“but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
    they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

Within the last week, we’ve found ourselves sitting in waiting rooms again. I wrote about this a couple of months ago while sitting in the above waiting room for Paul to have his shot in the eye for macular degeneration. I can’t begin to imagine this procedure and fortunately God has left me with one remaining sense which happens to be my eyesight. The rest of me could be considered senseless. As we are in the final stretch of a lifetime, these waiting rooms have become like a second home of sorts. Last week, Paul had a CT scan and blood work to see what was going on with his cancer. The next few days later, we met with the oncologist. The results were remarkable. Paul’s tumor is shrinking. His blood work was all in the normal range and his vitals were right where they should be. Praise God! The oncologist found these results unexplainable, but we know that God is the reason for this good news. Still, cancer remains in his body and we will meet again in January to see if anything has changed. (without explanation.)

These waiting room experiences are becoming a sort of refuge for the time waiting. I’m beginning to become an extrovert as I talk to those waiting along with me. Yesterday, I almost felt like I was becoming a clone of my husband. Before he was called in for his appointment, he’d struck up a conversation with a fellow who was waiting for his wife. It began with reference to the walking stick Paul carries to brace himself these days. It’s a homemade stick which has some intricate patterns whittled into it by Paul. The top part of the cane was formerly attached to a horse’s hane. It is quite interesting and almost always begs a comment or two.

This time it was my turn to talk. Once Paul was called into the Dr.’s office, I picked up where he’d left off. The fellow seemed to be in need of someone to talk to and most everyone else in the place was glued to their phones. He talked about his time in the Marines in Viet Nam. He spoke about his retirement home in the north woods. We shared the many ailments that we go through as we get older. After 45 minutes of waiting, I felt as if I knew the guy’s full life story. His life, like ours, has been filled with ups and downs. Many of his friends have passed away – he has suffered several heart attacks – and has had to change his lifestyle over the past few years. I could totally relate. I told him about the challenges we’re facing right now and the peace we have with our decision not to opt for any treatment for Paul’s cancer, knowing that life doesn’t end when we die. It was an opening for discussion about God. I discovered that the man was a churchgoer, but he had doubts if there would be a place for him in heaven.

I don’t consider myself an evangelist and I often have doubts if I will make it through the pearly gates, but the door was open. ‘So we talked about faith and the free gift of heaven. As we talked about all this, I could see a younger woman taking interest in our conversation. She joined in. It was like an instant connection all around. You never know where God is going to use you each day. For me, yesterday it was a waiting room. When Paul returned from his visit with his doctor, he was stunned to find me engaged in conversation and laughter with a new set of friends. So was I. It was a good day.