When I left the hospital after a week-long stay, going to the doctor felt almost like a part-time job. In addition to my primary doctor, I was being monitored by three specialists.
My body needed support, and the doctors, specialists, nurses, and assistants provided it. For that, I will be eternally grateful.
Every time I went in for a follow-up appointment, I was received with the necessary care and attention. They would ask how I had been since the previous visit, what changes I had noticed, and offer their recommendations following the consultation. Everything was handled with both competence and sensitivity.
The vast majority of the doctors supported me immensely; no one criticized or scolded me for being there, seeking to improve my health. The goal was always clear: my well-being.
The only less-than-pleasant experience I had, occurred when I told a substitute doctor that I would like to find a way to stop taking a medication. That medication carried critical long-term side effects. Or, if I couldn’t stop taking it entirely, at least lower the dosage.
In your case, what has your experience been when you have taken the initiative to improve your own health? Is your initiative well-received, or are you criticized for being sick?
In my case, the doctor did not take my question well. She became annoyed, questioned me in a cold and rude manner, and even raised her voice at me. It was then that I realized she was not the right person to help me resolve my doubts.
I left that appointment feeling unsettled. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, assuming she was interested in my well-being. And I know she was—it just wasn’t expressed in a way that actually helped me.
And you—have you paid attention to identifying what actually helps *you*?
Does it help you to focus your attention on *why* your health is in its current state, or to focus on *how* to improve it?
In the Scriptures, Jesus is asked who must have sinned—the man himself or his parents—for him to have been born blind. Can you notice what they were focusing on with that question?
At that time, it was widely believed that physical ailments were a consequence of—or a punishment for—having committed a sin. Since that man had been born blind, the question sought to identify who the sinner was.
And Jesus’ loving genius responds:
—Neither he nor his parents.
And Jesus proceeds to heal him.
Jesus does not focus on pointing fingers; He focuses on healing. And healing brings light to life.
Can you imagine if you and I could take the same approach in our own lives—with ourselves and with others?
What would our lives be like if we focused on healing instead of pointing fingers?
And as for that medication I wanted to stop taking—here is what happened. With the necessary supervision, support, and medical testing, I did indeed stop taking it. A different doctor and I focused on healing, and my body responded.
If the Spirit leads you, share with Jesus the Carpenter what it is that you tend to focus on. And perhaps Jesus invites you to reorient your attention, bringing light to another area of your life.
Marisol
P.S.: We can hear the account of Jesus healing the man born blind in the readings for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year/Cycle A.
