I can't remember

One of the blessings of my stroke came to me while talking with a good friend this weekend about how much I love my internship. Yes, it's incredibly hard to watch these women to put themselves into situations that they end up being forced to make really difficult choices. It's hard to only see them once or twice and then not hear back from them again and you're left to wonder. But one of the blessings (and they are usually small and minor) is to realize that after my stroke, I can't remember a lot of things anymore. Yesterdays breakfast. A client that I saw last week. A paper that I turned in a month ago. What I read in a book this summer. A conversation I had on the phone two days ago--ALL GONE. I write my notes and a prayer request for an intense story, and after I ride the light rail home--usually they are gone. The memory of the woman and her pain is not- I'm not sure that will ever leave me, and just continues to affirm that I am in the right field and doing His work somehow in all of its' intensity and ugliness most days. But the not being able to remember the horribleness and intensity of their stories is a blessing. I think it is one of the great things that makes me good at this particular internship right now in this time. I can empathize, listen, be present-- BUT I DON'T HAVE TO CARRY THEIR PAIN FOR THEM! They made the choices that got them into their predicament, and though I'm not without compassion or longing to walk with them through it, it's freeing to know that I don't have to hold on to the pain for them. In that, I have found freedom, and it's very, very liberating.
Love,
Amy Christine