Reclaiming Shalom: When the Fixer Meets the Shepherd

"I don’t know why I have to fill this out again! Nothing has changed since the first of the year. It’s all the same!"

I practically screamed the words as I scribbled ALL THE SAME across the clinic intake form. Standing at the front desk of the urgent care clinic, I was battling what felt like a severe urinary tract infection—like someone had grabbed hold of my bladder and was wringing it out of me. In my extreme discomfort and absolute exhaustion, I unleashed the full weight of my frustration onto the front desk staff.

In truth, I would only realize days later that I had taken on burdens only God was meant to carry. At that moment, I was simply caught up in the storm. Trying to scramble out the door for my own 1:30 PM appointment on top of everything else was the moment I completely hit my limit. We were desperately trying to find a reliable home care agency to provide around-the-clock care for my mom. Even with aides present, a family member always had to be available to administer her rescue medication during unpredictable shortness of breath episodes. My brother was graciously hurrying over to be with Mom since Dad needed to leave for his own doctor's appointment at 1:30 PM. Being physically and emotionally spent, the sheer exhaustion took over and I broke.

When the nurse finally escorted me back, I was so visibly shaken I couldn’t even produce a urine sample. Only after she took my vitals and went over my history was I able to calm down enough to finish. But the moment I had completed the task; a small twinge struck my chest. It passed quickly, but as I walked back into the exam room, a sharp, stabbing pain slammed into my chest—and this time, it wouldn’t let go.

An ambulance was called, and I ended up in the emergency room.

While in the ER, the urine test confirmed what I already suspected: a severe infection. They gave me a strong antibiotic and a pill to ease my bladder spasms, and physical relief slowly began to wash over me. The chest pain had once again disappeared, but figuring out why it happened in the first place meant undergoing an intense battery of tests.

In the end, the ER doctor could only tell me that there was no evidence of a heart attack or structural damage. When I asked if that constant stabbing chest pain could have been triggered by stress, he simply stated he couldn’t comment on stress being a potential cause but only on what the lab results showed.

Deep down, I already knew the answer. God has used chest pain in the past to hand me a powerful revelation: a direct call to be completely honest with Him, and with myself, about all the heavy burdens I keep trying to carry.

I had convinced myself that I had already processed the intense stress of the previous weeks. That very morning was actually the first day of service from a new home care agency. After firing the previous company, this new team was already demonstrating real stability and organization.

The week prior had been an absolute nightmare. On Friday morning, Dad woke up so severely dizzy that I had to call an ambulance for him. He was admitted to the hospital and wasn't released until late Monday afternoon. Prior to those four days in the hospital, Dad and I had been desperately trying to manage the original home care company to provide around-the-clock care for Mom, but their service was a complete disaster. They were hopelessly disorganized and failed to communicate staffing shortages. Getting aides to commit to a 12-hour shift or even show up on time became a grueling ordeal. Every time a new aide arrived for a random shift, I had to spend precious energy orienting and training them—only for them to never return.

While Dad was hospitalized, God graciously provided family and friends to help me keep Mom safe. But managing the daily logistics, coordinating coverage, and constantly training new people left me completely drained and totally overwhelmed.

I thought I had laid all those heavy burdens at God's feet. I had forgotten the gentle invitation of Matthew 11:28-30, where Jesus calls to all who labor and are heavy laden, promising rest for our souls if we will only swap our crushing, self-imposed yokes for his light one. After all, I had lately been intensely studying out about the ancient Hebraic concept of Shalom. I realize now that I had only processed what was on the very surface. I was still viewing Shalom as the simple absence of conflict or the quiet feeling of relief after a storm passes. But true Shalom is so much deeper. It is completeness, holistic wholeness, God’s original intention for creation, and his faithful, active presence RIGHT in the middle of our hardest moments.

There was no sense of peace—neither Shalom nor temporary relief—in my life because I was trying to manufacture it myself.

God used this breakdown to show me the error of my ways: not just the angry outburst at the intake staff, but my entire internal posture that led to that explosion. In my frantic effort to keep everyone safe and keep everything running “smoothly”, I defaulted once again into my old, self-reliant patterns. I kept choosing transactional end results over relational connections. I was operating in my typical "Fixer" mindset, relying on my own strength to force peace into existence rather than receiving Shalom as God’s gift. Despite knowing intellectually that I am not God, I kept stepping into his space, trying to carry weight that ONLY he is equipped to hold.

The "Fixer" mindset in me must die. God has never intended for me to take on such a role.

Yahweh is my Shepherd, as Psalm 23 reminds us, walking closely alongside us so that we lack nothing, restoring our souls and leading us beside still waters EVEN in the darkest valleys. He is actively present, not standing far off waiting for me to get it right. He is actively working to restore me to himself, and he desires that same wholeness for everyone around me.

God is in the business of restoring broken things—a work far beyond my own limited strength. As Psalm 147:3 promises, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” He isn't asking me to manage the damage or force a resolution. My role isn't to fix the unfixable. My job is to continually bring him what has broken, lay down at his feet what I am feeling, and trust the divine Physician to bind up our wounds and reveal his presence as we walk through this life together.

As always, my heart is overflowing with gratitude to our Heavenly Father for continually revealing his beautiful love and mercy to me, and for drawing me even deeper into knowing him and his true character. I am also so deeply grateful to each of you for your continued prayers for my family and for me as we walk this path. And as always to God be the glory. Amen.