"Communication..................."

Thursday afternoon found Beth and me about ninety minutes early for my appointment to talk with a nurse practitioner concerning an upcoming biopsy and therefore patiently sitting in a second floor waiting room over at Veterans Hospital. In all my previous visits to the location, it was impossible to find a parking spot, not just in their lot, but anywhere within walking distance in the surrounding neighborhood. On this occasion, however, no more than we approached the front entrance, as if the Red Sea had been parted, an opening awaited us not more than a hundred feet or so from the sliding doors. Beth was there at my request, to circle outside and wait, had we not been so fortunate on this occasion, but also because my decision in this affects her life as well as mine. Not that there’s real cause for alarm yet. Blood tests a year ago revealed a sudden jump in a certain area. Doctors want to investigate. Yesterday, however, was the first time any of them has explained to me in any depth as to why this event required “going where no man has gone before, at least in the sense that the object being explored is me. We left with a much better understanding of the situation, her fears calmed and my perspective still not all that thrilled with the options before me, but at least at peace with me using some wisdom in the next step. The anchor holds… Thursday morning, I had been listening to Fox News, two regulars bringing viewers up to date on the bombing in Boston, the explosion near Waco; and, in hearing the one fellow speak of “keeping the victims in our prayers”, it hit me how we, as believers, so frequently bring forth that solution, tossing it out there as if just mouthing those words somehow put substance into what we are suggesting. I say “we”, finding myself as guilty as anyone else, often giving promise and then failing to remember the pledge until a day or two later. For me, though, the commitment was more like “this is going into my well”, that place where, at no certain appointment, with no attempt to “categorize priorities” with a list to fulfill, what comes forth is a merger of Him and my heart. It’s not about vocalizing anything, not about breaching heaven’s walls and getting His attention. The connection is “in” me. This is “life”, not a scheduled meeting, another obligation on my daily calendar. The oasis goes with me and, although best in a quiet place, the old man swimming in His waters, its presence is never far, an inner witness able to be found in a waiting room as much as anywhere else……