The Right Place
Today’s devotional was written by my son, Clark Wrather, who is the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Broken Bow, Oklahoma.
For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, you are God’s building. – 1 Corinthians 3:9.
Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us: we implore you on Christ’s behalf, be reconciled to God. – 2 Corinthians 5:20.
By now, most of you have heard that Mason made it through his surgery just fine. He is still healing and doing well. If you took, time to pray for him, thank you so much! You have most likely heard about my accident or saw the garish looking slice to my forehead. (Clark does not explain so I will. The day before Mason’s surgery, they had gone to a store. A display appeared it might fall on Mason and when Clark stepped over to stop it, a piece of Plexiglas came up and hit him in the forehead.)
When Libby and I left the store where I was injured, we were going to the ER at Presbyterian Hospital (in Dallas, TX). There was a hospital just one mile from the store, but I had never heard of it. I believe the name was, HDH Memorial Hospital. What the HDH stands for I have no idea. It probably means, High-Dollar-Health if it’s similar to my experience with other hospitals.
Due to construction on I-635 and the amount of pain I was in at the time, we decided to forgo the emergency room at Presbyterian and take a chance on this HDH Hospital. I was really worried about the level of care I would receive at this little place I had never heard of before. I mean this is my face we’re talking about and doing anything possible to keep it from looking worse than it already does was a priority. Would this little place be able to handle it? Would they make things worse? Would my forehead have this huge nasty scar from now on? These were a few of the things that passed through my mind, while I held a pressure patch against my head and filled out multiple pages, flashed insurance cards, and signed an oath in blood to eventually receive emergency care.
Actually, I received excellent care. After the glue was in place, a male nurse asked me what I did for a living. This was right before I was going to walk out of there. I told him I was a Baptist minister in Broken Bow, OK. He sat down then and told me his wife had filed for divorce and he didn’t want one. I wanted to focus on myself at the moment. I mean I had just had a bloody accident, been stitched up and glued shut. Surely, I had a right to be selfish at this moment.
Those thoughts flashed through my mind briefly before I told him, “Tell me about it.” He did for about 10-15 minutes. I gave him advice at different times and then had prayer with the guy. He cried.
Here’s the deal, I knew that I had been at the exact place where I needed to be. I was right where God wanted me to be. It was a divine appointment and I could have easily and selfishly wasted it.
Some of you may need to listen to a stranger, but I bet most of you need to sit down and really listen to what your husband or wife has to say for a change. Take a break and look your children in the eyes and listen to them. Listen to that friend of yours, instead of talking about yourself. You may be the only person in their life, that will listen.
(Even in difficult situations we should be aware that God may want to use us.)