Had an MRI done. As this was done – and I officially dislike those things – I thanked the tech person, Rachel. After thanking her several times she came on the patient to tech mic system and asked, “Why do you keep thanking me?”
“Because you are serving me.”
“In all of my years of working here no one has ever once thanked me for doing their MRI – ever.”
“I think that’s sad Rachel. You are here doing your job faithfully, serving, and people are so preoccupied with their pain (which is true for nearly all MRI patients including me) that they can’t think to thank you…? I find that sad. May I ask you to forgive all of those people for their hardness of heart over those years?”
Silence on the microphone.
When the MRI was over Rachel came back in. Middle-aged, Rachel had read my chart, about my death experience.
She asked me to tell her about my experience with that. She listened carefully, asked several questions.
I happened to have a copy of The Day I Died which I gave to her.
My friend John waited for me as I spoke to her.
Finally, I took the risk of asking if I could pray for her – for just ten seconds. Like over 400 before her she said yes without hesitation.
I promised her I wouldn’t even close my eyes to pray. As I began to pray I had a strong sense she had a teenaged daughter she was struggling with that she felt she was in a losing battle – almost like her daughter was leaving her emotionally. I stepped out and prayed for Jesus to give Rachel his power in this relationship with her teen daughter, etc. I looked up and Rachel was streaming with tears.
“So do you have a teen daughter you are struggling with…?”
She shook yes – she was hesitant to speak – on the verge of openly weeping.
As John and I walked out the door a moment later Rachel had regained her calm a bit. She said, “You are by far the most interesting patient I’ve had in over a decade of doing MRIs… I will read your book very carefully…”
What she called “interesting” was really just God’s Spirit at work in her heart.