thinking of going to medical school.”
“Oh, well!” He said. “What do you want me to say? It’s a lot of hard work. But I think you would make a good doctor.”
“What about my inability to make decisions?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “there’s a place for everyone. Now if you were telling me you wanted to be a surgeon…” he said.
Great.
I must confess I didn’t have the strength to tell him the truth that day: that my dad was a good veterinary surgeon, that I love to work with my hands, that if I do this I want to be a surgeon, not a “doctor”.
But I swallowed my gloom at his comment and continued my survey.
“Dr. Halloran,” I said a few days later, “I’m thinking of going to medical school.”
“Oh,” he said. “You would do fine with the academics. There are lots of other stresses though… I don’t think surgery would be right for you,” he went on without a pause. “You’re not cut out to be a surgeon.”
I am not making this up. Depressing but true.
I later confessed my true feelings to both of them, “Oh well, what do we know? We were just talking about your personality. It matters what you think, not what we think.”
What do we know? Ha. A lot. Every time I tell the story, even my strongest supporters grow pale and start suggesting alternatives. (What about being a nurse practitioner? A physician’s assistant? But, someone said, they do only know you in one capacity.)
Sigh…
So my Easter post is not a perfect package.
And in the mulling over my own motives and the question of where a person should place their energies, I am brought back to Christ and Alexander.
The Greek died on a throne; the Jew died on a cross. One’s life a triumph seemed; the other but a loss…
…One won the world in life, and lost it all in death. The other gave His life to bring the whole world faith.
“Jesus and Alexander”-Anon.
Instead, there’s nothing complete about my thoughts right now, except perhaps this one:
If I fix my eyes on Christ as the gold standard for every decision and action, my life will be useful in any sphere. If, like Alexander the Great, I live and die for self, my life will be meaningless in any sphere. My self-made castle may look like a triumph to a few people who don’t know the truth, but it will not be.
I will end with a prayer which paraphrases Amy Carmichael’s words:
Oh Christ, teach me to die! Teach me to be invisible, the air that allows the light to pass through. Love through me, love of God!
Happy Easter!
8 thoughts on “Golden Easter”
Hi Katrina, it is time for my 2 cents (for what it is worth). In my 20 years of nursing, I worked in small, medium, and large hospitals all of which were teaching hospitals; I cared for babies born as early as 22 weeks & weighing in at just below a pound all the way up to a 105 year old man who had a CABG done, and in that time have seen and helped train my share of doctors & surgeons. Having watched you grow through your teens, I know you are intelligent, thoughtful, kind, responsible, and take what you do in your life seriously. I was not at all surprised to discover you are a nurse (I was more surprised that your father let you go to the middle east with all that is going on there!), and I think you will make a fine physician.
While the surgeons you spoke with may not see you as a surgeon, I can. Your temperment reminds of a cardiothoracic surgeon we had in Marshfield (Hope Maki)–she was soft spoken, a little on the quieter shy side, but her confidence (which she told me came about in her surgical residency) commanded the respect of all around her. Initially I thought I saw you as a Pediatrician, and then when you mentioned surgery I changed my mind. I would suggest OB/GYN–it can be the best of both worlds, establishing lasting professional relationships with families, bringing new life into the world, and you still get to perform surgery. In med school you get to do different rotations to help determine what direction you wish to go in for your residency…many med students I worked with went to school thinking they wanted to go one way, but when it was time to choose they went completely different. I even worked with residents who changed concentrations during residency. And as far as your percieved inability to make a decision, that too goes away when you are in training.
Next…cost…yes it costs a lot in both time and money. I have no suggestions for time issue, but for the money I do. Look into practicing rural medicine. Often times a rural hospital/clinic will pay off part or all of your student loan debt if you agree to come work with them for a number of years. Look at areas with what are called “critical access” hospitals–they are all over Nebraska and usually have no more than 25 beds, but they often provide general surgical, medical, pediatric, family medicine, OB (w/delivery), and internal medicine, our hospital here even has an orthopedic doctor.
Keep us all posted on what you choose to do! I would be delighted to provide you with a reference when you apply to med school!
~Carol
Such a useful and kind reply, Carol! It’s interesting that you mention OB, because someone else had suggested that to me. I also enjoyed your description of Hope Maki, because I was hoping there were surgeons like that around. 🙂
Thanks for taking the time to create this encouraging post!
I’ve been going through a sort of tough decision-making time, too, and having a lot of the same thoughts. I know about that inability to make decisions. 🙂 I read a chapter by A.W. Tozer recently, from The Pursuit of God, that was so perfect for this. “The knowledge that we are all God’s, that He has received all and rejected nothing, will unify our inner lives and make EVERYTHING sacred to us.” (emphasis mine)
Thanks Lucy. I read your blog as well and I wish you Godspeed on your journey!
As an adoptive mother I can sort of see where the surgeons were coming from. When parent’s come to us and talk about adopting for the first time, I see all the mistakes we made and all the possible difficulties and wonder if they could begin to handle the “hard” stuff. Often tho years later I meet the same families and they did adopt, they went through some tough stuff and “with God” they are stronger people.
The surgeons might be looking at it in the same way(?)
So my advice, seek God, test the doors and don’t shove any of them open, “if God seems to close a door, don’t look for a window, rather pull up a sofa and wait.” (heard that somewhere) If God is asking you to do this “hard thing” He will go with you and you will be “useful”
Thanks for your thoughts Chris… I can easily believe that you have gone through some difficult things on that journey. Thank you for your perspective!
Such hard feedback to swallow, Katrina. I admire how you are processing this.
Useful in any sphere… Meaningless in any sphere… That is a challenging contrast. I wish you steadfastness in pursuit of this mark for a life well lived.
Thanks for your encouragement Shawn. I feel blessed with many people to give me valuable feedback.