I live near a hospital.
Like, I can see-it-from-my-front-porch kind of near. We’re far enough to still be a quaint little neighborhood, but anytime that helicopter takes off… our house shakes. We don’t have earthquakes in West Virginia but we do have low flying helicopters. I’m writing this while on my porch and there have been four come through within the hour. It’s kind of like when people live near train tracks. They’re accustomed to the nuisance. That’s how we feel about the landing pad situation in our front yard.
Some friends of ours were thinking about buying a house down the street from us and their one question was, “Do the helicopters bother you? Can you sleep at night?” First of all, I have a baby so no, I don’t sleep at night. Then I really considered the question. For the first time since moving to this neighborhood I wondered about the people on those helicopters.
You see, if you’re brought to a hospital by air the situation is critical. I had no idea how often it happened until I moved this close. Some days, there are 20+ landings and outgoing flights. Many of the people on those helicopters are in desperate need of peace and healing, and here I am talking with my soon to be neighbors about the mild inconvenience of a 30 second takeoff. That’s where my pride came roaring to the surface.
All this time, God has offered me the honor of praying for strangers who I know are in distress. For their families who are following slowly behind on land, trying to make it safely and quickly to be with their loved one wherever they are headed. For the medical staff, so incredibly good at their craft to work in a critical environment. For the pilot, tasked at transporting such precious cargo. I could have been interceding on behalf of these people, yet I found myself wondering how many more times will my house shake today?
God’s been teaching me about prayer lately. Not just the importance of prayer, but why and how we should pray. Does God need our prayers? No – he already knows what we need. But He wants us to ask, seek, and knock so He can bless us in answering (Matthew 6).
I am keenly aware of my pride since becoming a mother. I want my daughter to know the importance of loving your neighbor as yourself. That’s our second greatest commandment, for the love. I know it seems silly – to be talking about helicopters here – but I’m telling you, God used this to change the way I approach the world. I’m more open to see situations for what they are, not what they do to me. Is there something in your life that you see everyday? Maybe so often you don’t even notice it anymore. The same family who walks their dog in your neighborhood every night. That song on the radio every single time you get in the car. A phrase you hear over and over. Pay attention to those things. God is trying to teach you something.
Now when I see a helicopter, I stop to pray. A simple prayer of peace and healing. That God would have his way in their lives and ours, His Kingdom come. A prayer of thanksgiving and supplication to His refining grace.
I have a tendency of making everyday things spiritual. But I’ve prayed for this. I’ve asked God to reveal himself in the mundane, and even in my failure and pride. It is not fun to stand face to face with your sin and privilege. But THAT is where growth endures. It’s sanctifying. Slowly you start to look less like yourself and more like Jesus.
We will never be perfect but we are offered the solace of a perfect Savior. Will you let that be enough for you today? Pray for revelation and refining, a Kingdom perspective, and eyes to see the story you’ve been invited to live.
Let it be so.
olivia meade 