Paramedic's Prayer!

As I perform my duty, Lord,
Whatever be the call
Help to guide and keep me safe,
From dangers big and small.

I want to serve and do my best
No matter what the scene,
I promise to keep my skills refined,
My judgment sharp and keen.
This calling to give of myself,
most do not understand,
But I stand ready all the time
to help my fellow man.

A word of thanks I might not hear,
but knowing is enough,
That I have helped just even one
To go on to live and love.

Lord, You know what lies ahead of me this day.

The calls I will be asked to respond to,
And those who find themselves in situations they
never imagined
And see no way out.

For them I humbly ask that you would speed
me on with attending angels
At my side guiding every decision and procedure

To all who plead and those who cannot, I pray to
be a Good samaritan
As they look to me for help and rescue.

Help me to save as many as I can,
And should mine be the last face they see,
I pray they will have looked into eyes
That reflected You love for them

In Jesus' Name Amen.

Dear Lord, let me receive the sick
and traumatized with an open and giving heart.
Give to my efforts success so that life may
continue, if it be your will.  Without you
I cannot succeed.

Let me have no purpose except the
glorification of life.
Grant that the sick that you have
placed in my care be abundantly blessed,
and not one of them be lost due to any
neglect on my part.

Help me to overcome any temporal weakness
so that I may serve to my fullest capacity.
Let me always reach out to all in joy, compassion
and with a loving heart.

When God made paramedics, He was into His sixth day of overtime.
An angel appeared and said, "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?

A Paramedic has to be able to carry an injured person up a wet, grassy hill in the dark,
dodge stray bullets to reach a dying child unarmed,
enter homes the health inspector wouldn't touch,
and not wrinkle his uniform."

"He has to be able to lift three times his own weight.
Crawl into wrecked cars with barely enough room to move,
and console a grieving mother as
he is doing CPR on a baby he knows will never breathe again."

"He has to be in top mental condition at all times,
running on no sleep, black coffee and half-eaten meals,
and he has to have six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pairs of hands...no way."
"It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God replied.
"It's the three pairs of eyes a medic has to have."
"That's on the standard model?" asked the angel.

God nodded. "One pair that sees open sores as he's drawing blood,
always wondering if the patient is HIV positive."
(When he already knows and wishes he'd taken that accounting job)

"Another pair here in the side of his head for his partner's safety.
And another pair of eyes here in front
that can look reassuringly at a bleeding victim and say,
"You'll be alright ma'am when he knows it isn't so."

"Lord," said the angel, touching His sleeve, "rest and work on this tomorrow."
"I can't," God replied.
"I already have a model that can talk a 250 pound
drunk out from behind a steering wheel
without incident and feed a family of five on a private service paycheck."
The angel circled the model of the Paramedic very slowly.
"Can it think?" she asked.

"You bet", God said.
"It can tell you the symptoms of 100 illnesses;
recite drug calculations in it's sleep;
intubate, defibrillate, medicate, and continue CPR
nonstop over terrain that any doctor would fear...
and it still keeps it's sense of humor."

"This medic also has phenomenal personal control.
He can deal with a multi-victim trauma,
coax a frightened elderly person to unlock their door,
comfort a murder victim's family,
and then read in the daily paper how Paramedics were
unable to locate a house quickly enough,
allowing the person to die.
A house that had no street sign, no house numbers, no phone to call back."

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek of the Paramedic.

"There's a leak," she pronounced.
"I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."
"That's not a leak," God replied, "It's a tear."
"What's the tear for?" asked the angel.

"It's for bottled up emotions,
for patients they've tried in vain to save,
for commitment to that hope
that they will make a difference in a person's chance to survive, for life."
"You're a genius!" said the angel.

God looked somber.

"I DIDN'T PUT IT THERE" He said.