After just having a check-up at UNC (the results of which are beyond amazing), I had to go to a local pharmacy this morning for another check-up of sorts; and I was none too happy about it. For the benefit of our insurance company (and us too I guess), my spouse and I have begun to have annual wellness checks. These checks involve such pleasant things as finger sticks and waist measurements and a calculation of the body’s overall fat content. So, needless to say, I was dreading this additional check for many reasons.
Though I showed up early this morning, the pharmacy was still pretty busy and I had more time than I thought I should to stand around and contemplate what was ahead of me; and the fact that I had been fasting since dinner last night certainly did not help my mood at all. And then, when I finally did sit down across from the pharmacist with a sharp stick in her hand, my grumpiness quickly subsided and I found myself positively awed by how very carefully my presence there with her had been engineered.
You see, this pharmacist had just found out that her beloved aunt is sick with cancer, a type of cancer with which I’m all too familiar–multiple myeloma. She told me this after I told her that I had gone through cancer and much treatment for it. I never told her what type of cancer though, until she told me about her aunt. We then talked much about treatment options/places, and I tried really hard to convince her to bring her aunt down to UNC’s Lineberger Cancer Center since I think it’s the finest medical institution on the planet. I even wrote my oncologist’s name down for her. “He’s awesome,” I told her. “She would really love him.”
I also encouraged my new friend to not pay attention to the medical statistics regarding outcomes as I feel like much of what’s out there does not take into account all of the new therapies and other changes in the field. She thanked me for talking with her and she told me that she was encouraged and that she couldn’t believe the timing of my visit. And I left her today so very encouraged myself as I see God continuing to allow my path to cross with people who need hope for the exact same reason that I did.
My friend who owns our local tea room would no doubt call my encounter with the pharmacist today a “God smile,” and I would have to agree. It’s not that God’s ever happy we’re suffering–that’s never the case. But, I do believe that, when we choose to allow our suffering to be beneficial to/for others, God does smile somberly and sweetly. Yes, I think it makes him most happy to see us look just a little more like him–like someone whose suffering, whose whole life, is more about others than anything else.
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