Navigating Faith, Frustration, and Illumination in the ICU
Navigating Faith, Frustration, and Illumination in the ICU
My dad was on day eight of his multi-hospital tour.
After his surgery, they sent him to the ICU simply because there were available beds. Three days later, he was still there, settled in a quiet, single room. None of us were complaining.
Throughout the day, his nurse worked feverishly to get him moved out of the ICU, despite our insistence that we weren’t upset about the extended stay. As morning turned to afternoon, my patience turned to frustration.
It became clear that her priority was less about my dad’s well-being and more about moving her two patients out of the ICU as quickly as possible. Since his room was directly across from the nurse’s station, we overheard everything—including a heated phone call where she yelled at someone over the situation.
When she finally hung up, she entered our room, flustered, and explained an administrative mishap. The bed she had arranged for my dad was no longer available, meaning he would be staying in the ICU after all.
Because I don’t always know when to keep my mouth shut, I may have sarcastically mentioned that “the prayers of the righteous had been answered.”
Listen, I believe in the power of prayer. I know miracles happen. But this? This was not one of those moments. This was me being a smart a**.
Immediately, the nurse stopped what she was doing and asked where we went to church. My parents answered, and before I could stop myself, I mentioned I was an author who writes about church. I should really learn when to keep my flippin’ mouth shut.
She eagerly asked what I wrote about, and as soon as I explained, she launched into a passionate monologue about her church—the same kind I grew up in, the same kind that dealt out spiritual abuse and religious trauma.
I did my best to keep my face neutral and my mouth shut as she unknowingly hit every single trigger I have. By the time she finally left, I think I was twitching. Dad and I just looked at each other before he burst into laughter, and I feigned banging my head against his hospital bed, relieved the conversation was over.
Except it wasn’t over.
Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash
A Sudden Shift in Treatment
Something changed after she learned we loved Jesus. Suddenly, this nurse—who hadn’t even bothered to learn my name—began treating us like royalty. It was jarring. The other ICU nurses had been warm and kind all along, but now, she had joined the ranks as if she had unlocked a new level of hospitality.
At first, I thought I was just being overly sensitive, misreading the situation. But after several hours, I finally asked Dad if he noticed it too. Before I could even finish my sentence, he was already nodding in agreement.
That’s when Luke 11 came to mind.
The Condition of Our Hearts
Luke tells a story in chapter 11 where Jesus heals a mute man. The crowd’s reaction was divided—some praised Jesus as the Messiah, while others accused him of getting his power from Satan. Jesus, aware of their thoughts, responded with wisdom before concluding with this:
"No one lights a lamp and hides it in a basement where no one will benefit. A lamp belongs on a lampstand, where all who enter may see its light. The eyes of your spirit allow revelation-light to enter into your being. When your heart is open, the light floods in. But when your heart is hard and closed, the light cannot penetrate, and darkness takes its place. Open your heart and consider my words. Watch out that you do not mistake your opinions for revelation-light! If your spirit burns with light, fully illuminated with no trace of darkness, you will be a shining lamp, reflecting rays of truth by the way you live." — Luke 11:33-36 (TPT)
Jesus doesn’t mince words about the state of our hearts:
When our hearts are open, the light floods in.
When our hearts are closed, darkness takes its place.
Open your heart and listen to His words.
Don’t mistake opinions for revelation-light.
What are the signs of a heart full of revelation-light?
You will be a shining lamp, reflecting truth by the way you live.
Navigating Faith, Frustration, and Illumination in the ICU
My dad was on day eight of his multi-hospital tour.
After his surgery, they sent him to the ICU simply because there were available beds. Three days later, he was still there, settled in a quiet, single room. None of us were complaining.
Throughout the day, his nurse worked feverishly to get him moved out of the ICU, despite our insistence that we weren’t upset about the extended stay. As morning turned to afternoon, my patience turned to frustration.
It became clear that her priority was less about my dad’s well-being and more about moving her two patients out of the ICU as quickly as possible. Since his room was directly across from the nurse’s station, we overheard everything—including a heated phone call where she yelled at someone over the situation.
