A couple of weeks ago, my supervisor made a comment about how people have to earn it with me referring to my charm, wit, goofiness, whatever you want to call it. It was a nice compliment and something I've thought a lot about since then. In thinking about my close relationships (platonic or romantic), those people have earned my trust to become acquainted with every facet of who I am. Through reciprocity of authenticity and intention. I believe when you are able to be authentic and intentional in your actions, that's when you create a reality of trust and full acceptance, a place where vulnerability and compassion can dwell. And not only dwell, but thrive in your relationships with yourself and others.
Yesterday, I was at work and feeling emotionally spent after a long few days in a row of working. I felt like I was juggle everything and figure things out for patients and their families, going a few steps beyond what is required or spending more time...but feeling like none of it really mattered. On Friday, a patient's daughter made the comment that you wouldn't think a speech therapist does the things I do. I agreed with her. In the acute care setting, it's a lot of swallowing and memory and attention and cognition and problem solving and patient/family education and social work/counseling and suctioning and ice chips and applesauce and all the things you normally associate with speech therapist like speech ("So you fix r's and s's, right?") and language (syntax, semantics, pragmatics, the whole nine yards).
Off the tangent now, emotions were spent. I feel like my emotional reserve has been in a constant state of emotional confusion (readjusting the core memories or something like that? Inside Out, anyone? Anyone?) and emotional depletion along with a lot of feelings of inadequacy, not doing enough, etc. for the last little while. I had two new orders come in late in the afternoon: luckily one of the patients had been seen earlier in the day and transferred from the RICU to this floor. The other patient had previously been seen by an outpatient speech therapist. As I read the medical history and chart of this patient, I became increasingly saddened. I walked into the room and began my evaluation and interaction with the patient and spouse in a dimly lit room, the sun setting rapidly outside. Halfway through, I looked over at the whiteboard on the wall to find the name of the RN assigned to this patient and there was a small 8x10 picture of the Savior with the words underneath, "Jesus, I trust you."
It took all I had in me to not start breaking down, especially since these two were so gracious and grateful for my help. The first thank you I'd heard all day.
Between that encounter and a sweet text from my best friend, I was bawling on my way home from work. While I was emotionally spent, this was a reminder to me of the one I can always trust in--my Savior, Jesus Christ. He knows all I am facing. He knows my burdens. He always has and always will be there for me. And guess what? I don't have to earn His love or care for me. It is always there for me, I just need to let Him in. Last night, I could see that since the end of August, I have needed to work on not requiring Him to earn my trust. I need to recognize more fully that these feelings of inadequacy, confusion or darkness over my path and where it is leading me right now...it all can be swallowed up in His mercy and love, if I but trust in Him leading me along. Yesterday was a good reminder for me to lay my burdens at His feet and to let Him guide me more fully. I have done it before, but now is the time to stretch my faith more than it ever has, to experiment upon the word, to place my wholehearted trust in Him.
Bind my wandering heart to thee. I trust you.