I think maybe it's because I'm getting sick -- a combination of two weekends in a row of travelling, not enough sleep, seemingly event after event I'm in the process of organising right now, and the colder weather -- but I'm in that place again of physical exhaustion and a muckiness of thoughts. The past couple days in particular I've been struggling to have that joy and enthusiasm I seek and thrive off of everyday which comes with centering my day with Christ, a sign that I'm just too tired, full stop. This appears to be a recurring theme in my life the past few years, as I have, almost unknowingly (but not really unknowingly), taken on more and more. I have no regrets, and enjoy it all, and I know my heart's in the right place, but when these (rare) occasions come where I'm just so flat out that it seeps me of my joy, then I'm starting to realise I should see it as a warning sign.
Hello Warning Sign. Message received, loud and clear.
Last weekend I was in Christchurch for our first 2010 Exec Meeting where I was newly elected as Vice President which is super exciting, but with which comes a huge time and work commitment. During that weekend I only got a cumulative nine hours sleep, and then the next day was rushing around organising our first surgical society event for the year which also went well, but after which I was utterly pooped. Functioning purely on adrenaline (+/- caffeine) can only last so long, and I find myself this week just managing to get by. It doesn't help that I not-so-wisely got my flu vaccination on Wednesday, hence those prodromal flu symptoms and in particular, serious body ache all over. But, I mean, I've brought it on myself, and I'll get through it, I always do. I thrive off being busy, I know, but in the past year I've learnt where my boundary lies personally. And that boundary is this: if I allow all that "stuff," all my busyness, if I allow it to rob me of my joy, and my ability to love those around me, then it's too much. It's too much. If I'm not doing it with joy and enthusiasm, and if it's not allowing me to share Christ's love with those around me, then it doesn't matter how "successful" I am being, or what I'm achieving in the eyes of the world, I am no longer serving my purpose. Joy and Love, first and foremost. And on those fronts I've been struggling this past week, and that's not good.
Sooo... I've had these evening After Hours/Urgent Doc shifts and I've been doing some awesome medicine, but it has been really physically taxing. And I'm glad it's over. I had a shift even this morning from 9am - 1.30pm, but I will spend the rest of this weekend just re-orientating myself, back to God, back to what it's all really about. Usually when I get sick (and the weather's bad! and can't go running!) it's like a divine reminder to slow down and just... stop.
Today I met a 2nd year med student who was a post-grad, meaning he'd completed another degree before starting up this year. And as we were leaving the lunch we were at, I told him to get in touch if he wanted to grab a coffee anytime with someone "older" to chat etc. He looked at me, kind of in half surprise, and said, "Well, I'm not that much older, you know. I've just done a degree before."
I felt really bad afterwards because I had made an assumption, but at the same time, I completely did not realise that despite him being post-grad he was still most likely YOUNGER THAN ME. It suddenly dawned on me he was still probably a year or two younger. I mean, I'm in my SIXTH year of university... SIX YEARS! If you round up, that's a freakin' decade. And I've been joking about it, being at *that* end of med school, on my way out... how, when these 2nd years graduate I'll be a REGISTRAR(!!) (=senior resident). I joke, I joke, but it never really sank in... until today. I keep thinking about, what's the next five years going to be like; graduation, cool!; applying for surgical training, awesome! ... applying for surgical training... APPLYING FOR SURGICAL TRAINING! Oh man, I'm officially wigged out now. I know it'll pass, but for now I remain officially wigged out.
And with that, with all that's going on, all I've taken on... with the person I have become these past six years, during this journey that is med school... I look at the person I have become, the person I am as I sit here, and wonder... is this the person I want to be? If 17year old Anna going in to med school or, even before then, coming back from that summer at Harvard with an out-of-the-blue but God-inspired plan to try for med school, if that Anna could see the the Anna today, would she be proud? Would she be excited for what lay ahead, for the person she would become?
I know I have a long way to go in love and kindness and joy and goodness, but if I died today, I wonder what would be said. And would those things be the kind of things I hope to hear? "Well done, good and faithful child"?
I've suddenly noticed in the past few months -- either all of a sudden or I just haven't been paying attention but -- everyone seems to be coupled up. It's like even up until last year the default setting was "single" and the smaller proportion "with someone." But now it's like that default changed over and I'm the only one who didn't get the memo. In true Bridget Jones fashion, now almost every dinner I go to I am the odd number, LoL. I honestly don't mind, cos a lot of where I grew in my walk with Christ the last two years is learning and reconciling myself to what it means to have a Godly relationship and marriage, and an ineffable peace at the core of it all with where I am now. But I still think about what it all means, what God wants from me during this phase of my life. And my recent "revelation" has been this: that all this "stuff" -- our job, money, possessions, relationships, achievements, travels, experiences, hobbies, even our day to day mundane tasks -- all of it is just a backdrop to the fundamental act of loving our neighbour. All this other "stuff" is like the quiet unobtrusive buzzing of the refrigerator that allows us -- gives us a context -- to love, those around us. Strangers, friends; patients, family; co-workers and classmates; near or far.
A friend of mine in Wellington mentioned how some of our classmates up there had asked, or mentioned on a few occasions, that they all knew I was a Christian and with that why I did the stuff I did, why I got involved with the stuff that I am. They wondered about my motives, maybe even in a suspicious way? I don't know. But it got me thinking when I heard this, and I think if they asked me my answer would be this: to love them, the people I work with, and to share with them joy, peace, positivity, encouragement (to build them up), patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness and faithfulness and self-control. Things I am continually working on, but in the process, hoping to share the little I have to the fullest of my ability. My cup daily overflows, and so for that overflow to seep through those around me. And if that's something to be suspicious of then we live in a world that needs love that much more.
