Started the day calm, thinking it’d stay that way. By noon, the list of new patients was longer than I expected. 😅 My heart sank a little with every update. I told myself, don’t let numbers rule you. Still, I kept checking, hoping no more names would appear. My joy rose and fell with the count. Then God nudged my heart: every patient is placed by Him. 🙏 My worth isn’t tied to how busy or free I am, but to Christ who finished the work that matters most. Many or few, each case is His gift to steward. Read the full heart lesson on my blog.
Working in a hospital means being on call. Most specialties cover 24 hours, meaning every patient admitted during that time ultimately lands under a consultant.
Even though I no longer stay overnight, my emotions still rise and fall with the call. The number of admissions sets the tone. The fewer the patients, the lighter my heart. If the numbers climb, so does my tension.
It sounds obvious, but this first reflection matters: our mood often mirrors workload. In medicine, where patient numbers swing unpredictably, it’s normal to feel this way. To deny it would be dishonest.
But here’s the deeper tension: if I truly find satisfaction in healing, shouldn’t more patients—more people helped—bring more joy? Reality says otherwise. My mood proves I’m not fulfilled merely by “helping more.” I actually feel glad when there are fewer to care for.
God’s Sovereignty Over the Workload
That honesty drives me to a second reflection: God is sovereign over every case admitted under my care. Many or few, each patient is placed by Him. My calling is to steward whoever He entrusts to me—treating every person with respect, kindness, and the best of my skill.
So I need not feel guilty when my list is light, nor proud when it is heavy. The measure isn’t the count of patients, but the faithfulness of my care.
Some colleagues take pride in being busy, equating a long list with importance. Others quietly celebrate empty slots. Both responses miss the same thing: real joy isn’t in numbers but in Christ.
When time is plenty, the next question is how I use it. Do I draw closer to God, serve my family, point others to Christ—or drift into self-indulgence?
Whether the ward is bursting or quiet, both the patients and the hours are gifts from God to steward for His glory.
How should the Christian think about this?
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Beyond the day’s admissions, I ask how this applies to the wider rhythms of life. Workloads in every field rise and fall. Seasons of rest and pressure are not accidents. They’re invitations to trust.
This truth reshapes my prayers. Instead of asking for “fewer patients,” I ask for faith to meet whatever number God sends, and for wisdom to use free hours well.
In the end, whether the list is long or short, the goal is the same: faithful stewardship, quiet joy, and glory to God.