This week, I visited my dad and mom down at MD Anderson Hospital in Houston, TX. My dad’s AML cancer returned after his first go with chemo this past fall, and this time they’re treating it more aggressively. After having been there for a couple of days, walking the hallways, eating at the cafes, grabbing cups of coffee, riding the elevators, sitting in the hospital room, and soaking in my new environment, I decided to share some observations, reflections, and a biblical application.
Observation
First observation: There were four main groups of people, and when I say ‘people,’ I mean many people, meandering throughout the corridors, skywalks, foyers, lobbies, etc. First, the patients. These individuals were obvious, from the gauze on their arms to the hair loss to the way they were wheeled or slowly walking around. Second, there were the caregivers. These folk were usually right alongside the patients. They were helping keep a patient steady, getting them coffee, eating with them, or sitting in their room. Next were the support caregivers. These people weren’t quite as easy to identify, but they were there. I was in this group with my brothers when they arrived. This group is family, friends, hospital volunteers and more that are alongside the patient and usually talking with the primary caregiver, hospital staff, etc. The final group was the doctors and nurses. Again, these people were clearly marked by white jackets, scrubs, badges, and more.
Second observation: The housing my parents are currently in is called the Rotary House Hotel. It is attached to MD Anderson Hospital and offers amenities similar to those you might find at a hotel while staying on vacation. Coffee at the ready, in your rooms, a fitness center, daily room cleaning, sheet and towel laundering, and more.
Third observation: Without fail, as I walked back and forth between the hospital and the hotel to grab coffee or what have you, I was surrounded by people. The atmosphere was thick with solidarity, solemnity, concentration, seriousness, unpretentiousness, and a desire to leave healed. I mean, it was thick. To see someone laughing outloud or making an obscene gesture would have been taboo.
Reflection
First reflection: The four categories of people may be defined as (1) those fighting for their lives, (2) those supporting those fighting for their lives, (3) those supporting those who are supporting those fighting for their lives, and (4) those seeking solutions and providing health care to those fighting for their lives.
Notice how I described each category? The center or subject is always the one fighting for their lives. This hospital exists to help people in their fight for their lives. Thinking about this made me think about life in general. Every single one of us is heading toward this end-of-life fight against death, and the reality is that we will all lose. There is no stopping our death, and usually, the final contest is difficult and painful. We are blind to it in our youth, ignore it in our middle age, and try to evade it in our older years. However, a season and then a day rapidly approach for each of us to walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.
Second reflection: One morning, I worked out alongside two other gentlemen in the hospital hotel fitness center. As we were doing our particular exercises, I thought to myself, “…here we are, in a fitness center that feels like one you would be in while traveling or on vacation, enjoying time with friends or family, but here we are in a hospital hotel fitness center, and none of us want to be here negotiating these circumstances.” It was a paradox. On the one hand, it was nice to have these conveniences, but on the other hand, the thought of why you were there gave you pause and reflection. Sort of like the ominous negative thing that makes your stomach get butterflies, you forgot about, but you know is still there.
To be sure, MD Anderson goes above and beyond to provide comfortable, thoughtful seating, accessible coffee, good food, and much more. It is just odd experiencing such thoughtfulness when your reason for being there is terrible.
Third reflection: I will never see healthcare the same way again. For most of my life, just as with many words I knew but had little to no meaning to me personally (like education, which means to lead out), healthcare was just a doctor or a nurse, or something related to the medical field. It was a word I understood as referring to objective realities, but had little personal impact on me. For sure, I have been around hospitals and the medical field (even had surgery a couple of times), but this was an entirely different experience. The objective aspect of healthcare became subjective to me this week.
Let me illustrate my point: First, negatively, my dad had a nurse named, we’ll just call him Frank, attending to him one night. Well, about 3 a.m., Frank comes into my dad’s room and wakes him up by starting a platelet infusion. He asks my dad if he has ever had one before. Well, at 3 a.m., it is hard to gather yourself together, especially since they have him on pain meds out the wazoo. Well, apparently, the story goes that my dad couldn’t hear the nurse and said “No” to the nurse’s question about the infusion. Turns out, my mom was also in the room, heard the conversation, and corrected the answer, saying that my dad had, in fact, had them before. To drive home his question, Frank got up into my dad’s face, lying there on the bed, and loudly, gruffly said, “PLATELET INFUSION.” Well, Frank might have been having a long, hard night, but he certainly did not give the kind of care a sick and hurting patient desired.
Second, positively, my dad has a doctor who is notorious for being late. On the one hand, this can be frustrating for our Western punctual-mindedness. However, his tardiness is apparently due to his relationality. This particular doctor stays as long as the patient and caregivers need to have their questions and concerns addressed. He is there to care for his people, and expresses this by being present in the present. This kind of relational care goes a long way as the fog of medical decisions sets in and bears down upon the caregivers and patients.
Biblical Application
As I have shared my observations and reflections, I am struck by God’s kindness and care for us. Here we are, in need of physical support, and the care-ful leadership at MD Anderson meets it. God extends His care through the care of health or the healthcare provided by a hospital.
This is a small picture of how God cares for our souls.
Think back to your salvation. Consider the intricate details of how God integrated and wove together events, people, and circumstances to bring you to Himself. Think about what that relationship with God means for you now and into the future. Consider the security of your eternal salvation. Think through God’s love and care to remind you that He loves you.
The application:
- Be present in the present, caring for those in your care by helping them fight their battles of life well!
- Remember, the Bible teaches us that pain is answered with at least two promises: (1) the promise of ultimate healing in heaven and (2) the promise of a new heaven and new earth where we will have new bodies without pain, forever able to enjoy and delight in God, others, and His creation.
- By death, Christ defeated death, enabling us to face death without fear, and to fight our own good fight today.
- So, let us fight it with faith, remembering that not only has our God already won the battle, but that He is with us in our fight too!
“Then He said to them, ‘Beware, and be on your guard against every form of greed; for not even when one has an abundance does his life consist of his possessions.’”
Luke 12:15
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
2 Timothy 4:7
— February 25, 2026