Wednesday, February 04, 2004
I'm always amazed by the grace of God and how quickly I forget it.
Our son had an accident that resulted in his arm being broken. Unfortunately, he was in a window of time without health insurance, having passed the age to be on our policy and not having picked it up through employment.
After a night in the emergency room, he needed to do some follow up with an orthopedic doctor. Together, we went to an office in Escondido and at the counter I asked them Could I make an appt. for my son? We don't have health insurance. They said abruptly "We're sorry; if you don't have health insurance, we can't help you". I said "I do have a checkbook." With several gals in the office pool, the one continued "You see, you don't have insurance and so you'd need $400.00 or more to be seen. And if your son needs surgery, it WILL BE thousands and you don't have that so I'm sorry. You don't have health insurance! I replied "I do have a son". [I noticed the Doctors standing nearby and with every receptionist listening in, I noticed that none of the Drs would make eye contact.
After what seemed like an eternity, I said quietly "What do you suggest? I paused and waited. Finally one nurse came over to me and said "here is a number of an agency that might be able to help you". I thanked her.
The number was that of a social service branch that would consider helping if the mountain of red tape could be worked through. We needed paperwork from many places and I realized it would take days to gather.
Then I remembered that Judy had been our doctor and they had told her of a neighborhood clinic that might at least take out the stitches and look at the broken arm. By that day and at this point, both Jon and I were exasperated. We nearly gave up in discouragement after having trouble finding the street of the clinic. AND THEN...(I know God was leading all the way -hindsite is 20/20) we stumbled across the place.
Going into the strip mall where the clinic was located it looked like the kind of neighborhood I would not want to leave my car in. Upon entering, I realized my assessment was accurate. I found us sitting among the poor of the poor. The place reaked with poverty.
But something else stood out. By stark contrast to what I'd experienced just a half hour before, everyone working in the clinic seemed to have a certain way about them... something like joy.
They said yes, a Dr. could look at the injuries. At this point, after burdens had piled up all day long, I decided to go out to my car and get my Bible so I could let God minister to me. (Normally I confess that a "People Magazine" might have found it's way to me, but somehow instinctively I felt a hunger for the God of comfort.
The nurse came to invite Jon back to the examination room. I decided to let him handle it as he was a bit weary of me intervening for him. I was content to let him deal with it. But then a door opened again and the nurse prompted me to come back and "be with my son". Jon nodded acceptance.
Seated in the waiting room, I settled in my seat with the Bible closed and tucked against my chest. Just then the door opened and a Dr. came in. I took note of him because he seemed very confident and competent. Oddly, I thought as he started to do his work that he didn't seem to fit in the clinic amidst all of the poverty.
"Is that a good book?" he quipped as I realized he was referring to the Bible tucked in my arms. I looked down to realize that all he could see was the back of a John Maxwell study Bible - only the words "Leadership, God's way...". He said "I love leadership".
I mumbled something about it being more than a good book, but THE Good Book. He said with great grace "I am a believer". He asked where I fellowshipped and he mentioned his church.
He then went on to explain that Jon was in "no man's land" - too old for one type of help and too young for another. Jon reminded him of his age and he realized his records were wrong. He quickly said "wait just a few minutes and let me check some things out".
He came back in and said "We will get this thing worked out". Suddenly he said "You're the pastor of the church". I said yes (wondering if I simply looked like a pastor looks or something). He thoroughly explained all he would do for Jon and said "You are helping others all the time, it's the least we can do. As an MD I have some connections and we'll get this done; it won't cost you anything!
Suddenly I felt the tears streaming down my face and I said to him (I didn't and don't know his name) Can I say this is how our GREAT God works?
Several nurses were all gathered around him and each stopped and with a certain understanding just nodded. Jon, sitting with a brand new splint on his arm, said "My faith is restored today".
What happened next I am not proud of. I reach in my pocket and pull out a business card and hand it to the Dr. and blurt out
OSir, if there anyone you know that could use some help or someone to have coffee with or anything, I'd be happy to minister to them. (It was kinda like offering God $.10 to cover his gift of salvation). He with a great deal of grace glanced at the card and said "...Sam..." You help people all day long. Just "pay it forward".
Jon and I looked at each other and our eyes locked. We'd seen our Great God at work.
By the time we got the parking lot (glad to see my car still there) I blurted out "There are still good people in this world after all".
God had sent me to a street Clinic to make sure I don't wander far from that rung of society... I needed to see the brokenness to deal with pride. He put on a viritual "clinic" on leadership before my eyes by a physican who knew why he was here on earth. And to witness teamwork in a staff that served not only me, but everyone that day as if we were princes.
I said to Jon "God has done this for me 10,000 times and yet I wake up and wonder if he can really care for me this day.
