The Waiting Room

Posted on September 26, 2006
Filed Under Daily News, Faith |

I saw my neurosurgeon on Monday. It was just a regular out patient’s appointment, but it meant schlepping up to Queen Mary Hospital again.

My appointment was for 2:00 and I arrived a little early, headed to the 1^st floor and paid the appointment fee at the schroff office. I then went up to the 4^th floor, handed in my appointment slip and the receipt from the schroff. And, as requested, I took a seat and waited.

The first thing I noticed was that the waiting room was quite full. An hour and a half later, they finally called my name! And, that was quicker than I had expected.

I was first diagnosed in February 2002. In the four years and seven months since then, how many hours have I wasted in this place? How long have I spent soaking up the twin spirits of despair and despondency that flood that room?

Looking around the room at the other patients, many of whom are elderly, one cannot help but wonder what kind of quality of life can they look forward to even if they do recover from whatever is afflicting them.

I wound up sitting next to a fashionably dressed young woman, who reached into her purse and pulled out a series of print outs from a sonogram. Glancing over her shoulder, I couldn’t make out any details, but I tried to imagine what hurts, what wounds she was carrying.

It was then that I was struck by the overwhelming thought:

How much better would her life be, would the life of everybody there be, if they knew the Good News of Jesus Christ!

The waiting room

I wanted to cry because I didn’t know how to reach out to them.

Lord, help me to reach out to my brother man. Equip me to be able to reveal the wonder of your Grace. Allow me to share their pain. Show me how to share your love, not looking down from safe vantage point, but by getting down on my knees in the mud alongside those who need you most, both in Hong Kong and on the Thai/Burma border.

After my appointment, I headed down to the bus stop and I passed the spot where I had stood all those years ago trying to come to terms with the diagnosis I just been given. At the time, I felt all alone, with this Sword of Damocles, hanging over me.

It was there that God had first spoken to me. “It’s okay, I am with you and I’ll never leaver you,” He whispered. I imagine a lot of the people in that waiting room need to hear the same words.

I’m planning on leaving in a few weeks, the money side seems to have sorted itself out and now its just a matter of arranging medical insurance and taking care of the logistics.

Finding spomnsors was relatively easy and it seems that having provided the resources for me, God is now preparing my heart for the work ahead.

In the meantime, I’m here in the waiting room.