Basically, this blog is being written as a big ‘ole THANK YOU. A few weeks ago we celebrated EMS week. Fireworks were displayed, honorary dinners were held, gifts poured in. marquis signs were lit up, hands were shaken, backs were patted, smiles were exchanged, and pictures supporting our EMS family bombarded the message boards of social media across the country. Did you see those things? I didn’t either. I did hear of a luncheon or two some employers held for their employees, so I think that’s wonderful. I may seem like I’m on the verge of a rant right now, but I’m not. The truth is, I didn’t even thank my own paramedic husband for his service. He casually reminded me of EMS week a few times in conversation, but even then I didn’t mouth the words thank you. I had the intention of giving him a shout out via Facebook and Twitter, but in the craziness of my life I let it pass by. I didn’t think about it again. Until last night…
Like any other night, I listened to Ben talk about how tired
he was. I watched him fall asleep, and then looked over at his open closet. His
shoes lay scattered in the bottom, and his seasoned uniforms cluttered the
majority of his space. Why does he do this job? I found myself asking deeper
than before. Is it just to get a paycheck? His pay doesn’t do justice to the
amount of life he pours into his job. Is it because it’s all he’s really ever
known? Or could it be….just maybe…he understands something I don’t? Could it be
because He knows this is the calling God has placed on his life? Is this the
beautiful role God has planned for him? I’m beginning to think the latter is
true. I’ve never seen someone work so hard to improve the morale and efficiency
of a workplace. Or be more willing to take on this new partner, change shifts,
or help this new ride-along student. God has no doubt gifted Ben with the
ability to be secretly wonderful. A secretly wonderful paramedic.
In my own selfishness and prideful attitude, I took every
opportunity to boast about my husband being employed as a fireman back home.
Especially after 9/11. After that horrific event, there was just something even
more special about firefighters, police officers, and soldiers. They were the “important
ones.” The “heroes.” I wore his firefighter status as a badge of honor, and
even began to turn my nose at EMS workers and volunteer firefighters. I knew it was wrong, but please, I was the
wife of a firefighter moving up the ladder of significance, and eligible to
retire at the age of 40. My life had meaning because of his status. Ben’s life
had purpose.
I’ve not always been one to jump when God says jump, but a
few times when we lived in New Mexico He said do something, and I basically
threw a fit until we were obedient. (I am not condoning fit throwing, but I am
encouraging obedience.) The first test of obedience came when we were called to
leave our church home. The second was when we were called to leave our families
and everything we knew…including Ben’s firefighter position.
In what seemed like only a few short months, Ben turned in
his fire uniforms. We were off to a foreign land (Illinois) where he would serve as an
EMT-Basic. Basic. That word flashed in neon lights in my selfish brain for a
while. Ben was so much MORE than a basic. (Oh good grief how awful my thought
process was!) It got better as time went on, because Ben was soon to become a
medic. A paramedic in fact. That title meant more experience, more success,
more special. Right…
Ben is currently 6 months away from celebrating five years
as an EMT/Paramedic for the state of Illinois…and
I couldn’t be more proud of him!
As God began to lay this blog on my heart, Ben (unknowingly
contributing) showed me a Facebook post one of his friends posted. It was a
picture of (I believe) an ambulance or a stethoscope with a phrase that read:
“We are the ones they call to save your life, but to you we
are still just ambulance drivers.”
I have to tell you it may have been meant to be funny, but
it broke my heart. It hit me hard. Like “punch in the chest, fall to your
knees, beg for forgiveness, you should be ashamed of yourself” kind of hard. As
a stay-at-home mom I feel overwhelmed, under appreciated, and even forgotten at
times. That feeling makes me sick to my stomach. And yet, here I stand giving
my husband and other EMS workers the same
treatment. I clean up messes, stop arguments, bandage wounds, fix
meals, and mop floors…but at least I get hugs, kisses, smiles, and random I
love you and heart filled cards. I get flowers and gifts and thank yous on my special
day.
In case you are not aware, EMS
workers often respond to calls unarmed, and to unstable environments. They have
to attempt to revive a newborn baby as his parents watch their incredible
efforts return unsuccessful. They have to comfort a scared spouse, watch the
couple about to celebrate 60 years of marriage have to plan a funeral instead, watch
as small children are separated from their irresponsible caregivers, and
respond to horrific calls that involve one of their own. They are spit at, bled
on, cursed at, and questioned. They are worn out, away from their families at
night, and don’t get holidays off.
Just like all the wonderful men and women who serve our
country in the military, as firefighters (employed and volunteer), and police
officers…our EMS workers are more than just
ambulance drivers. I pray we will remember this. And I want you to know, I wear
Ben’s paramedic role in my heart. What God has called him to do, and who God
made him to be means more to me than words can describe.
In thinking of this blog, God showed me a song. I felt its
lyrics were only appropriate.
“You are a renegade, You’re an outlaw of Love’s crusade.
And they don’t know who you are.
They don’t know. They don’t know.
But Love does.
I’m telling you, Love does.”
So if you are an EMS worker
reading this…THANK YOU! May our Heavenly Father bless you for all your efforts.
You are not just secretly wonderful….but wonderful indeed!
In Christ Always,
Summer
P.s. They may not know it, but Love does! God knows!
