Driving into the entrance of the hospital yesterday to visit one of my ill congregation members, I saw a pair of dreaded speed bumps.
Generally, I hate those things. Their purpose: slow you down and prevent you from driving too fast in parking lots, near hospitals, or any other place it is generally wise to use caution.
Doesn't matter what kind of vehicle you drive these days, you have to slow down to the speed of a turtle to prevent damaging your car. Especially since they have decided to make those things slightly smaller than the Rocky Mountains.
I ascended and descended the apex of said street mountains and made my way to the clergy parking. I meandered upstairs to visit this particular congregation member. She had an e-coli infection and needed heavy doses of anti-biotics. I stood in the room with her as a nurse gave her an ultra sound to find a good vain for an IV. Another nurse came in to check her body over and make sure everything looked O.K. I had to leave for a portion of that second nurse's duty.
I stood in that room with hospital gloves on my hands to prevent infection and thought about the woman sitting there. I've been visiting with her several times a year for the past seven years. Six and a half of those years were spent in a nursing home. I had never seen her this sick.
When the nurses were done, I moved to her bedside. I held her hand and visited with her. She never opened her eyes, but she spoke clearly to me and held a good conversation with me. But she felt like crap. I know not to stay too long in such circumstances, so after about 30 minutes, I prayed with her and left.
I walked back out to my car and climbed in. I drove to the parking lot exit and saw the speed bumps.
And then I thought about the member I just visited. I thought about another church member whose heart acted up on him the weekend prior and spent time in the hospital. I thought about another gentleman who has terminal cancer and has chosen to forgo life extending treatments. I thought about the many others in the past several years who have encountered such "speed bumps" in life.
They've been forced to slow down. Sometimes even stop. They've been forced to take a second look at life and their surroundings. Sometimes when they've rammed into those "speed bumps" it has shaken them to the core. Each time, it has been life altering--even if it was for a few days, weeks, or months.
As I passed over those speed bumps in the road, I wondered if I'm oftentimes traveling too fast. I wondered if I was going to hit a "speed bump" at some point and time. Did I need to be reminded to slow down? Did I need to be reminded to take another look at my surroundings and really see what was going on? Could I slow down enough to appreciate life as it passes instead of rushing from place to place without noticing what is happening?
After I traversed the speed bumps, I pressed down on the accelerator again. The car sped up.
Will I allow my life to do the same?
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