Here I am, again, in a lab waiting room, again, having just come from radiology, again, checking my liver, again.

You never get used to chronic illness.

But then you do.

But then you see a friend in the waiting room at radiology, she found a lump, they are sure it’s nothing.

You wonder, am I here for my tests, because of me? Or am I here to keep company with a friend, making a nerve-raking waiting room a little more bearable.

After all what is this all about? Me? Or Him?

In my still short life, I’ve seen death and life in hospital waiting rooms.

It doesn’t strike me till I’m in the car.

I didn’t pray with her!

Lord, why didn’t I pray with her?

For all my pomp, for all my words and dedication, I’ve failed yet again.

The failure bites.

I’ve seen death and life in hospital waiting rooms.

What better place to reach out and touch people with His love?

A person known, or unknown, a person of faith, or no faith, in a hospital waiting room we are all so vulnerable. This place, for most, is not common place. This place, for most, is frightening.

Why didn’t I pray with her?

I offered a few minutes visit, we discussed why we were there, she was nervous, I could tell. I don’t blame her, I’m there all the time and I still get nervous.

Why didn’t I pray with her?

She knows God, did I think that meant I could skip Him?

Every day God gives us opportunities to reach out, to look up from our phones and to look out of our lives and to see those around us as He sees them.

Every day God gives us life to LIVE! Life to live for Him.

Christ went every day about His Fathers business, and that is what He calls us to as well. But do we live about our Fathers business, or our own? Who’s agenda are we checking off today?

For as long as I’ve known Him, for as much testimony He has placed in my life, for as much teaching and insight He’s blessed me with, I still, so often, miss what is most important.

Living to live His life, not mine. Speaking to speak His words, not mine. Seeking to make Him known, not me.

He must become greater, I must become less.

Every day is a mission, every place a mission field, and no matter who you are in His kingdom, you are called.

In the hospital waiting room, you are called, in the office, you are called, at the park, you are called, in the PTA meeting, you are called.

You volunteer at church? Good. But do you volunteer at home? At work? At your In-Laws?

Do I?

I sit now at home, and I say a prayer for my friend. I pray that God holds her close and brings the comfort and confidence I never could. I pray that her tests come out fine, that God’s hand works powerfully in her life, and most of all, that her eyes always will turn towards Him.

And I pray that God works in me, that prayer becomes my native tongue, and that my first thought in every circumstance would be: How can I serve God here today? How can I serve those He loves here today?

Join with me?

Joy Aletheia Stevens