God's work

I just finished reading this book, "Same Kind of Different As Me." I didn't know much about it when I first started reading, except that it was recommended by a friend. And I wasn't warned that I would cry through the last quarter of it, so consider yourself duly warned now. It's a wonderful story about a homeless man who has a lot to teach despite never having set foot in a school, and a wealthy art dealer that lives in his own kind of poverty, and how their lives were changed by one woman's boldness and love. At one point, one of the characters talks about that woman staying on the earth until God had finished His work with her. It made me stop and think about what that work is in my life. It's empty lip service to say that God has a plan for each of us if we never try to figure out what that plan is.

The easy answer is that I'm His hands and His words to the patients that I see, but I have to admit that I don't always have that at the forefront of my mind when I walk into a room. There are many days when I'm distracted and impatient, anything but merciful and loving. I can only pray that He will work through me despite myself, and that over time, I may grow more docile and pliable. It's baby steps though, and a lot of steps backwards, it seems. But God is bigger than my failures, and so I do believe that He is doing His work, and He's not finished with me yet.