This morning I had just gotten back from shift report when my desk phone and my cell phone began to ring at almost the same moment. There was an emergent need; a patient who was being rushed to a critical surgery had requested prayer, and we only had a moment.
I hurried upstairs and arrived on the floor, heading for the patient’s room, but the nurse pointed the other way. “She’s in the elevator–they are already taking her down.”
I skidding around the corner and caught up with the team and stepped into the elevator with them as the doors started to close. Looking into the patient’s eyes (sweet, beautiful brown eyes they were, too), I introduced myself and asked if I could pray with her.
As the elevator descended, the four of us found a gentle moment of absolute calm, tender reassurance, a breath of knowing that God was truly traveling with us, always in love, always with a plan, always faithful.
So often in life we think “being faithful” is some kind of ideal that we live up to when we are being our best selves. Brushed and polished for Sunday morning; prayed up and in a good mood and putting on our best faces. But so often for me, God is unmistakably and so lovingly present in the messy moments, adoring all his children, helping us skid breathlessly into elevators on the wings of grace.