When I imagined this day, I did not foresee good things. It was to be long and stressful and bothersome.

I began the morning with another procedure, a biopsy. Pastor D did not accompany me on this one, but I had wanted to ask him there. It seemed like too much. He did agree to call me to make sure I was awake. This was a good thing given the fact that I set my alarm for 6:30 PM instead of AM. [Perhaps I really didn’t want to be there.]

The nurse was not a patient woman. She was not patient with my reticence to strip for something I felt required merely a lifted shirt. Of course, I had already been stewing over the whole event for a half hour, stewing in my fear among other things. She stormed out, slamming the door. I vomited. Altogether it was not the most auspicious beginning.

In the parking lot, I had paused to read the Bible, flipping back and forth, trying to find something that might be applicable to the moment, something to still me. Eventually landing in the first chapter of 1 Peter:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls. (verses 3-9)

For the rest of the procedure, I tried to focus on those words, rather than how I felt or the nurse's anger with me.

The doctor was kind and patient and insisted that whatever I needed to feel comfortable was exactly how it should be. Of course, being comfortable did not quite include the precise amount of anesthetic necessary for the procedure. I clearly felt the last few snips and the last two stitches.

Afterward, I made my way to work and tried to be productive until my phone signaled it was time to drop off my car at the repair shop so that the internal parts of the bumper could be checked to ensure they had not been compromised in the accident last Monday.

Now, I had been quite careful to ask for a SUV so that I would not get stuck with a rental that was hard to get in and out of—the reason we were in my car and not Pastor D’s when he was playing chauffeur as well as undershepherd. The agent had confirmed that request, but when I arrived to exchange vehicles, I learned that somehow an agent had mistakenly sent my SUV rental out earlier this morning.

Before I knew what was happening, these three men literally lined up all the vehicles left for rental at Enterprise and practiced getting in and out of them until they narrowed the choices down to two for me to try. They were all in agreement that this mid-sized, black pick-up truck was the one that would serve me best, but they wanted me to also try the sedan they had thought might be acceptable.

I was already tired from a long night of fretting, the stress of the biopsy appointment, and laboriously crossing the large footprint of the repair complex. By this time, I had been up and about and mainly on my feet for four hours. So, I told them I really needed to get my cane before testing out their selections. One of the men quickly volunteered to fetch it for me and was gone before I could tell him which one that I wanted. Even though I was rather dressed up today, he did not come back with the flowered cane. He said that he thought if I was going to be in a pick-up truck, I should be using the “rough and tumble one” (the black aluminum cane that I got for Huntley Meadows, i.e., walking outdoors).

Then, ignoring the fact that I was standing in their midst, the three men had this vigorous debate about girly I am and how they felt badly about putting me in a pick-up, wondering if they should ask for another vehicle to be driven over and mulling over where they would be most likely to find what I needed. Me! Girly! I feel such the oaf most of the time!

There I was, surrounded by strange men who really had no concept of personal space and laughing my head off. Did you know that I have porcelain skin? I didn't. That was their assessment. One said I looked like a doll his daughter has with my porcelain skin and auburn hair and big brown eyes. The others agreed. This was not a case of flirting, mind you. Somehow, basically, I had become their life-sized doll!

When it was finally time to leave, the three of them made this big production about moving over my phone and GPS cords, my CDs, my shopping bags, the Handicapped placard, my umbrella, and the items I have ready to donate but have yet to get to the Vets place. They only very reluctantly added the girly cane.

Oh, the Lord God is most magnificent! I felt as if my Savior was dancing around me in that parking lot, laughing with me at the rather silly exchange and bringing peace to a situation that otherwise would have made me quite nervous. I was not frustrated at the delay (both in the choosing and in the cleaning of the pick-up they insisted was necessary before I left). I was not bothered by the unusual rental. All I could think was that I was the recipient of extraordinary care...that a day which began so terribly had turned rather sweet...that a dark moment had passed and a richer one was before me.