First, God showed me what community really meant. I chose to leave Houston because I felt like community was an idol in my life, and I realized here in Dallas that it indeed was. I sought community like I seek most everything else in my life--as a selfish pursuit. I wanted to make Christian friends who would keep me accountable, pray for me everyday, encourage me through God's word. But what ultimately happened when I couldn't find that? I began to judge them in my heart -- for all the things they weren't doing to be what I thought good, strong Christians should be. God needed to show me that community was created another way to bring the glory back to him, that at the crux of it, it's never about us and all about him. If we don't receive the nourishment we need from our fellow brothers and sisters, yes maybe there is something wrong with the community, but more importantly there is probably something wrong with our relationship with God. Good community can never replace a good God, and on the contrary, bad community can never represent a bad God. I didn't understand this until I had almost no community and could only turn to God, pleading with him to change my heart so that I could no longer have so much hatred and judgement inside me. I clung to good community too closely in Houston and at Rice, and when it was taken away, I thought I had lost my foothold.
Second, "not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rom 5:3-5). When I got to the part where suffering was supposed to produce endurance, I wanted to run away instead. Ironically I also did not turn to this verse to give me encouragement to keep pressing forward. I just did what I normally do -- doubt. I cannot count the number of times I wrestled with God asking him to take away the burden of medical school and of being a doctor. I asked so hard that if he wanted me here, the answer would be much clearer than the murky perspective I was getting. But my ultimatum to myself was that the only clear sign that this wasn't God's plan was if I failed out, and fortunately (or unfortuately?), that hasn't happened. I realized that the promises we make to each other or to God can be loosely attended to or held with the utmost regard as a covenant. Although my ultimatum wasn't an "official" covenant with God, the trust I placed in him when I first accepted his grace was, and that covenant to follow God's will must continue into eternity.
Third, despite all my shortcomings and failures, my Lord is holy and he cannot forsake me. I experienced very distinct moments where the sin of this world could have taken me back where I came from, but in those moments the tug of Christ's love was stronger than ever. I am constantly amazed how God could ever love me, a broken and sinful creature, how he could step down from his holy throne to walk the earth that I do. If anything, the one good thing being in medical school has done for me is to make the gospel even more real in my life. The whole idea of practicing medicine admits to the fact that we can never be the perfect physician -- we are constantly learning from our mistakes. We can only get so far before we hit that glass ceiling. Our service to mankind has its limits. I think that is the hardest thing for doctors to accept. They can't embrace the idea that a holy God has already done what they seek to do in people's lives. One thing I know now is that this profession is nothing more than another way God uses those who are weak-minded to carry out his purpose to bring glory to his name. Doctors are no greater any other profession; we are all instruments of our mighty God.
Let us "ascribe to the Lord the glory due to his name and worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness" (Psalm 29:2)!
Honor and power and praise to the Savior, for he is the Answer!
