Made for This

It was supposed to be a time of rejoicing for Dorothy Fletcher. The 67 year old woman was flying from her home in Liverpool to Florida to attend her daughter’s wedding. Unfortunately, while the plane was en route, Mrs. Fletcher began experiencing severe chest pain and other symptoms of a heart attack. Fellow passengers notified the flight crew who put out a desperate plea: Are there any doctors on board? You can imagine the reaction of the flight attendants when, in response to their plea, fifteen doctors stood up and came to the woman’s assistance. As it turns out, all fifteen were cardiologists on their way to a conference. By happy coincidence (or something else entirely), they had all boarded the same flight as the woman who now depended on their knowledge, skill, and experience, for her very life. The story ends well. Dorothy spent a few days in a hospital in Charlotte, but emerged well and healthy. These “right place, right time” doctors had been prepared and trained for exactly this kind of need, but it is likely they hadn’t anticipated they would be putting their training to work in an airplane at 35,000 feet.

For the last few weeks I have been moping about, frustrated by the disruption of my routine, concerned for the sick and infected people around me, concerned also for those not sick but still suffering from the economic and emotional fallout of this crisis. I’ve vented to friends and acquaintances, and posted rants on Facebook, caught up in the controversy and the debate. Until this morning, I had not seriously considered the possibility that I was not called to vent but to serve. To be a light. To be a source of comfort and hope. In short, that I, like the doctors on that plane, have been prepared for this moment. More accurately, I was made for it. We all have been, who claim Christ as our Guide and Redeemer.

The Church today should be a modern day Joseph, offering compassion, comfort, sustenance, lodging, and support to our hurting communities—especially to those elements who have scorned or ill-treated us in the past as Joseph’s brothers did. The Church today should serve as a modern day Moses, standing against the evil one and declaring as the mouthpiece of God, “Let My people go”, then leading the exiles out into the desert and onto the pathway home. The Church today should lead in a crisis as Paul did during that shipwreck, when he led everyone (including his captors) safely to shore so that none were lost.

And by the “Church” I mean “me.” I was made to serve, in the name of Christ, not to complain or debate. Having been comforted, I’ve been made a comforter. Having been rescued, I am made a rescuer. Having been encouraged, I am to be an encourager. Having been made new, I am called to walk in newness of life. Yes, even in a crisis. Especially in a crisis.

I was made to care. I was made to comfort. I was made to lead. I was made to intercede. This has been a long flight home—56 years and counting—but I’m sharing this journey with countless others—people and needs. By design, I and my fellow believing passengers have been equipped with knowledge, skills, and experience, to intervene on behalf of others. All that’s missing is the heart—except, I was given a new one of those, too. This is a calling. This is a mission.

I was made for this.