Vulnerability From a Nurse Practitioner

Guest Post by Lauren Coleman Thompson, Family Nurse Practitioner

My job as a Nurse Practitioner at the clinic had just begun; I felt ready and eager to treat hypertension, diabetes, arthritis, or anything else thrown at me. Excited to finally be working close to home—having grown up in a small town of similar size—I longed to get to know people, really sink in roots, and have a positive impact in my community.

Weeks turned to months, and as faces reappeared, I became more and more familiar with the people who came to us for treatment. Great; this was exactly what I wanted.

One patient, in particular, came in more frequently than others, and he always asked to have the callouses on his feet shaved down. Though never a dirty person, his poor feet definitely needed attention. About the fifth time he came in to see me with the request to have his feet worked on, I became frustrated, and honestly annoyed thinking, "I didn't go to school to shave callouses off feet!"

“I didn’t go to school to shave callouses off feet!”

— FNP

Leaving the exam room exasperated, I headed down the hall to the treatment room to gather supplies. About halfway there, I felt the wind completely leave my sails; it was as if the Lord literally tapped me on the shoulder, unannounced. A flood of thoughts hit me at once: Jesus, the King of kings and Lord of lords, on the day before He was to be crucified, washed feet, feet made dirty from traveling in a desert wearing sandals. He washed the feet of His betrayer; He washed the feet of His best friend, the one who would soon deny Him. At that moment the Spirit spoke to me, "You aren't here for you and your ego; you are here for Me, to do My work; that is why you went to school, that is why you are here."

“You aren’t here for you and your ego; you are here for Me, to do My work; that is why you went to school, that is why you are here.”

— The Spirit of God

After clearing the lump in my throat, I finished grabbing my supplies and returned to Exam 5, propped up his feet on the chair, and shaved his callouses, just like the callouses on my heart had just been peeled away. Afterward, I applied lotion (something I don't usually do) and I told him how Jesus had washed and cleaned His disciples’ feet in the same way. Shortly thereafter, when he got up to leave, I thanked him; he had no idea how much that thank you really meant.

I don't write this to bring attention to myself or to garner praise; I write this because it spoke so loudly to me. Even in the mundane, the everyday activities that are less than glamorous, in the parts of life where one may just be going through the motions, God can and should be glorified.

That patient passed away a couple of years later. But every time I shave callouses, I think about this encounter. With a new perspective, I sit down on the floor, which usually gets sideways looks, but opens doors for conversation. Then, as I am reminded that our Lord and Savior got down on the ground and washed feet, I try to share that with patients as we sit there together.

We make excuses for not speaking about God or witnessing. Yet sometimes it’s just getting on the same level as people, being transparent and real.

God told us to "Go out into the world and make disciples,” to be His hands and feet, to serve one another, to love one another, to live out His life in our actions; and when necessary, to use words.

Jesus provided us a model, even in the hours approaching His death. We talk and joke about what we would do if we only had one day left on this earth; Jesus sat down and washed feet.

Lauren Coleman Thompson, FNP-C

“We talk and joke about what we would do if we only had one day left on this earth; Jesus sat down and washed feet.”

— FNP

Living With Eternal Intentionality®

“And the King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of Mine, you did for Me’” (Matthew 25:40).

Put yourself in Lauren’s shoes there in her clinic. How would you have reacted to the man’s ongoing return to have his callouses removed?

What do you learn from her vulnerability and authenticity? Her change of heart?

When have you had a similar experience where God needed to remind you of His purpose for your life?

Meet Lauren! She is a follower of Jesus, a wife, and a mother. Wise beyond her years, she desires, “To Glorify Jesus in All That I Do!” It is my honor to be her aunt.

Rise Up and Call Her Blessed

A Tribute: Thank you for giving me life.

On this Mother’s Day, I pause to honor you. While your friends know you as Dorothy Faye, your grandchildren know you as Gammy, and your great-grandchildren know you as Great Gammy, being your only daughter, I know you as Mama. And this privilege stands as one of God’s richest and most precious gifts to me. Thus, I begin my tribute.

Thank you for tirelessly meeting my needs, joyfully putting my desires before your own, and willingly giving of your very self on my behalf. Because you invested your life in equipping me to live mine—wherever I go and whatever I do—I feel prepared.

Spiritually, you taught me that life was to be lived loving God and serving people. One of the sweetest recollections I have of growing up is your teaching me the 23rd Psalm for recitation in my kindergarten program. Without a doubt, my heart’s yearning for the Word of God goes back to that beginning. And you taught me to sing “Jesus Loves Me.” Every day I experience unspeakable joy in the reality of those precious, life-changing words learned so long ago.

Security and significance are anchored in the core of my being. Somehow, in some incredible way, you consistently made me feel loved, accepted and valued.

Turning the pages of memories brings a smile. Somehow you managed to convey the joy and dignity of being a lady while granting me the freedom to be a tomboy. You taught (and enforced) good grooming and simultaneously applauded my wearing cowboy boots and getting dirty. From you, I learned to treasure the smell of gardenias, conversation over a cup of coffee with a friend, Southern recipes, and the deep love of family. Oh, I am so grateful! And, that morning you let me roller-skate before school outdoors in my pajamas demonstrated to me that some rules are better broken.

