Notes Along the Journey 05: To Serve and To Care

The inspiration for this particular blog comes from a marvelous work by Paul Kalanithi entitled “When Breath Becomes Air.” It is a very open and transparent book written by neurosurgeon Paul Kalanithi, who was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer in 2013 at the age of 36. He would die two years later while working on the book. For those interested in learning a little more about this incredible book, click this link for a brief overview from The Pulitzer Prizes web page: When Breath Becomes Air. I simply cannot recommend this book enough!!!

Now for the blog… Let’s start with the section that prompted my own ruminating early this morning while I was waiting for my grandson to wake up.

“Had the confirmation of my fears – in the CT scan, in the lab results, both showing not merely cancer but a body overwhelmed, nearing death – released me from the duty to serve, from my duty to patients, to neurosurgery, to the pursuit of goodness? Yes, I thought, and therein was the paradox: like a runner crossing the finish line only to collapse, without the duty to care for the ill pushing me forward, I became an invalid.” (p. 125… italic, bold emphases are my own)

Just a handful of thoughts that I wanted to record here (again, mainly for my own future reference):

• Invalid. One quick online search produced the following definition: “removed from active service because of injury or illness.” Straightforward. Simple to understand. And so tragic. In my mind, I became fixated on the final outcome as the starting point of consideration in this case. All the years of labor and effort seemingly washed away in the aftermath of his diagnosis. His sense of identity and purpose now forfeit. Not to overly parse the word, but I thought that in his mind he was now no longer “valid.” Obsolete. No longer active. Sidelined. Permanently from his vantage point and perspective. And sadly, it happened through no fault of his own. I am reminded this morning of the truth in the opening to Ecclesiastes, “Life is fleeting, like a passing mist.” Here today. And quite possibly gone tomorrow. Nothing is permanent and certain this side of eternity apart from the promise of eventual death. Some of us are granted decades. Others are granted only a handful of days. But none of us can avoid this certain appointment. Eventually, my life will be exhausted and all my longings regarding any form of “active” service will come to an end. Hence, the need and rising sense of urgency within me to maximize this season of my life and make the most of every moment that I am graciously given. One day I will become invalid. But today is not that day and so, with that awareness, I seize the day and embrace life to the fullest.
• Pushing me forward. I’ll be honest. At different points in my life I have been pushed forward by different things. The pursuit of pleasure. Personal insecurity. The desire for applause. Wanting to be accepted. Wanting to be loved. The longing to build a healthy marriage and family. Validation. Professional advancement. Educational attainment. Excellence. These are just a few of the catalysts during my almost 60 years here on this earth. Currently I must ask the honest question… What is pushing me forward as I draw closer to the twilight years of my journey? Where does my inspiration and motivation reside at the age of 57? What catalyzes me during those times and seasons when everything around me and everything within me is telling me to quit? Family. Faith. And thoughts regarding the future. To be more specific, my grandson and the world I will leave behind once I depart it. I think often of how I will be remembered and the manner in which I currently live. I want my legacy to be one of grace, gratitude, and generosity. And my prayer is that in the years I have remaining, whether they be measured in decades or days, those 3 components will be the priorities that keep pushing me forward.
• Duty to serve… AND… duty to care. Serving seems straightforward. But I wrestled more with the idea of caring this morning. What does it mean to care? In the margin of the book, I scribbled a short note: Care… It is and should be BOTH a noun and a verb; something I “feel” and something I “do.” If I would serve, the best foundation is one built on love and compassion. I serve because I care. And if I genuinely care, then I will serve. I care; therefore, I serve.

Speaking for myself, in this brief section, the author defined his sense of duty, both to serve and care, as the catalyst that pushed him forward. In the absence of being able to actively embrace this foundation stone of his identity, he felt himself an invalid, disqualified from the previous theater of his purpose. That makes sense to me, especially in this season of my life. I believe in compassion, and I believe strongly in active service that flows from that compassion. That’s not to say I’m perfect or have it all together. Far from it. The struggle against laziness and indifference haunts me even into my late 50s. All of which begs the closing question… During those times when caring seems distant and apathy has seized the throne, will I continue to serve in the hope and expectation that duty will reignite the passion?

I look at my current volunteer portfolio and realize that right now I am filled with a strong sense of purpose and passion. ONE, UN Volunteers, GLOWA in Cameroon, ERONet in Uganda… I do not lack for opportunities to serve in a manner that aligns with my core principles. I am actively reaching out to volunteer and serve grassroots, local initiatives that are impacting people in places I will probably never see. For some reason, Africa has been at the heart of that longing since I was a teenager. And although I have never once set foot on that continent, I am making a difference there, even if it is through the smallest of roles. Years ago, I walked away from over 2 decades of “professional pulpit ministry” because I believed God had a new direction for my life. For the next decade+, I would pursue a path of “reinvention” that included transitioning to full-time secular employment, returning to college in my mid-40s, and knocking on every door of possible global service that I could find. It took me well over a decade to finally get to this point. All in all it was a lot of hard work; countless hours of research, reading, and study; and more persistence and patience than I ever imagined I had within me. And while I am filled with gratitude for this current season (while hoping that it is perhaps only the beginning of something more reaching), I also recognize the fragile nature of life and my own intentions. My longing is that this will not just be some temporary “fad” that is abandoned in the near future. But as my God wills and allows, my desire is that these days will be maintained and that I will fully maximize these incredible opportunities I have been granted. I have a duty to serve, and I have a duty to care. May they continue to push me forward to be able to leave behind a legacy of grace, gratitude, and generosity for my grandson, my family, and those who might follow in my steps.

“Now then, give me this hill country about which the LORD spoke on that day…” ~ Joshua 14:12