On Having a Life

Genesis 6:6

The Lord regretted making human beings on the earth, and his heart was grieved.

Being a spiritual man entails being consciously sensitive to the subtle promptings of the human heart. Many people go through life without finding the Spirit that dwells in their inner man, the God who draws men to Himself through the deepest desires of communion and purpose. My journey with God’s Spirit led me to family medicine, which I like to think about not as a specialty, but as a way of life. An ethos so deeply engraved in those who embrace it that it finds expression in every root of their existence. It is a pattern of thought that shapes our identity perhaps more than our vocation. And profoundly over time, I have become conscious of Christ’s transformative power that manifests when we embrace this path.

Even though God created us to mirror His authority on the earth, He never gives up even when we fall way below His expectations. I am perplexed and heartbroken that in Genesis 6:6, man’s identity deviated so far away from God’s intended purpose that he regretted His creation venture. And yet instead of abandoning it altogether, He still undertook a redemptive path through Christ that would take thousands of years to realize. It is this "stubborn" optimism of seeing things as they should be rather than the way they are that shapes family medicine’s quest for Shalom. The quest to see the essence of men reconciled with that of God in every aspect of life.

Working in the medical wards of a mission hospital in the last few months has helped shape my understanding of health and wellness. I have observed the death process often enough to understand its inevitably. But through this, I have learned that there is always something to offer even when there is nothing left to offer. A few weeks ago, for instance, I managed a patient with a newly diagnosed HIV infection who declined most of the treatment we offered. Within a short time, she quickly deteriorated and every team member was visibly frustrated by her refusal of care. I remember walking to her bed one morning and offering to pray with her, not knowing how she would react. From her response, I could tell she had been waiting for such a moment. She referred to me as her son and obliged, and in that moment of vulnerability, I saw her in a different light. She was so shattered by the diagnosis that all she needed was reassurance that her world would not fall apart. Her greatest need at this point was not a pill but her family and her God. But in sheer hopelessness, she was lost on how to express this desire which manifested as sheer rebellion.

Despite tens of people visiting her weekly, I could tell how lonely she felt. She had to hide a diagnosis and state of heart from them all. But among all these relatives and friends, she seemed to trust her daughter enough to only disclose her diagnosis to her. June* was her mother's last remaining hope, and day after day, I saw her daughter fight for her. She supported her mother in all the ways we requested, many times, in isolation. I vividly remember a conversation between one of my family medicine consultants and June. Instead of requesting her to finance an aspect of her care, He simply asked her, “How are you feeling?” Initially, she thought she was being asked about her mother, but the doctor insisted, “No, I am asking about you.” The long pause that followed said it all. You could tell how overwhelmed she was by the burden of being the only family member around who knew her diagnosis and financed her care. We could tell she was in the gasp of provider fatigue. “We want you to know we are willing to also offer you help,” the doctor reassured. I was truly inspired by this gesture. True to our name, it is this awareness that family is an integral part of the disease complex that makes us family doctors. In fact, offering June constant updates, encouragement, and support became the most essential and fulfilling part of her mother’s management. And when her mom eventually passed on, we shared in her grief as we had shared in her struggle when she was alive.

Indeed, I have seen patients who willingly choose the path of resignation and death and those whose lives are prematurely robbed despite fighting so vehemently. For over two months, we managed a seventeen-year-old with a strange neurological condition which left her perpetually in a state of altered consciousness. This girl who was set to sit for her end-of-secondary education exams this year, developed progressive neurological symptoms that left her virtually incapacitated for months. We considered multiple diagnoses, including meningitis, cerebral vasculitis, multiple sclerosis, and neuromyelitis optica, but her condition remained a mystery till the end. I remember when a senior family medicine resident was asked to present and discuss her case with the rest of the team. Instead of solely focusing on her clinical presentation, she spent time describing her childhood, education, faith, and character before developing the condition. With that, the session ceased to be about solving a difficult diagnostic puzzle but about helping a vibrant young lady in the infancy of her life restore her personhood. Still, despite offering the level-best care she eventually deteriorated and passed on. I remember walking into the female medical ward one Monday morning and finding her bed empty. No words can describe how tragic her death felt. The ward felt totally different without her. But amid thick darkness, I found comfort in the words the resident mentioned during the presentation, that she was a follower of Christ. Knowing in Him, death is not an end but a transition into our true purpose in eternity.

Romans 8: 8

And we know that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose.

In God, there is truly no justification to give up hope, no matter how devastating circumstances seem. Many times, the challenges I encountered on this path seemed so significant that I felt justified to give up. I remember recently having a meeting with one of my mentors when I felt incapable and resigned. For a moment, I had forgotten about God’s sustenance and power to keep me going. But he did remind me quite effectively. I remember his words pretty clearly, “Let’s do it one more time, but this time, let's do it by the Book (Bible).” His words were a reminder of how God has consistently failed to give up on me. Indeed, Satan fights for men, but so does God. I have consistently seen my team do everything to ensure I do not fail. From weekly catch-up meetings with consultants to being offered countless growth opportunities. I remember how undeserving I felt being invited for dinner at the house of the Vice Principal of Global Health during my recent visit to the University of Edinburgh, Scotland. And how strange it felt when a Professor Emeritus of Primary Healthcare from the university sent me an email offering to work with me. So severe was the imposter syndrome I felt that I almost fell into depression. But God never gave up on me and neither did the people in my life. This is the persistence that I have repeatedly witnessed our humble specialty have toward the restoration of humanity. That a senior resident would ask the team to pray, not for the family, but for the departed soul of a patient who has just succumbed to severe diabetic ketoacidosis at casualty after an hour-long attempt of resuscitation.

Colossians 1:19-20

God was pleased for all of himself to live in Christ. And through Christ, God has brought all things back to himself again—things on earth and things in heaven. God made peace through the blood of Christ's death on the cross.

Having visited fifteen countries over the last year and having interacted with men from diverse people groups, I have constantly felt God’s burden to bring all humanity back to His intended design across all spheres. I am perpetually grateful that the Spirit of God led me to this path, to join Him in the ageless quest of restoring all things to Christ. God is not just interested in health, he is interested in wholeness and this often means different things to different people. To some, it involves being offered an antibiotic injection while to others, it is about offering psychological support during a difficult phase of life. I have visited countries that seemed so developed, and yet I could palpate the spiritual emptiness across their cities because there were no preachers to tell them about Jesus. And I have also visited countries with churches in every corner, and yet people still dwelt in abject poverty because there were no means to meet their needs. God is not just interested in raising preachers but in raising people who will reveal Christ in every sphere of society.

I looked for God in healthcare and I found Him. Through family medicine, I feel equipped to meet the diverse needs of people regardless of their age, gender, race, religion, and economic status. I am no longer threatened by difference and diversity, I embrace it. It is the generalism and holistic care that are so often overlooked that make family medicine so compelling for service. By His grace, we have become all things to all men, that we may win some to Christ.

1 Corinthians 9:22-23

22 To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. 23 I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.