God Still Watches Out For Us

When God's children face trials and the petty harassments of the Prince of this world, he looks on approvingly. He absolutely hates God's children. CS Lewis captured that in Screwtape Letters where he showed the devils hatred for any bit of pleasure or comfort we draw from life - be it a good meal or a hot shower.

Today I witnessed just this sort of petty demonic harassment as the devil threw everything but the kitchen sink at us in an attempt to ruin a lovely and special opportunity we had to experience a once in a lifetime joy. It is our 50th wedding anniversary and my daughter and son-in-law paid for a cruise to Alaska with them and they are bringing the grandson along to play with Grammy and Poppy. We are so looking forward to the trip. The last days before the trip, however, the demons attacked us to try and destroy even this happiness for us. 

We leave tomorrow, on Monday.  A week ago I contacted my HMO about getting Sheila's most critical medication sent early so she wouldn't run out during the week. The pharmacy said they'd handle it. Having that med is serious. To run out of that medicine in the middle of the trip would have resulted in panic attacks, seizures, and possible hospitalization at sea. We leave on the 20th, but her schedule 4 medication would not be released until the 23rd. The doctor has to approve early release. She was going to run out and she can't do that.  I checked to make sure the medication had been shipped Friday afternoon and to my shock, it had not even been approved. Someone in the system dropped the ball and failed to forward the request to release her meds early in time for the trip.

The next morning I got on the phone to find out what happened and to try and get her medicine released. That's when I began to hit brick wall after brick wall. The upshot was that the consulting nurse said it couldn't be done. So did the customer service lady, the chat utility person and the nurse at the one clinic that was actually open on the weekend. They told me we couldn't even get help at the emergency room because of this new federal law restricting schedule 4 meds. I finally arranged a video chat with the HMO's on duty emergency tele-medicine doctor and after explaining the situation he put me on hold and when he came back sometime later, he told me that the med had been approved and was being filled, but that the note requesting "early release for travel" had inexplicably been left off. He talked to the pharmacy for us but couldn't prescribe that med himself because of a new federal law that makes schedule 4 meds much harder to prescribe and get delivered. Dr. D. finally said we could go pick it up, but we'd have to go to the Tacoma HMO pharmacy nearly 30 miles away. He was right about that. He was wrong about us being able to "pick it up."

The 30 miles presented another problem as we no longer have a car, are on a very fixed income, are both disabled and public transportation to a whole other city is really problematic on weekends. It takes 3 days just to get a paratransit bus to the bus stop. And her psychiatrist's office is closed on the weekend and apparently they don't have on-call docs in an emergency for psychiatrists.

I'm going a bit off my story here. It seems the feds are okay with legalizing marijuana, opening borders for the drug mules, and even allowing some pharmacies to carry over-the-counter morphine. But my wife's prescribed by a doctor anti-anxiety medication requires practically an act of congress to get a few days early so we can celebrate our 50th anniversary. (end of rant)

Our neighbor, Dan, a wonderful human being, when I asked if he could drive us down to the bus stop, immediately left his supper and said he was going to take us all the way to the Tacoma clinic. God bless that man for his kindness. When we got to the clinic, we hit road blocks again and again. The pharmacy wouldn't release the medication to us. so we had to go to the urgent care clinic there and wait an hour or so to see a doctor. All the nurses and receptionists at the urgent care told us they weren't going to be able to release her meds. One even chided us for not planning our trip properly.  

What she meant by planning our trip better was to go through all 15 medications and determine when each ran out and then plan our cruise for the window in the dates when nothing was going to run out. There was no sense from these unpleasant women that the HMO should adapt to our schedule and maybe give us the extra we needed to last the length of the cruise. They seemed oblivious to the fact that the cruise lines' sailing dates are planned more than a year ahead and that the ships are highly unlikely to move around their embarkation dates based on 6000 passengers' medication refill schedules. I'm afraid I lost my temper a bit and threatened to sue somebody.

I went back to the exam room and found poor Sheila prepared to just stay home and send me on the cruise without her. It seemed pretty hopeless. So we did what we always do when things seem  hopeless. We prayed and asked God to help us, for without God's intervention, it looked very much like Sheila wasn't going to be able to go on our 50th anniversary cruise. Her most critical medication would run out 2 days into the trip and our HMO was adamantly denying our request to get the refills before we leave Monday. Without that med her life would be placed at risk on a boat out at sea. It looked very like she was going to have to stay behind while our family went on our 50th anniversary cruise without her and I wasn't going without her so everyone on the cruise would be celebrating our anniversary without us. I wasn't going to let that happen, so I kept fighting to get her meds, taking on every naysayer who popped up to tell us it wasn't going to happen.

After we prayed in the urgent care examination room, a young doctor came in a short time later. Although every HMO staff member had told us no way were we getting her medicine, the doc took pity on us. Turns out he kind of stuck his neck out to get her meds covered for the trip. If her psychiatrist didn't back his play, he could have been in real trouble for what he did. He ordered enough of her meds to get us through the trip and home. It took some doing, but this kind man got it done. God bless him.