Thank you for the high priority you have placed on communication. You demonstrated that there is simply no substitute for time spent together. All those hours logged in the car driving to and from town provided the perfect opportunity to talk. Praise God, our disagreements—typically over hairstyle, dress length, or tardiness—remained short-lived. And I cannot recall one single event that I participated in that you did not attend. How amazing!

Whenever I have needed assistance or advice, you made yourself available. You have never, and I truly mean never, been too busy for me. In all the decades we lived so far away, you made sure our relationship stayed close. Distance only served to enhance the warmth and assurance of your love and involvement in my life. Still, you remain my loyal, devoted prayer warrior, my go-to for guidance on sorting out schedule conflicts, and my better-than-Google resource regarding all things culinary.

Mama, I learned from you to cherish the calling of wife and mother. In you, I found the perfect model. You are so incredibly unselfish. You have always been willing to cheerfully sacrifice for the good of our family. And, I must add, you have written the book on how to be an ideal grandmother. Oh, that I might live to have the awesome privilege of hearing my grandchildren and great-grandchildren say the words of me that your grandchildren say about you!

Proverbs 31:28 states, “Her children rise up and call her blessed.” May this be a day of celebration for you. What a privilege that, within our mother-daughter relationship, I can call you my best friend. Mama, you are deeply loved and eternally appreciated. To God be all the praise and glory.

I love you dearly,

Debby

First day of 1st grade, 1956

Living With Eternal Intentionality®

Consider writing a tribute to your mother, or your spiritual mother, whether she still lives or has passed away. While you may intentionally write it to her, you will discover enormous benefits for yourself.

Will you please tell me what you think about this suggestion?

Parental Regret

“I need to hear this; this is good stuff. Debby, this needs to be your next blog post. No, I’m serious; I need to hear this.” 

I listened over the phone to a young, energetic, hardworking, doing-it-right mom. Her love for Jesus, selfless devotion to her family, and involvement in the lives of others set this woman apart. Yet, this morning, her story revealed a deep sadness. The pain she and I discussed involved a child, a disappointment, a broken heart, a shattered dream, and an uncertain outcome. I could relate.

Embracing the pain in her mother’s heart, I offered, “____," (and I called her by name) “one of my greatest regrets as a parent is that I did not teach my children how to navigate suffering.” 

“One of my greatest regrets as a parent is that I did not teach my children how to navigate suffering.”

— Living With Eternal Intentionality®

Here is what I did wrong:

•    I tried too hard to protect them from suffering. Yet, life does not give us the luxury of avoidance. Injury, illness, insult, and pain are inevitable ingredients of human existence.

•    I attempted to rewrite the script. Hello! You can’t rewrite the script. Disappointment, hurt, and heartache punctuate life. Right? Editing and re-editing these realities will not make them go away.

Here is what I would do differently:

•    I would reevaluate my ineffective efforts to erase their pain. A mother can comfort, a mother can come alongside; a mother cannot eradicate pain.

•    I would release the futile attempt to rewrite the script that edits out pain since this promotes an unrealistic view of life. 

•    I would pray for wisdom, and strive to find that blessed sweet place where reality and comfort—walking hand in hand—gently lead to God and, by His Spirit, growth. 

And here is the key:

•    I would spend more time teaching my children equipping skills of walking with suffering, not seeking to eliminate suffering.

Skills training would look like this:

Acknowledge their pain; it is real

Acknowledge what is true, both for them and for you

Smother them with authentic, heartfelt comfort

Guide them through the situation with an invaluable, supernatural set of lenses. Help them navigate the situation at hand while preparing them for life’s obstacle course ahead. Such life skills will provide bedrock stability when the waves of suffering threaten to destroy. 

Upon reflection, a principle emerges: Fear of suffering prevents us from being prepared for suffering.

“Fear of suffering prevents us from being prepared for suffering. ”

— Living With Eternal Intentionality®

Another young mom in my life takes us to the heart of suffering. Listen and learn from Jody. I have known her since she was a little girl. Now she is mom to a suffering young man, and her heart and words reveal wisdom beyond her years. With Jody's permission, I share her letter to her son, whose name has been changed.

“We can’t take this from you. We can’t create an alternate, less-painful route for you. We can’t answer why.”

— Jody

Dear Landon,

 It’s another big day for you. Another big month.

No sugar coating necessary; we all know there is nothing fun about this. 

We know you are scared. In an instant, your Dad and I would take your place.

To our great heartbreak, we cannot take this from you.

To our great frustration, way too often the only answer we can give is “I don’t know.”

We can’t take this from you. We can’t create an alternate, less-painful route for you. We can’t answer why.

But here’s what we can do. We can promise you this:

You will not be alone.

We will climb this mountain, we will fight this battle, we will hold your hand for as long as this takes. For the duration of our lives, if you need us that long.

We are so, so proud of you. You are stronger than you know.

Let’s make this count, shall we?

Every ounce of our love, Mom and Dad

Thank you, Jody; thank you for guiding us down a better path. 

Living With Eternal Intentionality®

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3).

What about you? How have you as a parent prepared your children for the inevitability of suffering?

Describe how walking alongside someone else in and through their suffering has developed your own faith in the God of all Comfort.