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  • Writer's pictureJulian S. Miles

Are You ready?

As I sit in my hospital room I can see the traffic go back and forth down the street. I see the cars coming and going in the parking deck. If I look closely I can also see people getting gas across the street. I’ve been in the hospital for 5 days and when I got admitted, I was not prepared. I was in pain for about a week before I got here and I kept telling myself that it would just go away and that I would feel better soon. I even went to Urgent Care and they told me that it was nothing serious. When I couldn’t take the pain anymore, I finally came to the hospital and I have been here ever since.

“Most people that have waited at the hospital will tell you that it’s the waiting that gets to you.”
 You don’t know what’s happening, you don’t know what the tests mean. So you’re just sitting there. I waited for about 5 hours before I finally was told what was wrong with me. I really didn’t care at the moment, I just wanted to know if they could give me something that would make me feel better. A nurse led me back to a triage and told me to take my clothes off and put on a gown. From there, I was taken to get X-Rays and then a CT scan. I was given something called “contrast” and told that it would take about 7 minutes and that it would feel like I was urinating on myself but I wasn’t. It took 10 minutes, I did feel like I was urinating on myself and when I was finished I felt nauseous. I asked if I could have some water and I was told no, in case you need surgery! Surgery! What do you mean? I didn’t say that out loud because I was in pain, exhausted and scared just a little bit. But you know what was the scary part? Wondering if God was pleased with me? Wondering if what I had done up until that point was enough? Had I loved enough? Forgiven enough? Given enough?

The next thing that I thought about was how unprepared I was for this interruption to my life. In my work bag, I had my computer, Ipad, and cell phone and two books. In my purse I had a pack of chewing gum, Vaseline, 3 now and laters, body spray, lotion, my wallet, car keys, and pens. I didn’t have body wash, deodorant, underwear or anything else I would need to stay overnight anywhere. Thank goodness my children were with my family. Who was going to water my plants? What about the dishes I left in the sink? I hadn’t kissed my kids in a few weeks? Did I tell them I loved them last time we talked or was I preoccupied? Isn’t it funny how we don’t think of the important things until we are faced with the fact that we may not be able to return to them? Isn’t this like our relationship with God? We don’t have time to study, we don’t have time to go to church, we don’t have time to do what the bible says, but when faced with a problem, He suddenly becomes our go-to person?

As I lay there in the bed alone, hearing the hum of the IV machine and the thump of my heartbeat, all I could think about was how many times I took my health for granted. I would say, “Oh, I need to quit this or that, or I need to start doing this or that” never being INTENTIONAL about taking care of my body. I was unprepared. It’s also funny how when the doctor starts asking us questions about our lives we start becoming embarrassed, worrying about their judgement, never thinking about the judgement of GOD every single day that we disobey him by not honoring our bodies. 1 Cor 6:19-20 says, “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were bought at a price, therefore honor God with your bodies.”
And here I was worried about what the doctor would think, not realizing that I was dishonoring God by not taking care of my body, mind and spirit.

Romans 14:11 says, “It is written: As surely as I live, says the Lord, every knee will bow before me, every tongue will acknowledge God. So then, each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.”
Are you ready to answer to God?
Are you ready to defend yourself to fornication?
Are you ready to explain to him while you are still cussing like a sailor and gossiping about others and not being kind?
Are you ready to explain to him why you are listening to music that degrades men and women and does not glorify him?
Most importantly are you ready to tell him why you aren’t being obedient to his word? These are the questions that I asked myself?

I used to be that person that picked and chose what I wanted to believe from the bible. Yep, that was me. “I mean I try not to curse, but it’s hard. I mean everyone is having sex, it can’t be that wrong.” What does “that” wrong mean? Do you see where sex before marriage got you? Taking care of three children!!
This time in the hospital showed me how I wasn’t preparing for eternity like I thought that I was. Had I been obedient as the Lord had told me and written my book? (nope, not quite) I’m busy Lord, I have to work, what am I supposed to do? Faith don’t pay the bills, Lord.

“Well Julian, I put the words in you, I will give you what you need to get them out, But are you asking me for guidance, or still trying to do it on your own. Do you not know that I am your provider? ME! Not your job. Not your friends. Not your bank account or savings account.”
Lord I just don’t have time to work out! You know how much traffic I have to sit in back and forth to work? “Julian, have you submitted your schedule to me and asked me to help you and guide you?”
I was not being intentional about my salvation and obedience. I was still foolishly trying to control my circumstances.

As I looked out the window 5 days later, the cool glass on my forehead was the only barrier between me and the outside world. I could have been anywhere. Jail, mental institution, held hostage. We simply don’t miss our freedom to choose until it’s taken away from us. I missed the wind on my face. The smell of morning. The songs that the birds sang. I missed being able to let my windows down and feel the sun on my skin. I missed hearing the sounds of the city waking up to go to work.
I knew that I had to get ready if I wasn’t ready.
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