What Satan means for evil, God works out for good. The devil works in broad strokes to corrupt our culture, our political system and our religions, but as time grows shorter, he grows desperate and is reduced to turning the forces evil loose in ever more petty attempts to harass good people. Petty demons try hard to spoil any good and worthy thing; every bit of joy we may have if they can. 

So, we had a little miracle yesterday. Today we're packing for the boat. Tomorrow we leave at 7 am for the Royal Caribbean Cruise Terminal, an hour away in Seattle. We've never been on a cruise before. We've never been to Alaska or Canada. We've never seen the northern lights, glaciers, whales or brown bears. And we get to travel all that way in comfort, even though our knees and hips are wrecked, our mobility is limited, and we live on a fixed income. Our children are good to us, our neighbors are good to us and God especially is good to us. I've got a great pair of binoculars and my grandson and I are looking forward to watching whales from the balcony of our cabin and Sheila and I to spending time with our kids who live 3000 miles away. Sabbath we will spend at sea in the midst of God's natural beauty. Even as the world winds down, our loving Savior is there for us to give us joy and encouragement amidst the storms of life.

God is so very good.

© 2024 by Tom King

Answer to Prayers?

There's a signpost up ahead.

A friend asked, "What was the most remarkable answer to a prayer you've prayed?" I was stumped. There are so many remarkable answers to prayers I've seen I can't really choose. God has answered long nagging prayers, formal prayers, walking prayers, thought prayers and one word cries for help. One of the most memorable ones happened when my wife and I were running an intergenerational day care center in Tyler, Texas.

We'd been working hard that autumn to get the budget under control and to handle some personnel issues we had going at the time. There were three individuals in particular who were giving us a hard time in particular. We'd gotten the budget under control, but in doing so we took a little of the authority away from the folks who had gotten us into trouble in the first place. I'd gotten a grant to cover my own salary so the center wouldn't be on the hook for that. We revised the accounting system with another grant that gave us a consulting CPA. We were on our way to having a healthy cash reserve in order to move the center from the church facility we were then occupying into a new facility we were planning to build or purchase. 

The church was unhappy with us. They were worried about a recent incident at another church center and feared we could be sued if something like that happened with us.  Secondly, they had been carrying the financial overages for the center and couldn't why the books looked good but the center was unable to contribute rent to the church. Finally, one of the staff, a church member was sowing discontent in the congregation because she'd not been given the executive director job and I had.

In the middle of all of this, Sheila and I decided one Saturday afternoon in April to drive out to Caddo Lake where our daughter and son-in-law and my son were camping with friends. On the way, we drove past the day care center and saw three cars in the parking lot. It was our three disgruntled employees.

We though, "Oh, oh, this can't be good." I dropped by and sure enough the two department heads and the bookkeeper where huddled in the office. When we came through the door you never saw a guiltier looking bunch. When I asked them what they were up to, they all looked guilty and made vague excuses for being there. Sheila and I left after a few minutes and headed off across country for the lake. 

As we drove, we talked about the problem. Staff loyalties were divided and trouble was a-comin' to be sure and we both knew it. After an hour of talking about possible solutions, we couldn't find one. Firing the bunch would alienate the church because one of them was a member. The staff, meanwhile not realizing what was going on, would find it arbitrary and there were 26 women working there and me the only male. Just so you know, the alpha dog thing doesn't work among groups of humans. When you have 26 female employees, you're just outnumbered and there's nothing you can do about it. 

So we took it to God. I drove and Sheila prayed because I'm better at the one and she's better at the other. In God's work you learn to stick to the talents he's given you.  After we prayed, we drove along quietly for a time. Finally, my wife turned and asked, "You got anything yet?"

I shrugged. " The only thing that comes to my mind is, 'Be still and know that I am God.'"

"That's funny," Sheila answered. "I had that same thought. I prayed all night about that and that's what I kept getting over and over all night long."

"It's going to be tough to do basically nothing," I shook my head.

We drove on along this tiny two-lane backwoods East Texas road for a few more minutes in silence, me thinking, this is one problem that's going to take some action. If I didn't get ahead of this little revolt, the whole thing could come apart. 

Then suddenly my eyes were drawn to a pretty little white country church along the road up ahead. It had one of those message board signs out front and I kept my eyes on it as the words became readable. In big black letters it said, "Be still and know that I am God."

I did a double-take. "Did you see that?" I asked incredulously. Sheila turned and looked hard at me, then quietly nodded.

"I think we've had as clear an answer as we're going to get," she laughed.

You're always a little quiet when God has spoken to you that clearly. We drove on to the lake and had a lovely day with the kids. On the way back, we thanked God for his answer. Monday, we went back to work and did what we should have done, just like any normal day. Our three revolutionaries didn't say much for the next few days until it became obvious that the wrath of Tom was not going to fall upon them.

Sheila and I remained still and let things work out. Within three months, the childcare director was offered a better paying job, the bookkeeper quit without warning and the titular adult director quit suddenly. I gave her two weeks severance pay.  All were replaced with very nice people who helped us a lot. The center lasted another year, but economic factors forced us to close. When we did, we were a happy group who hated to be going our separate ways. I still have friends from our time there.

