The parson crashed into his recliner when he got home. For the last few days he’d been commuting to a community a little over an hour’s ride from his home. An uncle, in his eighties and for whom the parson had responsibility as well as power of attorney, had fallen and broken his hip. It was a bad break and complicated by the effects from the uncle’s childhood polio.
The pastor sat in the surgery waiting room, laptop on lap with fingers pecking away whenever they won the struggle for dominance over his nodding head. Gradually the nodding head proclaimed victory over the fingers and the parson put the laptop away and dozed.
A hand gently shaking his shoulder brought him back to the land of the conscious. The surgeon stood before him with that cocky look of one who had just done well what he did best. The parson stood, “Sorry, Doctor, I must have dozed off.”
“No problem,” he responded with a grin that announced the victory before the words. “He’s in recovery right now. Everything went well.” The surgeon sat in the seat next to the parson. He took out a pad and pen and began to diagram for the parson what he’d done. “And everything matched up perfectly. The surgery was everything we could have asked for. Now it’s all up to your uncle and how he handles the rehab.”
The parson asked a few questions and, as the doctor responded, marveled at this physician with the unique ability to look him in the eye and give forth the impression he had all the time in the world for such important people. He even agreed to report the results to the parson’s sister via the parson’s cell phone.
With the doctor’s departure, the parson headed back to his uncle’s hospital room. There he looked over a list of facilities provided by a hospital social worker for rehab facilities. The parson realized he was not well enough informed with the geographical area to make a decision. On impulse he called his uncle’s pastor.
A short while later as he sat in the room, his uncle still asleep from the medications, there was a quiet tap on the door. The uncle’s pastor stood there. The two greeted each other, each knowing the as members of the Order of Elders but not personally. Down the hall they went, to a quiet, private room. The parson explained his difficulties. The pastor talked of his uncle. The conversation continued for an hour.
Later the pastor leaned over the bed of the now conscious uncle. He spoke words of encouragement to him. Then he prayed. He prayed for the uncle. He prayed for the parson. He prayed for the members of the church who would now make it their ministry to care for their brother.
The parson walked with the pastor to the hospital entrance. He bid the man farewell with appreciation for his efforts. The parson watched the pastor walk from the hospital to his car. The parson turned and walked back toward his uncle’s room with a list of rehab facilities in hand. In addition the parson held a list of laity in the church the pastor had lined up to assist with the transition.
Now reclining in the recliner the parson gave the day's tension permission to go away and said a silent prayer of gratitude for the blessing of encountering A Pastor.
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