Night Shift

I work the night shift. I get here at 11:00 pm, and I don't leave until 7 in the morning. There are doctors and nurses, and clerks, and radiologists, all kinds of folks. We don't sleep like normal people. We drink too much coffee, and talk too much trash, and are a little kinder than the day and afternoon shift. I think that's because we all understand that you never get use to it. You always feel a little tired, and out of time.

God works the night shift, too. I've seen it. While nurses pad around in soft shoes, God dispenses healing, here and there. Sometimes, he'll take a person Home. Sometimes, he'll bless a visitor, worried sick, with a bit of sleep--a respite from the long day.

But, He doesn't just work the night shift here in the emergency room. He works it all over the world, singing sweet lullabyes into ears, whispering His love to the broken in spirit. He heals us while we sleep, and the depressed wake up with a little more hope, and the worried with a little more faith. Sometimes, we go to sleep in pieces, and while we were sleeping, he has knit us back together, bone by bone, muscle by muscle, bleeding heart and all.

Sometimes, I am fortunate, and I end my shift at the check-in desk. This is right in front of the main ER entrance. The last time I worked there, I sat, amid the laughter of nurses who'd worked way too hard, for too little recognition, and I interuppted the cozy chatter with this:

"Ladies, look outside. If you needed a new mercy, there it is with the rising of the sun. That's what the Bible says."

And for a moment we were all quiet. We were smitten by this new born sun, full of mercy and compassion. I think we all took our mercies, applied them where we needed them, and thanked God. 'Cause who doesn't need a new mercy every day?

I left work with my load a lot lighter, because even when I'm awake, and working, God still works the night shift for me.

And He does it for you, too.

From a brand new mercy,
raga d