If ever there was a moment of Grace on this earth since our Lord and Savior died on the cross, it came this day.

Pastor arrived just after 11:00 for my much dreaded trip to the day-surgery unit at the hospital for a procedure. I could almost have shot him for being so cheerful, so positive about my ability to walk through those doors. I restrained myself.

While in admitting, I started coughing and used my inhaler. Before long, I was in need of the nebulizer. That meant I could not be sedated. More waiting, more worrying, more battling my fears. Pastor started me off with prayer and was shuttled off to the waiting room (where he prayed more), far sooner than I wanted. Being alone in that place was nearly impossible for a while there.

However, I would be churlish if I didn't admit that the women whom were given my care did everything, absolutely everything, they possibly could to ensure that I felt safe and comfortable. Long before I achieved that state, they were there, working to break through my fear. They genuinely wanted to help and never once treated me as if there was something wrong with me for being afraid. The reason did not matter. They only desired for me to have a positive experience.

I awoke with chest pain, so my departure was delayed. Then, just as we left the hospital, another delay happened. There we were, waiting on a light, talking about the choice Joshua offer the people of Israel, when BAM! The car behind us slammed into my car. We were the first car in a three-car pile up. My first response was to cry out to Pastor, "Why can't my life be easier? Just once, why can't it be easier!" His response? Well, to hop out and ensure everyone was okay and then to shepherd us all through the tedious process of taking a report and exchanging information.

The accident happened right in front of a police officer who was writing a speeding ticket, so more police, firemen, and an abulance was on the scene seemingly immediately. In my county, apparently, there is a regulation that vehicles in an accident had to be turned off until it was determined that nothing was leaking. While that is well and good, I immediately panicked about not having air-conditioning. The firemen wanted me out of the car, but I could barely stand having gone 5 days without my arthritis medicine in preparation for my procedure and the anesthesia and the lack of food and the stress. The poor service men thought I needed treatment, but both Pastor and I explained that I had just left the hospital!

Pastor had slated his afternoon to care for a member of his flock. He missed that. He had planned on having dinner with his children. He missed that. I would surmise that it was 7:30 PM before he arrived back home, after taking me to Target for my June prescriptions and just one very last doctrine question on my stoop.

I don't belong to his church. I am not a Lutheran. Who I am to receive such care from him? His answer would simply be that I am a child of God who is in need. That is all that matters to him. Spend hours listening to, teaching, and comforting a woman with many questions and big fears. Spend afternoons loading a smelly lawnmower in a car, driving across town, and tending to someone's yard. Spend a day stuck in a hospital waiting room. Spend the evening sweating on the side of the road. All that is a privilege to him!

Pastoral care, kind and thoughtful personnel, anesthesia drugs that keep you from remembering--all Grace in my life today!