He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone

An open letter to my fellow nurse,

I wanted to help you. But my own patient that day was far too sick for me to leave her bedside. I watched quietly from across the unit. I wondered what tragedy would necessitate such urgency as you rushed in and out of the young child’s room. Later, I heard the wailing and sobbing of the child’s mother. I recognized this sobbing—the kind only made by a mother who would hold her baby for the very last time.

I soon learned about the unfortunate events that had led to this hospitalization. It is easy to judge people during their worst moments when choices and circumstances collide in a tragic storm. In this case, I thought the mom had made poor choices, and unfathomable consequences followed. It would have been easy for a nurse to respond in anger or treat this mother with less compassion or care because of her choices—choices that ultimately lead to her child’s harm.

I was inspired by your kind attendance to this mother’s needs. Your actions did not reflect judgment or disgust but instead showed an incredible level of professionalism and compassion. You cared for her the same way that you would have for any grieving mother. You stood by her. You comforted her. You eased her burden. The extent to which you cared for this family makes me want to be a better human.

There is a time and a place for justice. And justice will be served. But in that final hour, you offered nothing but grace.

Sincerely, Katie McKee, RN

This year has left us in a constant state of evaluation to determine our friends’ and neighbors’ stances on various divisive topics. What is the appropriate level of government involvement in our lives? How do you feel when you think about universal masking mandates, distant vs. in-person learning, law enforcement, or the nature of religious or public gatherings?

We often feel hurt and threatened when others’ sentiments do not align with our own. However, I agree with Rick Warren, who said, “Our culture has accepted two huge lies. The first is that if you disagree with someone’s lifestyle, you must fear or hate them. The second is that to love someone means you agree with everything they believe or do. Both are nonsense. You don’t have to compromise convictions to be compassionate.”

My exemplary coworker modeled love and compassion under difficult circumstances toward a mother whose choices and lifestyle vastly differed from her own. Can I not aim to act similarly? We can all aspire to disagree politely, to stand firm in our convictions, and continuously maintain love and compassion for those who believe the contrary. Perhaps disagreeing with AND loving your neighbor are not mutually exclusive.

When the scribes and Pharisees presented the adulterous woman to the Savior, they declared, “the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?” But Jesus was not quick to reply. Rather, he paused. He “stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.” It wasn’t until later that Jesus replied, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her” (John 8: 5-7).

I invite you to pause to consider before casting your stones. When the masked (or unmasked) neighbor comes knocking at your door, insisting that distant (or in-person) learning is the safest approach—pause to consider before casting your stones. When you find it incomprehensible that a loved one is voting for your opposing candidate, pause to consider before casting your stones.

And in that final hour, when there is nothing left to give, give grace.

Katie McKee is a pediatric ICU nurse, a mama of three, and an avid outdoorswoman. She loves to fish, four-wheel and is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.