I got a pastor-type call last night around
8:30 (didn’t recognize the area code at all).
Actually it was literally a pastor call.
A guy who identified himself as “a pastor for many years in the Tyler
area” called to ask if I could make a hospital visit. That was not so unusual. I have received many of those requests over
the years. I’m not at all sure how he
got my cell phone number. I didn’t get
much chance to ask questions. The guy
really loved to talk. I heard about his
years in the ministry, how he didn’t have a church right now, but he was going
to be singing at some big church in Houston, how at his last church “here in
Jacksonville” (there was a clue) they had several adults become Christians only
to have “this one old fellow” really hit on them about tithing until he ran
them off. I heard all about his Baptist
political leanings. He wanted to know
what I was preaching on this morning. It
took a while for me to get out of him just who it was he wanted me to go
see. His son and family were in
Galveston on vacation when his son became ill.
His wife took him to UTMB emergency room and left their thirteen year
old daughter in charge of her two siblings (ages one and two) back at the hotel
room. The youngest had had roseola, and
he was sure the dad had contracted some version of it, causing him to have
trouble breathing. That sounded funny to
me (really sounded funny to Chris), and I tried to question it, but all I could
get in was to mention “measles.” He
never heard me. I never did really get
out of him whether he wanted me to go take care of the children or go to the
hospital. As we were talking he told me
his wife had just made contact with the granddaughter at the hotel. He said he would call me back.
After ten or fifteen minutes he did call
back to say they were going to keep the son overnight, the wife was headed back
to the hotel to pick up the kids, and they would be leaving. He thanked me and again hung up. End of story, right? Not so much.
In about ten minutes the phone rang again, this time with an entirely
different area code. This was the pastor’s
daughter from Boot Hill, Missouri, sister of the guy in the hospital. She shared some more details about their family
dynamics, primarily that there must be five or six of them who are
pastors. Guess that was supposed to
endear them to my heart even more. She
was at least clear about the request.
Would I simply visit the brother and pray with him. She knew he would appreciate it and the
family certainly would.
By that time I was intrigued, so I headed
out to the hospital to meet the mystery patient. He was a very nice guy, obviously not feeling
well, but in great spirits. He told several
jokes and had a wry sense of humor. He
was a psychiatric nurse out of Jacksonville, Texas. He said his dad was 77 years old (which also
explained a lot). They were holding him
while they checked for pneumonia, not roseola.
I stayed for a few minutes, listening to some of his stories about why
he was sure beyond a doubt that God was real and had intervened numerous times
in his own life. Very uplifting for
me. I think it helped him to talk about
it, as well. We prayed together, and he
reminded me to “use some of that chemical stuff on your hands” when I left. Fine ending to one of the good ones, as pastoral
visits go.
Pslams 20:7 says, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of
the Lord our God.”
Father, please do some healing work over
there at the hospital. Take care of your
child, Robin, and bring peace to his family.
Amen.
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