I repented and acknowleged HIM!
Our son had an accident that resulted in his arm being broken. Unfortunately, he was in a window of time without health insurance, having passed the age to be on our policy and not having picked it up through employment.
After a night in the emergency room, he needed to do some follow up with an orthopedic doctor. Together, we went to an office in Escondido and at the counter I asked them Could I make an appt. for my son? We don't have health insurance. They said abruptly "We're sorry; if you don't have health insurance, we can't help you". I said "I do have a checkbook." With several gals in the office pool, the one continued "You see, you don't have insurance and so you'd need $400.00 or more to be seen. And if your son needs surgery, it WILL BE thousands and you don't have that so I'm sorry. You don't have health insurance! I replied "I do have a son". [I noticed the Doctors standing nearby and with every receptionist listening in, I noticed that none of the Drs would make eye contact.
After what seemed like an eternity, I said quietly "What do you suggest? I paused and waited. Finally one nurse came over to me and said "here is a number of an agency that might be able to help you". I thanked her.
The number was that of a social service branch that would consider helping if the mountain of red tape could be worked through. We needed paperwork from many places and I realized it would take days to gather.
Then I remembered that Judy had been our doctor and they had told her of a neighborhood clinic that might at least take out the stitches and look at the broken arm. By that day and at this point, both Jon and I were exasperated. We nearly gave up in discouragement after having trouble finding the street of the clinic. AND THEN...(I know God was leading all the way -hindsite is 20/20) we stumbled across the place.
Going into the strip mall where the clinic was located it looked like the kind of neighborhood I would not want to leave my car in. Upon entering, I realized my assessment was accurate. I found us sitting among the poor of the poor. The place reaked with poverty.
But something else stood out. By stark contrast to what I'd experienced just a half hour before, everyone working in the clinic seemed to have a certain way about them... something like joy.
They said yes, a Dr. could look at the injuries. At this point, after burdens had piled up all day long, I decided to go out to my car and get my Bible so I could let God minister to me. (Normally I confess that a "People Magazine" might have found it's way to me, but somehow instinctively I felt a hunger for the God of comfort.
The nurse came to invite Jon back to the examination room. I decided to let him handle it as he was a bit weary of me intervening for him. I was content to let him deal with it. But then a door opened again and the nurse prompted me to come back and "be with my son". Jon nodded acceptance.
Seated in the waiting room, I settled in my seat with the Bible closed and tucked against my chest. Just then the door opened and a Dr. came in. I took note of him because he seemed very confident and competent. Oddly, I thought as he started to do his work that he didn't seem to fit in the clinic amidst all of the poverty.
"Is that a good book?" he quipped as I realized he was referring to the Bible tucked in my arms. I looked down to realize that all he could see was the back of a John Maxwell study Bible - only the words "Leadership, God's way...". He said "I love leadership".
I mumbled something about it being more than a good book, but THE Good Book. He said with great grace "I am a believer". He asked where I fellowshipped and he mentioned his church.
He then went on to explain that Jon was in "no man's land" - too old for one type of help and too young for another. Jon reminded him of his age and he realized his records were wrong. He quickly said "wait just a few minutes and let me check some things out".
He came back in and said "We will get this thing worked out". Suddenly he said "You're the pastor of the church". I said yes (wondering if I simply looked like a pastor looks or something). He thoroughly explained all he would do for Jon and said "You are helping others all the time, it's the least we can do. As an MD I have some connections and we'll get this done; it won't cost you anything!
Suddenly I felt the tears streaming down my face and I said to him (I didn't and don't know his name) Can I say this is how our GREAT God works?
Several nurses were all gathered around him and each stopped and with a certain understanding just nodded. Jon, sitting with a brand new splint on his arm, said "My faith is restored today".
What happened next I am not proud of. I reach in my pocket and pull out a business card and hand it to the Dr. and blurt out
OSir, if there anyone you know that could use some help or someone to have coffee with or anything, I'd be happy to minister to them. (It was kinda like offering God $.10 to cover his gift of salvation). He with a great deal of grace glanced at the card and said "...Sam..." You help people all day long. Just "pay it forward".
Jon and I looked at each other and our eyes locked. We'd seen our Great God at work.
By the time we got the parking lot (glad to see my car still there) I blurted out "There are still good people in this world after all".
God had sent me to a street Clinic to make sure I don't wander far from that rung of society... I needed to see the brokenness to deal with pride. He put on a viritual "clinic" on leadership before my eyes by a physican who knew why he was here on earth. And to witness teamwork in a staff that served not only me, but everyone that day as if we were princes.
I said to Jon "God has done this for me 10,000 times and yet I wake up and wonder if he can really care for me this day.
I repented and acknowleged HIM!
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