While living in Japan, I began having a lot of trouble with my right hip—I could hardly stand for any length of time. A friend from another mission asked me, “What are you going to do about the problem you’re having with your hip?”
“If we were in the States, I’d go to a chiropractor,” I answered, “but I don’t know any chiropractors here.”
“Well, I do,” my friend said. “He’s a Christian, speaks English and has a special rate for missionaries because National Insurance doesn’t cover chiropractors.”
I was delighted to discover that the chiropractor’s office was an easily-navigated train ride, so I could go alone and didn’t have the expense of two train tickets. The doctor had trained in the U.S. and used a combination of adjusting and muscle work which was so effective that I decided when we went back to the U.S., I’d look for someone who used that method.
Later, I discovered our son had already found a chiropractor who used that method when he got hurt at work. Eventually I started going to him also. I knew Dr. D was Catholic, but for some reason we never talked about spiritual things—I don’t know why.
Several years ago, Dr. D’s male receptionist, who is a Christian, told me that Dr. D and his family had started going to the receptionist’s church where his bookkeeper also attended. She is also a Christian. After Dr. D had been attending there for some time, he told me, “I always believed but I never understood.”
Today was another one of those days that a physical problem took me to Dr. D’s office, but God definitely had deeper things in mind. I was telling Dr. D about our vacation and about the elderly African American woman (probably homeless) who was marching around between our building and the beach one day screaming, apparently at us and anyone else who came near, “You’re going to burn in hell!”
I responded, “No, I’m not! Jesus is my Savior!”
Soon our conversation moved on, and a little later, I told Dr. D about missionary friends of ours who were trying to decide where they would live when their mission work was finished. The husband, Dave, told us that he realized wherever his wife, Ann, lived was home.
“That’s how I feel about Donn,” I said. “Home is wherever he is. He’s so very good to me.”
Then I added, “I always said if you have a bad marriage, it’s easier when your spouse dies, but if you have a good marriage, it’s hard knowing that someday one of you will pass away. That won’t be easy.”
Dr. D said lovingly, “But like you said, you have a Savior, and you know He’ll be with you. We know that we all have to go sometime, but we don’t have to be afraid. I don’t think you’ll have to wonder where Donn is if he dies.”
I was so thrilled that this man who is like a son to me absolutely understands what it means to have a Savior! Then he went on to tell me, “That’s what got me out of the Catholic church. The priest was so terrified during Covid that I finally told my family, “I don’t need a “woke” priest, and if he’s that afraid to die, where is his faith?”
This was the first time Dr. D had expressed why he’d left the Catholic Church. I told him then about the difference it had made when I’d made up my mind that I was not going to be ruled by fear at my most recent cancer scare—this time I was going to trust God—and the amazing difference it had made. I said I’d bought a little piece of wood at Cracker Barrel’s General Store that said Trust and put it on my vanity to remind me that I was going to trust God.
“So during my year of treatment, God had me there around people who needed to know what a difference trust in God could make at a time like this.”
Dr. D. smiled and said, “So you went around and gave out little pieces of wood that said Trust on them, saying ‘Here’s one for you and one for you and one for you!’”
Once again I was in awe of what God was doing in Dr. D’s heart. I hugged him as I left and said, “I couldn’t have been happier about the things you said today. You’re just like one of my kids.”
He grinned and said, “I’m the right age for it.”
We had talked about this before, and I’d learned that he’s just a few years younger than our children. What a blessing to not only hear words from his lips that assured me that he knows what it means to have a Savior, but to have him remind me that I have a Savior, come what may.
What about you? Do you know that Jesus is your Savior? Do you know that He will be with you come what may? If not, you can have that assurance if you will call on Him to forgive your sins and be the Savior of your soul. “Hallelujah, What a Savior!”
Father, truly you are an amazing God. Thank you for sending Jesus to be our Savior, the One who will always be with us in death or in life, the One in whom we can always place our trust. Amen.