a fading art

I haven’t practiced as a bedside intensive care nurse in almost three years. I’m terribly rusty. I can hardly remember simple terms for procedures. Once I found myself stumbling for the term for a “spinal tap,” and it took me embarrassingly long to recall “lumbar puncture.” Ugh.

I’m no longer in that environment on a regular and routine basis, reading the charts, following orders, hearing the language that I could understand and speak without hesitation. Now I’m fumbling and tripping over myself as I try to remember and recall what used to be basics. If you don’t believe me, just ask my sister. She’s in her last year of nursing school and frequently calls me with questions. Can I answer them? Rarely. (Sorry, sister.)

Recently, I’m realizing that nursing is not my only fading art.

I used to be a part of a community where the gospel was rich. Weekly we gathered to speak the truth of the gospel into each other’s lives. I worked, played, and worshiped with the same group of people. I’ve reflected on the rarity of that before, unfortunately not realizing that rarity until it was no longer my normal. At that same time, in my own personal life, I was in the word, SOARing through passages because I loved it, observing and admiring what the Lord would reveal in my observations and questions.

We have been in Philadelphia for almost three years. We have a church home where the gospel is real and true. But within my community, it still isn’t rich. I hesitate to even say so because the statement implies that I’m pointing my finger at others around me. No, I am not pointing outward. That other fading art I eluded to? It’s me; it’s my love of the gospel. I’m not in the word, SOARing through passages.

When I try to speak the language of the gospel, I’m fumbling and tripping over myself as I try to remember and recall what used to be basics.

I am still a nurse, but I am not engaged in nursing right now. I am still a Christ-follower, but I am not engaged in everything that it means to be a Christ-follower. I am lazy with opening my Bible and even lazier when it comes to actually reading something in it. The largest exception is the Jesus Storybook Bible, which I read every night with the girls. The gospel is not absent from my life, but my current immersion in it is shallow. The waves of its truth are not washing over me, and the pools of its grace are not bathing me daily. When I try to speak of its goodness to others, especially my children, I am often without words because the sweet song of the gospel is not overflowing from my heart to my lips.

I want to teach my girls to love the gospel. I am only a hypocrite if I try to do so without first loving it myself.

If I can fit six or so miles into my morning three times a week, surely I can dig into the richness of the gospel at least once or twice a week. I miss speaking the language of what was once so familiar and rich in my life.

(Interestingly enough, here's what I wrote two years ago to the date on my blog.)


  1. I hear you loud and clear!!!! The season of mothering little children pushes you to places that you thought you could avoid. I hope you have tapped into all the blog posts and book by Rachel Janovic - very gospel centered and encouraging for this stage of life! Also, it goes against my anti-tech grain but I have the daily lectionary sent to my phone each morning - includes 2 psalms, a gospel reading, an OT reading and NT reading. All very brief overall. Been a lifesaver for me. . .though I think in this phase of life we live somewhat off a savings account of the deeper work we did before... . .but I also think that certain aspects to our community could be better utilized for greater spiritual nourishment.


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