As it turned out, God solved our problem for us. All we had to do was be still and know who was God and who was not!

 © 2016 by Tom King

When you need one....

God has worked a couple of small miracles for us this past week. They weren't quite what we asked for, but then miracles from God seldom are done the way we would do them. One of these small miracles happened today.

Sheila and I have never owned a dog. We had a sweet little beagle that belonged to my daughter, but we've never owned one ourselves. We're not cat people, so we've owned a half dozen or so one time and another. Go figure!

Madeleine L' Engle wrote that you shouldn't look for a dog. God will send you one when you need it. Sheila and I subscribe to this view. Dogs are a lot of responsibility and we were pretty sure we weren't up to the responsibility.

Apparently, God disagreed. This morning while doing my semi-regular good deed for the elderly woman my wife takes care of, I was minding my own business pressure washing Miz Mary Bob's house. As I turned toward the patio to fetch another length of water hose, I saw a black shape moving through the grass on its belly. As soon as I spotted it, the shape rose up and staggered toward me grinning.

I swear, she grinned at me. It was a skinny, lop-eared, part labrador puppy (I think) with enormous feet and ribs showing through thin fur. She approached me like a long lost friend and threw herself down on her back in front of me and begged to be scratched on her belly.

"Hello," I said. "Where'd you come from."

I couldn't resist and scratched her belly. She jumped up against my legs and put her head in my hands and began licking and nuzzling against me.

"Oh, no, you don't," I thought. "Nice dog," I said giving her a dismissive pat and turning away. As I climbed up the porch I realized she was right at my heels. I sat down in a chair and she came over and laid her head in my lap, looking up at me with these sad brown eyes.

"Sheila, help," I called out.

Sheila was out the door in a couple of seconds expecting to find me bleeding on the porch. She took one look at the dog, opened her mouth and no sound came out.

"I think I'm in trouble, here," I groaned.

"Don't look at me," she said, coming over beside me and stroking the dog's head. "What are you going to name her?"

We have decided that we didn't have any choice in the matter. This little girl needed us and apparently, God had decided we need her. God immediately provide us with enough money to get her basic equipment - we are so broke right now, that we'd never have excepted the responsibility without a clear sign that God knew we'd be able to take care of her.

Besides, she likes to lie beside my chair, sit in my lap and comes when we call her. Our kids don't even do that reliably. I think this dog was meant for us. She followed me around lying in the various flower beds about the place where she could watch me scrubbing down the house. As I was finishing up, I looked over at where she was lying amongst the lantana. She had her head draped across the border of the flower bed, one ear lopped over and grinned stupidly at me with those big watery eyes.

I sniffed in disgust, "You had me at hello!" I told her. She jumped up and loped unsteadily over for another head rub. She is so weak from hunger, her muscles aren't very strong and she's kind of unsteady on her feet. Sheila will fix that though. Fattening up starving creatures is her forte'.

We tried out names all morning. I thought of calling her "Angel" and then "Honey" and then "Babe". Finally I realized I was trying to name her after Sheila.

She suggested flower names and thought Gladiola might be good (we'd call her 'Glad' for short). I thought, "Hmmmm?" and then tried out Gardenia, Rose, Chrysanthemum, Magnolia (Maggie for short) and Indian Paintbrush, but nothing seemed to fit. That made me think of Sheila's old college nickname (Indian Wheezer), then I thought of "Daisy".

It sounded right. I called her that and she responded a little. Probably my imagination, but that sealed it. We spent the rest of the afternoon giving her a flea bath, brushing and treating her for ticks. We fed her a little at a time. She was starved and ate every bit. She was dehydrated too and her body temp seemed high so we gave her water with bits of ice in it which she drank down eagerly.



It's nice to be able to do things for a creature that appreciates your attentions. She didn't much enjoy the bath, but she never snapped at us or growled. I haven't heard her bark once. She spent a good deal of the rest of the day sleeping in Sheila's lap, her belly full and warm. She was very reluctant to go in the house at first, but she's decided our room must be our den and since she's apparently joined our pack, she's taken up residence there. Sheila made her a bed and then got down on the floor to show her how to use it.



She's such a sucker for anything that needs to be fed. She spent the rest of the day worrying about how the dog was breathing, her temperature, her heart rate and whether she had Parvo, heartworms, Rickets or Scurvy. I had to look up on the Internet, whether she should give Daisy an aspirin or not. My oldest son Matt's comment when we introduced him to Daisy this afternoon was, "Well, at least Mom will have someone to obsess over besides me!"

Little Miss, Matt & Nancy's cat hasn't stated her opinion yet. We're delaying formal introductions because she's currently in her psycho cat phase and she hates dogs anyway. I think she'll like Daisy, though.

Mom passed out around ten o'clock tonight, exhausted from worrying over the dog. They're both sleeping soundly as I write this. Daisy has decided on her own sleeping spot and it's not her bed. Sheila may have a rival for her recliner.



Meanwhile, I better log off and go to bed too. Apparently, God wants me to take regular walks.

I'm just sayin'

Tom