It’s about 3:40pm and I just woke up from my “night’s sleep.” I feel really wound up. All sorts of thoughts and feelings flooded me as my eyelids struggled to open, and stayed with me as I attempted to make today’s lectio divina the start of my day. My focus felt like a swarm of wasps buzzing around and around; as if their nest was tucked away in the corner of my brain and heart. And of course if I were to impatiently attempt removing the nest away without being extremely careful, I would be covered by swarm of yellow jacket stings. I wondered about how the nest got there in the first place.
Today’s swarm of thoughts and feelings was probably brought to me by the overnight shift I just worked at the psych hospital. It was my first overnight in a very long time, probably about half a year since my last one. I stayed up all night preparing paperwork and pouring over patient’s charts; walking into every room to check on each patient, making sure they were safe; watching manic patients act out their psychosis throughout the night (I kind of wish I had their energy, but not really); and accompanying the nurses in their attempts to keep busy and avoid the sandman’s tempting calls to close our eyes if even for just a moment. And in between all of those tasks, working the night shift gives you a lot of time to ponder...what I want to do after graduation, why my relationships turn out the way they do, where the best clams might be for the next time I attempt to make clam linguini, what my ambivalence in starting a private-practice might be about, etc. Also, I think it’s really interesting how fielding the questions of delusional patients can sometimes free up my mind to wonder about the most imaginative or reflective things. Statements like, “I’m concerned about my safety.” from a psychotically paranoid patient have on occasion led me to wonder about where in my own life I might be somewhat delusionally preoccupied with protection. Yep, eight and a half hours of time for contemplation in an environment poignantly dedicated to people’s disorganization probably carried over into my “morning.”
It makes sense then, when I read John 1:35-42, about a couple of Jesus’ first disciples, that I wondered what kind of delusions Jesus was welcoming them to bring to him. They were meeting the Christ for the first time and probably had all sorts of assumptions about him; and with that, I’m sure they had their very own ambitions, fears, questions, and the like that come from their own life stories; some true and reality based and others ridiculously ridiculous. They brought into their discipleship with Jesus, their organized and disorganized sense of self. Yet Jesus welcomed these curious followers, inviting them to process their lives with him. So, as I slowly read aloud Jesus’ words, “What do you want?” and “Come…and you will see…”, I felt like God was welcoming me – all of me, which includes my disorganized, my delusional, and my yellow jacket swarm of a heart and mind to “discipleship.”
Today’s swarm of thoughts and feelings was probably brought to me by the overnight shift I just worked at the psych hospital. It was my first overnight in a very long time, probably about half a year since my last one. I stayed up all night preparing paperwork and pouring over patient’s charts; walking into every room to check on each patient, making sure they were safe; watching manic patients act out their psychosis throughout the night (I kind of wish I had their energy, but not really); and accompanying the nurses in their attempts to keep busy and avoid the sandman’s tempting calls to close our eyes if even for just a moment. And in between all of those tasks, working the night shift gives you a lot of time to ponder...what I want to do after graduation, why my relationships turn out the way they do, where the best clams might be for the next time I attempt to make clam linguini, what my ambivalence in starting a private-practice might be about, etc. Also, I think it’s really interesting how fielding the questions of delusional patients can sometimes free up my mind to wonder about the most imaginative or reflective things. Statements like, “I’m concerned about my safety.” from a psychotically paranoid patient have on occasion led me to wonder about where in my own life I might be somewhat delusionally preoccupied with protection. Yep, eight and a half hours of time for contemplation in an environment poignantly dedicated to people’s disorganization probably carried over into my “morning.”
It makes sense then, when I read John 1:35-42, about a couple of Jesus’ first disciples, that I wondered what kind of delusions Jesus was welcoming them to bring to him. They were meeting the Christ for the first time and probably had all sorts of assumptions about him; and with that, I’m sure they had their very own ambitions, fears, questions, and the like that come from their own life stories; some true and reality based and others ridiculously ridiculous. They brought into their discipleship with Jesus, their organized and disorganized sense of self. Yet Jesus welcomed these curious followers, inviting them to process their lives with him. So, as I slowly read aloud Jesus’ words, “What do you want?” and “Come…and you will see…”, I felt like God was welcoming me – all of me, which includes my disorganized, my delusional, and my yellow jacket swarm of a heart and mind to “discipleship.”
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