The sign said “Valet Parking for Patients”. That was me. I was the patient arriving at the IU Simon Cancer Center. I had chosen to come alone (that’s another story), so I decided taking advantage of valet parking might be a good idea. I handed over my keys, took the ticket, and proceeded through the automatic double doors.
I passed more than a few patients who were clearly not doing well. Many of them were being pushed in wheelchairs. Most of them had lost all of their hair. Their skin was ashen and exhaustion seemed to be a prevailing theme in their eyes. But I love making a connection with people, so this was no exception. I smiled and said “Good morning” or “Hello” to each of them in an effort to let them know that someone “saw” them.
At the reception desk, I inquired about the location of the office of Dr. Lawrence Mark, Dermatology. I was directed to the left, around the curving hallway to the elevator, and proceed to the second floor. The ding of the elevator door signaled my arrival and I stepped out.
I approached the first window that appeared to have answers for me. At 7:30 am, I was the only person in the waiting area; that didn’t make me sad. I couldn’t identify my emotions, but I was sure that I didn’t want to feel obligated to interact with anyone else. That’s when I met Charlotte.
“You must be Michele”, she said. “It’s so nice to meet you.” She took care of the monotonous details (scanning my insurance card, confirming my phone number, etc.), while also demonstrating tremendous grace in answering a phone call, helping a coworker, and probably a few other things I failed to notice. The smile on her face and the sweet sound of her voice were just enough to calm the raging anxiety that threatened to begin oozing from the inside out. I couldn’t help but notice the prayer that was taped to the pod where I stood. This was clearly no accident. It was just another piece of the plan that God had been revealing to me, and Charlotte was the character for this particular scene.
One person. One short chat over coffee. (Wait. I don’t drink coffee. It’s gonna need to be half-sweet and half unsweet tea.) One smile. One encouraging word. One day. I’m pretty sure we underestimate the significance. I know I did for a very long time. But not any longer.
When was the last time you considered all of the one-on-one encounters that God had or that Jesus personally had? Over and over again in scripture we see the focus on an individual. There were likely a myriad of distractions happening all around. But the story blurs out the busyness and zooms in on Mary, Peter, John and a long list of others.
It’s so easy to get distracted and lose sight of the mission. To forget that He left the 99 to rescue one. We “don’t have time” or we’re “not equipped” or whatever other excuse you can conjure up in your silly mind. But we make it so much harder than it needs to be. You might be called by Him to plan a brunch with the lady who sits across the aisle at church (no time for questions, just do it). Maybe he’s asking you to mentor the 18-year-old who is always seeking you out for wisdom, but she’s too afraid to ask. But it might be less complicated than that. What if you’re just supposed to shine the light of Jesus to the next person you stand behind in the checkout line? Or maybe the grumpy goose at the sign-in desk at the fitness center?
Charlotte understood the mission fourteen years ago, and she still understands the mission today. This picture was taken at my appointment last month. Fourteen years ago, this woman brought me the face of Jesus when I was crumbling. Nothing has changed. Charlotte is being faithful to the mission and I’m eternally grateful. I’m a life that has been impacted by her actions. It just takes one.
John 4:34 ~ My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to accomplish his work.