When she finally hung up, she entered our room, flustered, and explained an administrative mishap. The bed she had arranged for my dad was no longer available, meaning he would be staying in the ICU after all.
Because I don’t always know when to keep my mouth shut, I may have sarcastically mentioned that “the prayers of the righteous had been answered.”
Listen, I believe in the power of prayer. I know miracles happen. But this? This was not one of those moments. This was me being a smart a**.
Immediately, the nurse stopped what she was doing and asked where we went to church. My parents answered, and before I could stop myself, I mentioned I was an author who writes about church. I should really learn when to keep my flippin’ mouth shut.
She eagerly asked what I wrote about, and as soon as I explained, she launched into a passionate monologue about her church—the same kind I grew up in, the same kind that dealt out spiritual abuse and religious trauma.
I did my best to keep my face neutral and my mouth shut as she unknowingly hit every single trigger I have. By the time she finally left, I think I was twitching. Dad and I just looked at each other before he burst into laughter, and I feigned banging my head against his hospital bed, relieved the conversation was over.
A Sudden Shift in Treatment
Something changed after she learned we loved Jesus. Suddenly, this nurse—who hadn’t even bothered to learn my name—began treating us like royalty. It was jarring. The other ICU nurses had been warm and kind all along, but now, she had joined the ranks as if she had unlocked a new level of hospitality.
At first, I thought I was just being overly sensitive, misreading the situation. But after several hours, I finally asked Dad if he noticed it too. Before I could even finish my sentence, he was already nodding in agreement.
That’s when Luke 11 came to mind.
The Condition of Our Hearts
Luke tells a story in chapter 11 where Jesus heals a mute man. The crowd’s reaction was divided—some praised Jesus as the Messiah, while others accused him of getting his power from Satan. Jesus, aware of their thoughts, responded with wisdom before concluding with this:
"No one lights a lamp and hides it in a basement where no one will benefit. A lamp belongs on a lampstand, where all who enter may see its light. The eyes of your spirit allow revelation-light to enter into your being. When your heart is open, the light floods in. But when your heart is hard and closed, the light cannot penetrate, and darkness takes its place. Open your heart and consider my words. Watch out that you do not mistake your opinions for revelation-light! If your spirit burns with light, fully illuminated with no trace of darkness, you will be a shining lamp, reflecting rays of truth by the way you live." — Luke 11:33-36 (TPT)
Jesus doesn’t mince words about the state of our hearts:
When our hearts are open, the light floods in.
When our hearts are closed, darkness takes its place.
Open your heart and listen to His words.
Don’t mistake opinions for revelation-light.
What are the signs of a heart full of revelation-light?
You will be a shining lamp, reflecting truth by the way you live.
Photo by Jeet Dhanoa on Unsplash
Hate Disguised as Light
Our humanity is messy. We get things wrong—a lot. But Jesus’ illustration is a great litmus test. If we are truly walking in the light, our lives will shine. If we mistake opinions for revelation-light, darkness lingers.
This is a time for discernment, friends—not just in evaluating others but in examining ourselves.
Martin Luther King Jr. said it best: “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
When I think about living as a shining lamp, I think of this quote. Because here’s the truth:
Hate masquerading as theology is still hate.
Hate masquerading as policy is still hate.
Hate masquerading as efficiency is still hate.
Hate masquerading as love is still hate.
And hate? It’s darkness personified.
A Moment of Reflection
As I left the hospital that night, I found myself deep in thought—processing my past, my faith reconstruction, and the reality check I had just experienced.
Who would I have become if I had never deconstructed and rebuilt my faith?
Would I have been someone more concerned with doctrine, gender roles, and denominational traditions than with loving the least of these? Would I have cared more about political alignment than about being a shining light to the broken, the weary, and the equal to these?
Now, more than ever, we have a choice:
Protect ourselves from darkness and let the love of Jesus shine through us.
Or be swayed by the opinions of others, mistaking them for revelation-light.
Reflect & Respond
Take a moment to ask yourself:
What situations cause me to shine less light into the world?
What opinions do I find myself being swayed by?
How can I listen to Jesus and obey His teachings this week?
Let’s be people of light. Let’s reflect truth by the way we live.
