Ebenezer

June 25, 2022 | By Anna Delamerced, MD

Stones on a New Haven beach. Photo by Anna Delamerced.

In pediatrics, there’s a thing called milestones. We love talking to families and children about them. Drawing a square. Tying shoe laces. Learning how to ride a bike. They’re markers of growth in a child’s development. At every annual physical exam, we check in on how they’re doing in school, what fruits and vegetables they like, how much exercise they’re getting. We love to learn about their interests, like art or music. We measure their height and weight. We show them how much they’ve grown. 

As my intern year comes to an end, I’ve been thinking about growth in my own life, too. At our recent end-of-the-year celebration, my program director said it’s good to take a moment to remember milestones. Markers of growth in our lives. Because time can often get away and just pass us by, without us realizing it. To pause, look back and reflect on the year. And what a year it has been, full of joy and sadness, sorrow and laughter, pain and hope. A year of firsts: first delivery, code, lumbar puncture. A year of beginnings and endings: new life, saying goodbye, patient deaths that stick with you long after you leave the hospital. The seasons changed, autumn colors painted the trees, winter brought snow, flowers bloomed, and now it’s back to the warmth of summer. 

This time last year, I moved to New Haven to start pediatric residency at Yale. I admit, I was nervous. I was scared. It was the first time in a long time that I moved somewhere new. I had to make new friends all over again and find new communities — all of that on top of learning how to be a doctor: learning how to take care of patients, how to advocate for them as a pediatrician. I grappled with homesickness and loss, watched my grandfather’s funeral on Zoom, wrestled with imposter syndrome.

And yet, gratitude outweighed the griefs. I am grateful for the joys and sabbath-like rests. I am thankful for the new friends who came into my life and the old ones who supported me through it all, for my family and loved ones across the states and the Philippines who cheered me on. I am thankful for those who prayed for me, who brought food to me, who sent me cards of encouragement. For those who texted me, called me, visited, or simply just went on a walk with me. To my co-residents — I thank them for every hug, every pep talk, every nighttime hangout in the cafeteria or cathartic chat in the library. To my new communities in New Haven, both inside and outside the hospital, from church to neighbors and everyone in between— I thank them for their friendship and support. To my mom and dad, and to my brothers— because of their love, they’ve taught me how to serve and love, inspiring me to bring that into my role as a pediatrician in training.

And so, here is my Ebenezer. It’s a Hebrew word meaning “stone of help.” A stone of remembrance. Scripture tells us many examples of this image as a reminder of God’s help and steadfastness. It is good to take a moment and remember who God is and what He has done for you. When the Israelites crossed the Jordan River into the Promised Land, for example, God instructed them to set up twelve stones as a sign of remembrance of His help: 

“In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’ tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’  For the Lord your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The Lord your God did to the Jordan what he had done to the Red Sea when he dried it up before us until we had crossed over. He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God.” (Joshua 4:21-24)

One of the most challenging years of my life thus far has also been one of the most joy-filled ones. Amidst all the ups and downs, there has been a steadfast Rock. He is the one who grows me like a tree planted by streams of running water. He is the one who gives me fruit to bear and to share. He is with me, with us - He will never leave or let us go. He holds us in His loving hands - our past, present, and futures. 

As my intern year ends and the second year of my residency begins, I thank God for His grace upon grace. Each day is a gift, and I just want to make the most of His gifts. I know He brought me here to New Haven, to serve and to love. May I continue to do that wholeheartedly. I know I have so much more to learn, many more miles to go. Perhaps next year, at this time again, I will look back and see the hand of God in so many moments. I’ll look back and set up my stone of remembrance, my Ebenezer, once more.

Anna Delamerced is entering her second year in the Pediatric Residency Program at Yale. She graduated from Brown University in 2016 and its medical school in 2021, where she was a writer for the Cornerstone Magazine. Her passions include listening to people tell their stories.