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The word this week is fight.
Last night, I was talking to a co-worker as we were setting up rooms for surgery. I was telling her stories of old, the days of starting out in the OR, when the job was so hard it was a fight to learn and be respected. I told her how I handled my life before Jesus, how I would fight with co-workers who thought they were better than me by virtue of experience, fight for respect, fight for equality, fight for sanity.
It wasn’t pretty, the old days. I cried everyday for the first five years I worked in the OR. I don’t know how I survived the fight except for the Lord must have really wanted me to be an OR nurse. What other explanation can there be? It doesn’t even matter that I was completely ignoring him then. God’s plans are God’s plans. He put the fight in me.
But now? I don’t have to fight anymore. All the little things that hurt my pride so long ago don’t matter. I go to work in peace. How? I know something now I didn’t know then.
The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.
I met Jesus 8 years ago. I gave up the fight. I stood and watched The Lord fight. And respect, equality, and sanity came in the silence.