Letting Go

It’s the worst part of the physical examination if you’re a pediatrician or a mom. You’ve done everything else. You’ve listened to the lungs and heart, the belly has been palpated, you’ve checked the skin and everything it entails. You’ve made your way back up to the head. Eyes – check. Nose – check. Even the ears weren’t a struggle.

Then you get to the mouth. And world war three begins.

The mom tries to help. Come on, Johnny, open your mouth, let the doctor check your throat. It’s like talking to a wall. You can’t skip that part. The kid’s got a fever and sore throat. You’ve got to take a look. A million things could be wrong. Or not. But you just have to see to know.

So you beg, you coax, you cajole, you negotiate, you bribe, and you threaten. The kid doesn’t budge. His teeth are clenched tight. His jaw’s starting to turn blue from the pressure.

And you do what you know you’ve got to do. You grab one of your techs, sometimes two, and you do it anyway.

I love being a pediatrician.

In one way or the other I look at every single throat of every single child.

Some are easy. The kid’s pleasant and friendly. I ask him to show me his tonsils, and done. Easy does it. He gets a popsicle. Mom smiles. I secretly rejoice and reinforce the good behavior.

But some are hard. And just because some kids are stubborn or afraid doesn’t make me change the plan. I know that looking at their throat will ultimately make them better. I know that checking the tonsils is not an option. And I’ll go to any extreme to get it done.

It sounds ridiculous because it seems so obvious, but I’ve done the same thing with God. He asks me to let go. Just open your hand. Just give it to me. You don’t need it. You’re better off without it. It’s making you sick. I just need to see. Unclench your fingers. Trust me. I know what’s good for you.

But my knuckles turn white, my hand starts to cramp. It’s God against me. I don’t care what the cost. He pulls in the Holy Spirit and the Son. Now it’s three against one. I don’t stand a chance.

And then it’s done.

I’m learning to trust that what’s in my heart is more important than what’s in my hand. I’m learning to let go – the easy way.

His plan is for my good. I’m beginning to see. I can give him my treasure without a fear in my heart nor a doubt in my mind.

After all’s said and done, the reason you see, is that He loves you and me.

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