Josh checked his watch. As always, his day had flown by. He murmured a quick thanks to God under his breath that he’d been led to spend his days doing work that he enjoyed so much that he didn’t count the minutes till quitting time. Not that there was a quitting time in his line of work.
He pulled a note-sized pad out of his coat pocket and took a quick glance at the short list written there. He’d visited Marsha, who’d just delivered her and Steve’s third child this morning. Mother and new baby daughter were both fine, although Dad was a little nerve-wracked at the reality of his wife having to endure a cesarean section—her first, and not a planned one, either. The little girl had been in the wrong position to deliver naturally, and after thirteen hours of labor, the doctor had made the call. Josh hadn’t heard about the dilemma, or he would’ve dropped whatever he was doing to race to the hospital and pray with the couple. But fortunately, the surgery went fine, and now the family had a new member—its first girl. That little baby was going to be treated like a princess. Although, knowing her two big brothers, she’d be wise to work on her left hook.
And he’d visited Mrs. Peterson. It had been a close call for his dear friend, but thank the Lord, she was going to be fine. She’d stumbled over the area rug in her bathroom, fell and knocked her head against the vanity on the way down. She’d evidently lain there, gathering her strength and her nerve for almost an hour before she had enough energy to crawl down the hallway and to the phone. With the presence of mind that didn’t always accompany an elderly person after a trauma, she called 9-1-1 first. After an ambulance had been dispatched, her next call was to him. The whole way over to the hospital, he’d prayed for her recovery, well-being and relief from pain. The first glimpse of her made him cringe—the blow to the face had resulted in an angry black eye, the bruise trailing down her nose and cheek—but her physical exam confirmed that nothing was broken or permanently damaged. God had watched out for her, and after a few days of rest, she would go home with no lasting health problems.
He’d spent an hour at her bedside, trying to convince her to rethink her living arrangements. He didn’t like her living alone. What if the accident had been more severe? What if she hadn’t been able to call for help? Her response, “We all have a time to go, Pastor. If it’s mine, it’s mine, and there’s not a thing you or I can do about it” didn’t quite relieve his uneasiness.
His hospital visits done, Josh headed toward the Emergency Room exit, stretching the kinks out of his muscles. He’d have to book to make it to the Youth Rally in time for early setup. It would be a big night for lots of teenagers, and he wanted it to go well. Not to mention the added incentive of Mr. Seymour’s will depending on it.
At this point, early evening traffic would make it a challenge to get to the church by six, but as long as Luke, Brad and Jessica were there, they could get started without him, and he’d get there just as soon as he could.
He headed down the last hallway of the ER before leaving the hospital, and was walking briskly, with purpose. Just as he was passing one of the double doors that led to the labyrinth of curtained off ER cubicles, a man with a cell phone in his hand and a single-minded goal on his brain, came striding out, and plowed directly into Josh. The man dropped his cell and the collision pushed Josh back a few steps.
It was one of those moments that Josh thought back on later, and knew, without a smidgen of doubt, that God was at work in his life.
“Sorry, man,” the guy said. And made Josh pause. The guy had already looked just the slightest bit familiar. “I guess we’d both better watch where we’re going, or we’ll end up in one of these beds, heh?”
But the voice clinched it for him. Josh stepped back to the man and held his hand out. “Rick, isn’t it?”
Rick did a double-take and stared, not quite so quick on the uptake as Josh was. “Yeah it is, but how…?”
“I’m Josh Gregory—Regan’s friend? Luke’s pastor?” Fortunately, those clues were sufficient to fill Rick in, ending Josh’s struggle with describing exactly who he was, in relation to this man’s ex-wife and son.
“Oh yeah, the preacher man. How ya doin’, Father?” Rick pumped his hand heartily.
Josh swiped a smile off his face. “Actually, just Josh is fine, thanks.”
Just as Josh was about to wrap up the impromptu meeting and head out the door, Rick said, “Father, could you go in there and pray with Luke? You never know, it can’t hurt, heh?”
“Luke?”
“Yeah, the strangest thing. He ran right in front of a car and got hit. Nothing big, a concussion and some scrapes. I’ve had a direct line to the Big Guy myself, thanking Him that there wasn’t any worse damage.”
Josh froze and blinked twice at the man. Then, the words began to sink in, and he said, “Where?”
Rick pointed and Josh wasted no time dashing through the door, leaving Rick behind in the hallway. Running past several empty Emergency Room cots, he headed for a cubicle surrounded by a curtain. He pulled the thin cloth back and instead of seeing the blond teenager he was expecting, he’d accidentally chosen the cot of an elderly woman. At his intrusion, she pulled the sheet up to her chin and screamed.
“Sorry!” Josh called, but ran back into the hallway, not about to stop his search until he found the boy he was looking for. Lord, help Luke. Don’t make Regan deal with this.
Fortunately, the very next curtain he yanked, he was successful.
“Josh!” Luke’s eyes widened and a huge grin spread over his face.
“Are you okay?”
Luke patted the ice pack connected to his head, and nodded. “Yeah. Just a concussion. I’ll be fine.”
Josh exhaled a mega-breath and strode to the chair, his relief weakening him. He sank down on the metal frame. “What happened to you?”
Luke shook his head. “You’re not going to believe this one.” He paused, and then an odd lopsided grin formed. “Actually, it all kind of started with you.”
“Me? I gotta hear this one.”