When I Grow Up, I Won't Work in The Medical Profession...But I'm Thankful For Those Who Do

My friend Kelli leads her 1st grade team in a college readiness project each year. This year, the New York Times caught wind of the project and did a report on it. If you’re curious about it, take a look here: http://mobile.nytimes.com/2015/02/08/education/edlife/is-your-first-grader-college-ready.html?referrer&_r=0. I think it’s pretty cool. Really cool, actually.

At their end of year awards program, the first grade team teachers chose to continue with this project by announcing where each first grade student wanted to attend college and what they wanted to be when they grew up. I enjoyed listening to this part of the ceremony. From what I remember, most students wanted to be police-people or fire-fighters. A few wanted to be teachers. One girl wanted to be a construction worker. No one wanted to be president. And I can’t remember if anyone wanted to be a doctor. I don’t blame them if they didn’t. I know I certainly didn’t want to be a doctor. Nor do I want to be one now.

It never fails that I leave the hospital, doctor’s office, or dentist office thankful that God didn’t call me into the medical field. I suppose that if God had called me into the field, then my gifts, talents, interests, and tolerances would have been much different than they are now. But still. I’m always grateful that I don’t have to do the work of medical personnel each day—and that there are people who do do the work—and who are good at it.

My mom had some really good doctors and nurses while she was in the hospital this week. She has a really good family doctor, too, that willingly answered my texts of distress this afternoon and had her nurse call to check in with the patient. I am grateful.

And so tonight, I offer my first public prayer of thanksgiving and supplication for those in the medical profession—and those who will one day be in the medical profession like some of our first graders who will undoubtedly decide not to be police-people but servants of public health. Whether it be physical, mental, or emotional needs to which they attend—which, in most cases it is all of the above—the work that they do is so important—and, I believe, will become increasingly more important in years to come—especially in regards to mental health—which, I believe, is something that we cannot keep ignoring unless we want to continue seeing horrific tragedies like that of Charleston this week.

Loving God, giver of life and health: Daily strengthen and comfort the men and women who work to prevent and relieve pain and suffering and give to them the power of healing as they minister to the needs of those who cross their paths. Fill them with a sense of purpose and help them always to know that the work that they do is important and that the lives that they influence will forever be tied to the labor of their time and hands. Grant discernment. Grant hope. Grant integrity. Grant wisdom. Tonight, tomorrow, and in all the nights and tomorrows to come. Amen.