I don’t consider myself a compassionate person.
“But
you’re a nurse!” one might say. One may also think, “Didn’t you say you’re a
Christian?”
I
suppose I should elaborate: I certainly feel compassion. I even act out of
compassion. I feel that I lack, however, something of the innate empathy and understanding
that many of my fellow nurses and fellow believers possess. Until I experience an
event or circumstance, my only grasp is cognitive.
What
then am I, a vain, self-centered wannabe rock star, to do? When faced with a
patient’s pain or fear or loss, I wait. I’m prepared to wait ten seconds, but
it usually takes mere microseconds. The Holy Spirit does something remarkable.
He floods me with a heavenly connection that melts me with divine love and
mercy. I fall madly in love with the person before me and I feel like I can
move heaven and earth on his or her behalf.
A
new question arises. Can a vain, self-centered wannabe rock star become a
compassionate person?
I’m willing to try.
