Storylines

Something "glitched" with my computer and this didn't get posted. I haven't been slackin' or forgot about ya! Here's what I intended to post yesterday .

Well, the "walk and munch" was sure fun. At least I thought so anyway.

I was surprised when Joanna and I couldn't find a parking spot at Riverfront last Saturday. It did make a difference that it was the first really nice day Salem had in weeks. Somebody prayed.

But the real shock came when I stepped out of the van. Over 100 smiling faces greeted me. Amazing. I promptly forgot most everything I was going to say. Nobody knew.

We headed out at our own paces. It was fun to see people from young kids to the over 80 crowd. Families. Friends. Mother/daughter, husband/wife, grandma/granddaughter combinations. One celebrating a birthday (one of the things I forgot to mention--sorry Michelle!). One processing the grief of losing a loved one just days before. One who slipped a Jamba Juice into my hand (thanks, Christy!) My walk and munch became a walk, sip and munch.

Lots of good conversation. Plenty of smiles. An abundance of curious looks and not a few "what's going on here" questions.

I owe Mike at Great Harvest an apology.

"I don't know whether to expect 25 or 75," I told him a week earlier. "Let's plan for 50."

So we doubled that and then some. We were just a couple cookies short of a perfect day.

Thanks to all who celebrated God's healing journey with us. I greatly appreciate all of you who are part of this blog community.

I pray that this blogging experience wouldn't just be about Joanna and me…although it is a great source of encouragement to us. But I pray and long that our story would assist you in writing yours better. "Let us spur one another on to love and good works," the author of Hebrews tells us. May this blog be a practical expression of that verse.

Speaking of stories, mine keeps getting more interesting. I'm writing this blog from a lobby of the beautiful Mayo Clinic facility in Scottsdale, AZ. It's bonus that I've been able to spend the last few days with our daughter and son-in-law, Anna and Jeff. They sure know how to host a dad.

I'll plan to give a full account of my adventure here next week. I've got a page full of appointments that I need to finish before the story is complete.

For today, I'll report that the Mayo appears to be a happy place to work. The staff seems relaxed. They appear to actually like working together. Kindness permeates. They've built this place around caring for people. I feel valued.

All this changes when my doctor enters the room. He is a man who evidently views words as currency and he's the embodiment of "cheap." He grew up in the Great Verbal Depression. Words are to be saved, not foolishly spent. His Rule of Operation (an unstated rule, obviously): "Never use a sentence when a single word will do."

I respect him, though. His silence makes one think he must be brilliant. Talking only delays the opportunity to think and he has a lot to think about right now: me.

I take his cue. This preacher will join him in the silence and let him do his brain work.

When my appointment with him was over and I was back at the scheduling desk, the receptionist cautiously asked me how it went. Evidently he has a reputation.

"I thought he was great," I said.

"He wasn't …" She was careful with her words. "Well, some patients just don't like him very well."

"I wasn't hoping to make a friend. I just wanted his medical help."

She breathed a sigh of relief and commended my approach.

And I was reminded that the expectations we bring into a room--or a relationship--matters immensely. More than one perfectly beneficial experience is ruined because it wasn't the experience I expected to have.

It's impossible to never have expectations. That's not the goal. But it is possible to be aware of our expectations…and alter them if they are messing things up.

Don't expect the doctor to be your friend, too. Just let her or him be your medical expert.
Don't expect the fastest or most talented person on the team be the team leader, too. They may not have that gift.
Don't expect your church to be your sole source of spiritual development. It should be a source, but not the source.
Don't expect your neighbor to be neighborly and help you with your home project. If they do. Fantastic. If not, you shouldn't be mad at them for not meeting your arbitrary expectations.
Don't expect your spouse to meet all of your needs. He/she is your spouse, not your God.

You get the point. You will write better chapters to your story as you understand what is driving the main character's actions.

More next week,
John