Attention, All Personnell, Incoming Wounded

Extra points to anyone who gets the reference in the title.
I have a theory. It's not flattering, it's not pretty, it's not graceful or beautiful, but it works. It works like the world's ugliest farm mule works. Like a critter that knows its one purpose in life is to be useful.
If you've ever seen Fifth Element with Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich, you might remember the scene where the police are running an inspection on Bruce Willis' apartment building. They turn the camera on inside his room and ask the clearly homosapien Willis, "Sir, are you classified as human?"
His reply is classic. "Negative, I am a meat popsicle."
Irreverent, but somehow very true. Probably even more true than the script writer knew. I think, somehow, Bruce Willis might know. Even if he is running around with women half his age in leather pants, I think he's smarter than he come off. Anyway. My theory is this:
I am a meat suit.
I SAID it wasn't pretty.
I was put on this earth, and have since spent a lot of time studying the human body. Looked at from one angle, we are beautifully complex, mysterious creatures. In another light, we are nothing more than masses of pumping, digesting, metabolizing, respiring meat. The base elements of the human body can be listed on your fingers and toes, and the shopping bag price is somewhere around twenty bucks. The substances are easily found at any chemist's shop. Watch Full Metal Alchemist. It's true! Independantly corroborated, of course.
And yet, with all the high-tech equipment we have at our disposal, scientists cannot instill life artificially into one single cell. That's okay, because we wouldn't know what to do with it if we created it, anyway. Best case scenarios include organ replication, fertility treatments, and parkinson's research. But those wouldn't be the primary goals. Our Creator knew what was up when He said "Let them be ham-fisted at trying to do My job, and let them constantly make buffons of themselves if they try."
Pretty awesome decree. Nevertheless, I'm not trying to devalue His creation. As I said, we are beautifully complex, fearfully and wonderfully made. But without that divine spark, we are nothing more than meat suits lying here and metabolizing. We are made with only one empty space--the little cavern in our guts that has imprinted on it, "Insert God Here."
Nature abhors a vaccum. If we don't fill it with the One who created us, we will fill it with another, lesser god. We will worship created things, instead of the Creator. Nursing has taught me that if you put a human into an unnatural position, or try to make the human body fit into a space that doesn't conform to it, horrible, terrible injury will result. Plus, the patient's on the call light, like, every five minutes whining.
And yet, we walk around watching people with heart injuries as though it's their fault, as though they'll eventually get better.
News flash: when a meat suit gets injured, it's more than a fashion faux pas.
Whether we like it or not, we're all medics, trying to get through this life without getting hit with bullets like self-loathing, depression, and despair, dragging life's casualties off the front lines and applying pressure to wounds like death of a loved one, family troubles, and failed relationships. If all goes well, we keep the meat suit safe until it can heal, and our friend gets up and fights again.
We may be working these meat suits like we own 'em, but the Holy Spirit has more than a little say. He's not happy when we hunker in the bunker and clench in the trench. Get up. Fight! Keep low, but keep moving.
I myself am naturally inclined to lie low and hope everything goes away, and doing so makes my commander hopping mad. There are others out there being battered and brutalized. Inaction is inexcusable. Also cowardly, and will give you wrinkles. And cancer.
No, really. Prevent cancer by not being a wuss!