Fleshly Fixation

(I’m spending some time with my parents while my mother recovers from surgery. For a time, my blogs will reflect life as it is right now—different.)

With doctors and nurses and people all around me who tell me what they do by using acronyms—I’m a CRNAA, a Certified Registered Nurse & Anesthesiologist Assistant—there are all sorts of relational nuances and demands to navigate. Further, the staff at the hospital is the epitome of racial integration, with accents and cultural distinctions all over the place. I’ve never heard my parents say “What?! What did you say?” so much in my life, so I’m alert at all times, interpreting for them as best I can. “He said ‘you’re going to be fine,’ mother…”

When my mother was just waking up from the anesthesia, she was, of course, groggy and a little disconnected. While the nurses and my father and I told her it was because of the anesthesia and not to worry several times, she was still frustrated. Finally I said something that seemed to calm her: “Mother, you’ve become a liberal.” “What?! What do you mean?” said my conservative mom. “Well,” I replied, “you’ve got a great heart, but not much of a brain.” She laughed out loud and that was the end of it.

What I’ve found personally is that I easily become fixated upon what I should be for people, rather than upon Jesus, who is everything for them already. And He lives in me—ready and able at every moment. I love sowing to the Spirit, who then manifests the power and life of Jesus, the very thing those people need. But in the need of the moment, I sometimes attempt to live by the flesh, rather than by the Spirit. That’s no way to live, neither is it a good way to give people what they need.

And I notice that I reach fatigue far sooner when I live by the flesh, rather than by the Spirit. His yoke is easy, His burden light, and that’s what I want today and what fits me perfectly.