Only a few months old and about to undergo a significant treatment, my tiny patient squirmed tearfully in the arms of a stranger. No parents in sight, a hospital staff member had been assigned to hold her during this painless, yet uncomfortable procedure.
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room glared down upon this sweet baby, and the television had been turned to a loudly obnoxious cartoon channel in hopes of distracting her. In his loud, authoritative voice, the attending physician rattled off confirmation of the patient's labs, medical condition, and procedure that was about to take place. Then, he looked at me and said, "I'm afraid this isn't going to go well."
As the clinical pharmacist, I had been asked to assist in monitoring the patient's blood pressure at the bedside during this treatment and to dose the appropriate medications if needed to help control it. As the baby began to scream louder and louder, I prayed silently Jesus, please change the atmosphere. Please calm this sweet baby so that this procedure will go well. I knew that her anxiety and crying would increase her blood pressure, and things would quickly spiral down hill.
Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the loud television, the bright lights, and the booming voices that surrounded this tiny patient. I knew I could literally help change the atmosphere by turning down the lights, turning off the television, and speaking more softly to my colleagues. So I did. But the baby continued to cry.
I pulled out my phone and started to search through my playlists, while explaining to my colleagues that I had an idea that might help calm our patient. When I pushed "play," the song that began softly filling the room wasn't a child's lullaby, it wasn't a mellow country song. It was worship. Songs of freedom filled the room as the Bethel worship soundtrack played on.
I glanced around the room to see if any of my colleagues took particular notice (especially a particular team member who has made it clear to me that he is "not the praying type.") The only effect I saw as worship music filled the air was softened gazes, one person slightly swaying to the music, peaceful expressions, and.... a sleeping baby!
Jesus changes atmospheres.
When we invite him into our noisy, chaotic situations and let him fill our space, he replaces anxiety and fear with peace. He may not take us out of our situation, but he dims the bright lights, quiets the harsh voices, and calms our spirits. Sometimes all we need to do is ask. And listen.
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room glared down upon this sweet baby, and the television had been turned to a loudly obnoxious cartoon channel in hopes of distracting her. In his loud, authoritative voice, the attending physician rattled off confirmation of the patient's labs, medical condition, and procedure that was about to take place. Then, he looked at me and said, "I'm afraid this isn't going to go well."
As the clinical pharmacist, I had been asked to assist in monitoring the patient's blood pressure at the bedside during this treatment and to dose the appropriate medications if needed to help control it. As the baby began to scream louder and louder, I prayed silently Jesus, please change the atmosphere. Please calm this sweet baby so that this procedure will go well. I knew that her anxiety and crying would increase her blood pressure, and things would quickly spiral down hill.
Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the loud television, the bright lights, and the booming voices that surrounded this tiny patient. I knew I could literally help change the atmosphere by turning down the lights, turning off the television, and speaking more softly to my colleagues. So I did. But the baby continued to cry.
I pulled out my phone and started to search through my playlists, while explaining to my colleagues that I had an idea that might help calm our patient. When I pushed "play," the song that began softly filling the room wasn't a child's lullaby, it wasn't a mellow country song. It was worship. Songs of freedom filled the room as the Bethel worship soundtrack played on.
I glanced around the room to see if any of my colleagues took particular notice (especially a particular team member who has made it clear to me that he is "not the praying type.") The only effect I saw as worship music filled the air was softened gazes, one person slightly swaying to the music, peaceful expressions, and.... a sleeping baby!
Jesus changes atmospheres.
When we invite him into our noisy, chaotic situations and let him fill our space, he replaces anxiety and fear with peace. He may not take us out of our situation, but he dims the bright lights, quiets the harsh voices, and calms our spirits. Sometimes all we need to do is ask. And listen.
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