“Blessed be the Lord! For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.”
Troy had not felt well for weeks—actually, months. He had this ache or that pain, and we all felt it with him. He is not one to suffer silently, and mercy is not my dominant spiritual gift. God has a sense of humor. The day had been nonstop, and I was taking some personal time to jog three miles in our gated community. Streetlamps lit the way as I traveled in stress-relieving circles praying, rehashing the day in my mind, and just sweating off the tension from the day. I stopped by the house to get a drink of water only to have Troy meet me in the kitchen. “I think I need to go to the hospital.” He groaned. “My side hurts. I think it’s probably my appendix.”
The last time he went to the emergency room for his appendix, the doctor told him it was gas and sent him home with gas medicine. Weenie, I thought. Why does he have to be such a hypochondriac? My husband needed a hug, and I needed a spanking.
After a while I called his cell phone to check on him. “They are admitting me. I’m going to have my appendix removed. Will you come up here?”
Feeling like wife of the year, I loaded the kids in the car and went to spend the next several hours at the hospital while he had his abscessed appendix removed. Well, at least those acute gas pains are gone for good! Hopefully the next time he has a real pain, I will have real mercy.
(Taken from Live, Love, Laugh and Laundry?)