These people come near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. Their worship of me is made up only of rules taught by men.We sat on the floor as people talked and laughed around us. Three nurses and a surgeon, calmly discussing miracles. Agreeing that, yes, we can go ahead and call Jitta one. Once more, wonder upon wonder.
Therefore once more I will astound these people with wonder upon wonder. (Isaiah 29:13)
I never want to get numb to it. At home, the question was always Do you ever stop caring? And they were talking about horrible things. About accidents and abuse and children dying right there in front of me. We were all just working away, it seemed, waiting for the day we didn't feel it anymore.
Here, it's the opposite. When I sit around with my coworkers and say I never want to get numb, I'm referring to miracles. Miracles that I've seen and am seeing and fully expect to go on seeing for as long as I'm alive. And I never want to stop recognizing them for what they are. God's hand reaching into this fallen world, taking something broken and setting it back into its proper place. A mother, tidying up her child's scattered toys. Only this is so much more than a doll being placed back on its shelf. This is Jitta, awake and looking around, with a brain that, by all accounts, works.
If the surgeon who spent all day with his hands on that brain says it was God's doing, I think I'll call it a miracle, too.
