For Our Good

Me and hospitals have always had a bad relationship. Really bad. It's the smell. The clinical nature. The fact that there is the possibility of seeing blood while simply walking round minding your own business. The death. The sadness. The separation. Yep, I really, really do detest them. However, despite my total disdain of the places, I haven't done particularly well in avoiding them. It's where I began my life. Then, being the oldest child I had to go and visit my siblings one by one as they were born in those sterile institutions. Then the doctor decided I'd bent in feet and so I seemed to spend a lot of time trying to get them fixed which was a total waste of time. My Mum was ill and had to go for testing for two whole weeks, which meant daily visits and my Gran was in hospital for pretty much a year which also required visits. And that's only half of it, there's been visits to casualty, the very sound of the word which is enough to send shivers down my back.

So, me and hospitals don't get on well. At all.

Thankfully of late we'd not had many dealings. However, a few weeks back a letter came. A letter with that brightly coloured hospital heading. The sort of letter that's meant to make you feel relaxed and happy, knowing that your now safe in the hands of your local hospital. The sort of letter which makes me physically feel ill. I stuck it on the fridge and put a pretty postcard over it. And dreaded the day.

I arrived at the hospital. And waited. My ever patient husband who spent a significant part of his childhood going to hospitals came too, somewhat bemused as to how the waiting room can cause such stress. It's the posters. I always imagine I've developed every condition the posters talk about. And the kidney dishes. Seriously, why do nurses need to constantly carry them about?!

After waiting for a decade or so 15 minutes my name was called. The nurse greeted me like this was some sort of pleasant social call I was making and I went into the room. The room with the medical apparatus and the couch. The couch. It was at that stage I lost it. Tears streamed down my face. You see the thing in the hospital that terrifies me the most is that couch. To me it represents terrible, life threatening illness. In my world you jump up on that couch and next thing your told you've got some horrible incurable illness. Irrational? Totally. Unfounded? Completely. Stupid? Without a doubt. 

I've been back at work for a good while now. Without any serious life threatening condition. I've had time to ponder my visit and all my irrational fears. That is what they are, irrational. I know deep down in my self that when there is something wrong the hospital is the best place to be. The Doctors and Nurses are the people who know what is the best for me. They have absolutely no desire whatsoever to hurt me. In fact the health care I received yesterday was top notch. The staff were wonderful; lovely and patient and in all honesty I couldn't have had a more positive experience of the NHS.

In life this is often the way I react as well. I have been been able to rhyme off Romans 8:28 "All things work together for good for those that love God" since I was a tiny little girl. However as life passes by sometimes it's harder to accept. I kick and scream at God and His plans for life. I know that He is sovereign and all in control and only wants the very best for me. In the same way in order to get better we have to pass through the unpleasantness of hospital, in order to fulfil Gods perfect plan for our lives, at times we have to pass through hard times, instances that we would never ever have wanted to go through. God brings us through such times because He loves us and ultimately it is what is best for us. This side of heaven we may never understand the purpose of being brought through things that we detest but we need to trust that what He is doing isn't for no reason but rather for our good.

God only gives good gifts. Even if we don't understand what is good about them. May we fully grasp and ponder the words of Luke ch 11 v11, as we face seemingly difficult providences:

    "What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” ( ESV)