The Alarm on the Night Shift

Dr. Maria Santos still remembers her first overnight shift at Johns Hopkins in July 2019 — hallways humming with fluorescent light, monitors beeping from every direction. Three times that night, a soft chime sounded from the panel near the nurses' station. Each time, Maria glanced at it and returned to her charts, assuming it belonged to someone else's patient.

The third time, Dr. Eleanor Voss, a veteran attending with thirty years on the wards, stopped her in the corridor. "Maria — that tone. That's bed twelve. That's your patient. When you hear it, you go."

Maria had heard the sound every time. She simply hadn't known it was calling her.

She hurried to bed twelve and found an elderly man whose oxygen levels had dropped quietly. A quick adjustment, a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and the crisis passed. But what stayed with Maria wasn't the medical save — it was the realization that the call had been sounding all along, and she needed someone to teach her it was hers to answer.

Young Samuel heard a voice three times in the darkness at Shiloh and ran to Eli each time, certain the old priest was calling. It took Eli — weary, failing Eli — to recognize what was happening: "It's not me. It's the Lord. Next time, answer Him."

God's voice is often already sounding in our lives — in the restlessness we cannot explain, the scripture that will not release us, the quiet nudge we keep dismissing. Sometimes we need an Eli to help us recognize that the call is real, and it is meant for us.