Common Grace

So, I just got back from Kauai. I know. Poor me. As it was my first visit to a tropical island of any sort, I was left completely astounded at the beauty of it. I've seen beautiful things - after all the sun does come out in Washington once a year or so - but never have I seen turquoise water. I didn't know water could naturally have so many shades of blues and greens. With or without clouds! In Washington if the sky is grey, the water is grey.  I felt like I needed a couple more eyes to appropriately and fully take in the vast awesomeness of it.

As I was walking the shoreline of the "island's most treacherous beach" (which we swam in - we saw the death tally sign on our way back) and taking in the beauty of the water and the framing cliffs, I started thinking about common grace. 'Common grace', by the way, is a term used by theologians that means the goodness of God that extends to any and everyone.  And it struck me, maybe for the first time, how completely lavish God is.

Here in our world we have some of the most astounding things.  How many natural masterpieces do we each experience in a lifetime? From sunsets to butterflies to palm tree branches in the wind to mountain ranges to lightning.  And it's all free.  Whether you're smart or stupid, beautiful or ugly, rich or poor, religious or atheist, good or evil, there it is. A message from our Creator, a gift of His astounding grace.  How sad that we are often too wrapped up in ourselves to really notice its glory or to feel the beckoning of its Artist.

I sat later in the soft sand, composed of worn down coral and sea shell, and wondered about God. And I wondered if all the beauty I saw was maybe just a postcard.  A picture and a foreshadowing of all He has in store, but like the reality that a picture represents, full of realness and dimension unspeakable.

Love, Law, and Freedom

"I run in the path of your commands, for you set my heart free."

Psalm 119:32

I got to thinking the other day (as I was slightly transgressing the speed limit) about law.  Not exactly a word that gives you fuzzy feelings or inspires great prose.  But even though I didn't really want to go the speed limit, I was realizing that I'm glad for them.  And for traffic laws in general.  Because if they didn't exist, driving would be pandemonium. And dangerous. And it would be hard to get any where.  Which got me thinking about freedom.

Rules and freedom don't sound like friends.  Rules are the things we see as impugning on our freedoms.  But the interesting thing is, without rules, there is less freedom.  If there was no law and associated consequences against stealing, I would not have the freedom to sit in my house and feel safe that most likely no one will try and steal my belongings.  Good laws and wise rules actually create freedom through their restrictions.

Freedom through restriction... an interesting oxymoron.  But we see this with kids too.  People agree that kids need boundaries.  It makes them feel safe, and it gives them the freedom to develop and master the milestones of their age. Of course few children can recognize that, so an adult that truly loves them will restrict them so they can have more freedom.

This law is present in love too.  There is no true love without restrictions on our freedoms.  Because I love my husband I am not free to have sex with anyone else.  I am not free to do whatever I want with my time and money without regards to him.  The most intense love I've experienced has been for my children, and I've also given up more of my freedoms to them than to anything else in my life.  If you want a life free of restrictions, you will also have a life free of love.  But in the restrictions of my family there is an unmatched joy, and yes, freedom.

I think this is an important thing to think about, because it effects our view of God.  American culture has grasped onto the Judeo-Christian concept of a loving God, but has watered the concept down to meaning a God who wants us to follow our hearts and chase our dreams.  We don't like the idea of a God with rules and boundaries.  It sounds restrictive and narrow.  But any parent knows there will come a time when they have to impose a boundary on their child for their own good but their child will see it as offensive and say something like, "you wouldn't do this if you loved me!"  When of course the opposite would be true. Because if we didn't love our children we'd save ourselves the bother and let them head straight into whatever destruction they please.

If you look for a God who will not restrict you what you'll find is a god who does not love you. And instead of finding freedom you'll find slavery. Because to be a God of Love also means to be a God of Law, and in the wise and loving law of God, there is much freedom.

Psych and the ER

  

In nursing school I found our psych rotation fascinating.  The abstract of the human mind and it's interconnection and dependence on the more tangible brain with it's many labyrinths and mysteries and illnesses and unbalances is very very interesting.

That being said... I have never had the slightest desire to be a psych nurse. Not because it isn't a fascinating area, because it is. But it is also a very frustrating one. And so rarely (it seems) a fruitful one.  And so it has been very stretching and rather trying for me to discover that being an ER nurse means being a psych nurse 30% of the time.

I could never have imagined the extent of the psychosis in our midst.  It is so strange to have a patient speak to you from a disjointed reality all their own, that you can't convince them isn't real. And it's unnerving to have someone stare at you with their calm face but intensely pressured gaze that plainly tells you what they are willing and capable of doing to you (and maybe did to their mom, brother, cousin, uncle, innocent bystander) and might do at a moment's notice, before you can call "code grey!" I could never have imagined the large number of thrashing, screaming, wild eyed men calling for children they don't have or referencing encounters with Jesus, Mary, or Oprah that most assuredly did not take place.

Maybe my feelings for mental health nursing have been poorly influenced by encountering it in the ER.  The emergency room must be the least therapeutic place for someone with really any psychiatric problem.  Take the violently paranoid schizo who gets pinned to a gurney by a few men (and women) and strapped down with lock and key restraints.  He must surely be feeling his paranoia must be a little bit justified. And have you ever tried keeping someone with bipolar in manic phase in one room?? And thanks to poor funding and few resources, we've had to keep mentally unstable patients with us for days!  With none of their normal meds, unfamiliar surroundings, people watching them all the time, and nothing to do but become agitated, angry, demanding, or try to escape - sometimes naked.

Maybe if I felt in some way we did them some good I would be able to cope with it better. But I don't.  At best we keep them from hurting themselves and us (usually).  But other than that it's like an unpleasant version of Purgatory. And we're the angels that drew the short stick.

Maybe if I had Jesus' ability to set people in their right minds.  But I hardly have his insight. Or compassion.  And I can't seem to help my morale hitting the floor when I hear the words, "you're getting an ambulance in 10 minutes with a violent, combative patient in 4 point restraints." And I know I'm not alone.  God help us.  And God help those fragile, tangled minds.