Editor’s Note: Sometimes I read something and think it is exactly what everyone else needs to read as well. Thankfully, some of my friends allow me to share what they have written. Melissa’s story today is classic. If you want a bit of encouragement, then today is your day. You’ll enjoy this encouraging story she shares about her recent trip to her MD.
Everything and the Kitchen Sink
“Casting all your cares [all your anxieties, all your worries and all your concerns, once and for all] on Him, for he cares about you [with deepest affection, and watches over you very carefully]. 1 Peter 5:7 (Amplified Bible)
I’m a pretty healthy person. Honest. But a few weeks ago, I finally had some testing done to see if the lovely cancer gene that runs in my family is part of my DNA. Come to find out, that pesky rascal does, indeed, live in me. This surprised me because, I always assumed I took after my mother.
She just had heart attacks, cataracts, neuropathy, and dementia.
But not cancer. That comes from the Phillips’ side.
Side note: this isn’t about my announcing that I have cancer and only two days to live. Thus far, all facts indicate that I will be around for a while longer. Still, the people with lots of letters after their names tell me I need to start getting some extra testing done.
Sheesh.
It would be easier to ignore them if the last advice my father gave me had not been, “Melissa, go to the doctor.” You’d think my godly father would have said something like, “Keep your eyes on the Lord” or “Pray without ceasing.” But, no. Even though his vision to continue impacting this world for God remained, when his earthly body failed at the age of 55, he earnestly looked at me and said, “Melissa, go to the doctor.”
So, I go.
Not that I’m a hypochondriac—too busy for that nonsense.
Then, there’s the fact that I am too tight. Which, come to think of it, is definitely a trait from my mother’s side. Budgeting foibles aside, the fact is, I don’t have insurance. And yet, I know I am where God wants me.
Generally, I turn these types of things over to Him.
Generally.
But I was forced (after returning from a month in Canada) to face the emails and phone messages telling me to schedule said various tests. Begrudgingly I called the given numbers. It was a good news, bad news situation.
The good news was that I could get two of the tests done simultaneously and therefore only have to be knocked out once. The bad news was that they wanted me to come in for a consultation first.
For a few hundred dollars.
“But why?” I sighed.
When the day of the consultation arrived, I took up my disgruntled conversation with the Lord. After all, I had been praying about helping someone financially, but these annoying, and in my opinion unnecessary, medical bills were sure going to get in the way.
Putting on my make-up, I began to listen to a sermon a dear friend had recommended. Let me tell you, the message put fire in my bones! It charged me up and fed my soul. It inspired and motivated me…
Until the preacher began to get personal.
“Where are your loyalties, really?” he asked. “Your anxieties will reveal your idolatry. Hey, if you worry about money, guess what? Money is an idol in your life. If you worry about reputation and recognition, self-recognition and pride are idols in your life….”
Well, it didn’t really matter what he said after that little money quip because the brakes of my heart screeched to a stop right there.
Your anxieties reveal your idolatry.
Pausing, I bowed my head. As I repented, the Lord reminded me how He always meets my needs. Just in case I hadn’t gotten the point, my eyes opened to see the little pillow that said, Ask Your Father.
And right there, my frustration and worry disappeared. Not that I wasn’t going to ask about the reasons for the consultation and inform them that I didn’t have insurance. But, with my spirit now in line, I could do it without that edge of vexation.
Did you know that the Hebrew word for a widow, almanah, comes from the root alem, which means “silent one” or, better yet, “one who has no voice”?
I have learned that there is an art to getting your voice heard when you don’t have a man speaking up for you. The Bible’s admonition to “Speak the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15) and my mother’s “it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it,” are worth remembering.
Sometimes, a smile is the best way to out-dog the bulldog.
The doctor came in, sat down casually, and asked how he could help me. This, in my opinion, was the perfect opener to let him know about the lack of insurance. So, could we, please, keep this consultation short? He smiled. At least, I think he did. For above his regulation Covid19 mask, his eyes held a definite twinkle. As we talked about symptoms and family history. I did my best to answer quickly, clearly, and graciously.
Eventually, I found myself in another room waiting to discuss possible appointments. The doctor had indicated that the office call might be waived, and my hopes were high. When a nurse walked by and mentioned a plan to further cut my cost, my eyes blinked away the tears.
“If we believe not, yet he abides faithful: he cannot deny himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13
Finally, I was ushered into an office where a calm, kind woman and I bandied dates about. Before confirming a final appointment, I took a deep breath and broached the financial issue. Her fingers stopped typing, and she turned to me. Lifting her hands and cradling them together, she smiled.
There was a program, she said, where each doctor in their network could perform a certain number of procedures for free each year. (Oh, and did I mention that originally my appointment was to be with a different doctor?)
Now, the doctor, with the twinkling eyes, was giving me a gift worth several thousand dollars.
“Haven’t I always taken care of you, Melissa?” came His whisper, once again.
This time the moisture in my eyes spilled over. Pretty soon it mixed with what was running out of my nose. Suffice it to say that I do not cry pretty.
Later, I walked back out into the sunshine, climbed into my car, and sat in awe.
Thank You, Thank You, Thank You, I whispered.
This called for a celebration and I just happened to have a Panera gift card tucked in my purse. My joy overflowed and nothing, not even the fact that I had to repeat my order three times because the speakers were not working well in the drive-through, could squelch it.
Smiling broadly, I handed my gift card to pay and took my food. A moment later, I realized that my order wasn’t complete.
“Oh,” I said, turning to the young man, “I should have coffee, too. And a cookie.” And reached to hand him the gift card once again. With perfect customer service, he shook his head no and motioned for me to pull into a spot ahead and wait. A few minutes later, he was handing me my hot cinnamon crunch coffee and a cookie—free.
It was the cookie that got me. Hands down, cookies are my favorite dessert and close to the top of my list is the Kitchen Sink Cookie from Panera Bread.
“Grace,” someone has said, “is when God gives us good things that we don’t deserve. Mercy is when He spares us from bad things we deserve. Blessings are when He is generous with both.”
Let’s face it, days like this do not happen very often. Sacrifices and discipline are a necessary part of life. But every now and then, our heavenly Father does send it all.
Grace,
mercy,
blessings,
and the kitchen sink cookie.
Would you like to be blessed AND convicted like I was? Check out these messages:
https://livingproof.co/sermon-series/first-peter-humility/
And you definitely want to try out this copycat recipe for Panera’s Kitchen Sink Cookies (you can thank me later).
Melissa is a follower of Jesus Christ, a widow, mom, and grandmother. She loves Jesus Christ and the church. As a ladies’ speaker, experienced biblical counselor, and former pastor’s wife, she blesses people with her blog melissadawnbaker.com. Her blog serves as an encouragement for believers to keep their eyes on the Lord, that is, to be faithful because we know He is faithful, plus provides counseling resources.
Melissa’s original post first appeared on her blog here.
Image Credit melissadawnbaker.com
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