With all this thinking about the future, all this planning-for-the-next-five-years business, all this single vs relationships, all this worldly busy-ness, I think I've somehow forgotten the point of it all these past few weeks. And what IS the point? The point is, that there's more to life than this moment, the here and now. And that's that. I don't have to DO so much all the time... it's not all on me... it's not all about me. There's so much more. And I just need to stop for a second and... breathe.
"From the bottom of a bank"
September 12, 2009
Dear friend,
As you know for the past week I have been on my rural medicine rotation in Motueka/Nelson, one of the most isolated, serene and untouched areas in the country surrounded by an indescribable primitive beauty. Myself and two other med students are staying in a bach (= small holiday house) right next to the beach (perfect for my runs!) about twenty minutes drive from the nearest "town." The medical practice I've been attached to has been an awesome experience so far, seeing patients by myself all day, flexing those diagnosing and management muscles, and feeling more and more confident with each day that passes.
Yesterday (Friday) I had the day off and I had planned to get a full day of study done at the bach. After breakfast I drove out to the general store down the road to buy a new toothbrush, having dropped mine into a bit of dust and dirt a few minutes before. Funny how one little thing -- like your toothbrush slipping out of your hand -- can lead to a series of utterly unexpected and unpredictable events.
It was raining quite a lot yesterday morning, for the first time since our arrival here, and the long driveway into our bach from the main road is not much of a driveway at all but rather mud and gravel surrounded by forestry. I don't know exactly what happened next (as much of it remains a blur), but my front wheel must have gotten too close to the edge of the drive in just the right place, at just the right angle, at just the right moment... and, before I knew what was happening, the car was tumbling down the bank of forestry, down a few meters, my seatbelt the only thing holding me in place as my car rolled on it's side three or four times. Even though the events before and after remain a blur, the view from inside the car as it tumbled and tumbled replays over in my mind with freakish clarity -- it felt like I was trapped inside a glass washing machine in an abyss of dark green and brown. I distinctly remember trying to brace myself and figure out whether or not this was all actually happening.
When everything finally stopped moving the car was on it's side (the driver's side). Suddenly the inside of the car felt very small. At that moment I had two thoughts: "Anna, don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out. Get back to the house. Just get to the house." So I took off my seatbelt, grabbed the keys, pushed up on the passenger's door, climbed out of the car and up the damp, wet, slippery bank laden with tree branches and forestry, and, without looking back, walked fast but steady up the rest of the gravel driveway to the bach. My heart was racing, my hands shaking. I called Frances, our co-ordinator, and upon hearing her voice at the end of the line I burst out crying.
Thankfully the car was a rental (hence insured), but I was still very shaken up. Frances made a few phone-calls and my classmate-friend, Nic, who was already at his placement Practice drove back within half an hour. A cup of tea and some bad humour later (compliments of Nic), I was feeling a bit better. Despite feeling bad for pulling Nic away from his busy day (although he assured me he didn't mind in the very least!) it was great to have him around, to call the rental company, suss out the tow-truck, and to just be around for some hugs. It took the Tow and Salvage people over an hour to get the car out of the bank, and upon surveying the damage it was hard to believe I came out of it completely unscathed. There was extensive damage to most of the panels including the roof (according to Nic; all I know is that it all looked pretty squished), and both the side mirrors and the windshield were completely shattered.
When I woke up that morning I could never have predicted what was in store for me. I woke up that morning with a plan and a schedule, yet could have never imagined what was to come. I woke up yesterday morning and finished off my quiet-time with God by laying down the day ahead of me at the foot of the Cross of Christ, and by his Grace, asked for his hand to be upon it. Needless to say my prayers were answered.
As I gear up for exams in seven weeks time -- a week that will essentially determine whether or not I am ready to become a doctor -- I am reminded that there is more to life than this moment, this day, this year... more than the here and now. There is more than degrees and jobs, money and property, relationships and friendships, minutes and years. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." (1 Corinthians 13:13) Love for our God, love for one another, love for our neighbours, across the street and across the globe.
It took a tumble down a bank (literally) to remind me of the smallness of a lifetime, and the vastness of eternity. And I guess I just wanted to encourage you, my dear friend, you who fills my heart with joy, to take a moment out of this day, this minute, to pause, clear your mind of the clutter of the day and the world around us, to just revel on the miracle of this moment right now -- the miracle of life; the miracle of all the trillions of things that are working to keep you reading and breathing and thinking; the miracle of what keeps the earth moving and the sun burning; the miracle of the life you've had and the life that is ahead, no matter how long or short that may be. In the noisy world we live in (even in the quiet we have managed to find a way to constantly surround ourselves with noise), we seldom pause to reflect and think about what it is we're really doing... and why. Let us not wait until we find ourselves trapped in a car at the bottom of a bank to search out Purpose and Truth.
Thank you for allowing me the privilege of a few minutes out of your undoubtedly busy day, and in the sharing of our lives these past days, months, years. It has been a true blessing having you in my life and I thank God for you and the friend you have been.
I hope this email finds you well, as always.
Until our next conversation,
With Faith, Hope and most of all, with Love,
Anna
"O Lord you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. You hem me in - behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me, even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created me in my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well... All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you... Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." -Psalm 139
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