His Marks

His Marks 

Everyday, prior to opening the doors of my place of employment, I say a quick prayer and it goes something like this; "Dear Lord, be with me every step of the way, speak through me, guide me, protect me and help me show them who you are throughout my day."  Sometimes I say this prayer in my car before I escape it's protection and often times as I walk to the building. Either way, I do not feel I could do my job without asking for help each morning.  As I enter my office, I take a deep breath and begin.  The phone rings and I hear their voices.  I converse with terminally ill people and their families all day long, eight often times nine hours a day.  

I do not see their faces, their expressions, their frail bodies nor do I see the conditions in which they are living, but I hear their voices.  Some of the people to whom I speak with are living in pure fear, anxiety, anger and often times feel the betrayal by their loved ones and by their God.   

I listen.

Some people I talk to throughout my day are those living with hope, gentleness and patience of what to come in their end days.

I listen.

Each day I converse with many different people from many different backgrounds, of many different races, culture and socio-economic status and with various emotions from bouts of yelling, crying and to often times, words of gratefulness and wisdom from those that are dying.  I try to place myself in their shoes, but ultimately, I cannot.  They are experiencing a life altering, life changing, and end to their life here on earth.  I am not them and I do not pretend to be, but I do... listen. 

When I leave those doors each day I am emotionally exhausted.  My emotions are usually all over the place ranging from anger to sadness.  Sometimes I spiral out of control when I arrive home often times placing those emotions onto my family.  They do not understand, but they listen.  

All of the people that I speak with each day are transitioning from the conflict of what has been known on this earth and the dying to self to the coming into the unknown, the full communion with Christ. They are learning to fully surrender themselves to Christ to the gateway of heaven. And in this deliverance into the gateway of heaven the gravity of earth and all of the earthy memories are playing tug of war with them and their loved ones.  

I listen.

As I enter into my work place asking God to help me to help them, I leave thanking God for them actually helping me.  Each day God placed a mark on me by each of the people I encountered by conversation.  I rarely end a phone conversation without someone giving me 'words of wisdom' and blessings. They are dying to self and prayer is their only priority.  They have become totally dependent on God. 

The people that I encounter remind me of the Cheetah.  Often times they are swift in to kill in their harsh words with me and in other times graceful in their strength to surrender.  The strength and the majestic marks of the Cheetah also remind me of what God gives us each day.  He gives us gentleness, patience, humility, compassion, and kindness and he is swift to come to our aid granting us protection and strength to our day.    It is in the course of prayer that we learn the true state of things-that we are dependent upon God.

The marks on Christ after his Crucifixion places a mark on us.  This mark is a constant reminder of his love for us.  

The mark on Christ is a mark of true surrender.

James 4:7-8 "So then, submit yourselves to God.  Resist the Devil, and he will run away from you.  Come near to God and he will come near to you."