“May I come in?”

A man with rolled up shirt sleeves, his dark eyes registering weariness, stopped outside our cubical. Still, he wore a bright smile as he waited for a response.

I flicked my gaze toward Bill, my eyes repeating the stranger’s question, and my husband answered with a nod.

“Yes, of course,” I replied.

He stepped inside, and his smile broadened. “I’m the ER chaplain.” He extended his hand toward me, which I shook. Then, turning to Bill, “How are you, sir?”

Bill sort of chuckled. “Well, could be better, but they’re taking good care of me.”

“What’s the trouble, if you don’t mind me asking?” The chaplain’s face held concern.

“Surgery yesterday,” Bill said. “Released today but then…” Bill closed his eyes, stifling a dry cough. I handed him a cherry lozenge. “Started having abdominal swelling and pain and…” Again, a brief pause, and Bill cleared his throat and swallowed. “Cold sweats, possible fever. I called, and they told me to come to the ER.” He smirked. “And, well—here I am.”

The chaplain stepped toward the bed and placed his hand on the metal rail. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir, but I’m glad you’re in good hands.”

Bill nodded. He, too, looked tired.

The chaplain turned to me. “I’m Manu. What’s your name?”

“Maureen.” I paused, pondering my question. I knew the hospital was Seventh Day Adventist, but did that mean all their chaplains were Christian? I was curious, so I asked, “May I ask, are you a Protestant chaplain?”

Manu chuckled. “Yes, yes I am.” He lifted the lanyard hanging from his neck. “Making my rounds. You know, praying with folks.” He let the lanyard fall. Once again, he turned toward the patient. “And you are?”

“Bill.”

“Nice to meet Bill. You, too, Maureen. Do you live locally?”

Bill shook his head. “No. We’re from North Carolina, near Asheville.”

“Oh, North Carolina. My family recently visited…” Manu paused, his gaze turning upward, seemingly in thought. Finally, “Charlotte. Yes. Nice city.” His head bobbed. “Went to the… what was it? Ah, yes—the Billy Graham Library. Amazing place.”

It was my turn to smile. “We’ve been there too. And yes, Charlotte is a beautiful city. It’s about three hours from where we live.”

Maybe Manu was making the connection, perhaps recalling having heard about Asheville, but his brow furrowed. “You were hit badly by the hurricane last year, yes?”

“Yeah, our area was. Not too bad for us personally,” Bill said. “But not far from us, lots of devastation.”

Manu’s head turned side to side. “Ah, I heard about many areas suffering much damage. So sad.” He clucked sympathetically, before, “My family had not been here long when Helene happened.”

“Where are you and your family from?” I smiled at the man who, with each passing moment, seemed less like a stranger.

“India. Took us more than seventeen years to get here but…” He winked. “Here we are.”

“Seventeen years?” My eyes widened. “Wow! That long?”

“Yes. Might have been less, but when COVID hit, things… well, they kind of stalled for us.” He turned his head side to side. “But we trusted—all in God’s good timing.”

Again, “Wow!” and I turned my attention to Bill. “Can you imagine?”

Bill, too, shook his head. “That’s a powerful testimony of patience and determination.”

Manu nodded his agreement. “My wife, she’s adjusting well, and so is our daughter. She’s in university. But our son? Well, he’s struggling a bit. You know, making friends and such.”

I wondered how old he was. “Is he in high school?”

“Middle school. An adolescent.”

“Ah, that’s a tough age for any boy, let alone one starting over in a new country.”

“True. It does take time. I keep telling him, ‘You’ll make friends here too,’ but it’s hard for him. He left much of what he loved behind.”

“We will pray for him.” My words weren’t more than a whisper, my eyes pooling. “We’ll pray for all of you.”

Manu’s countenance spoke his gratitude.

There was a beat of silence. Finally, “May I pray with you?” Manu stepped once more toward the hospital bed.

This time, without hesitation, Bill answered. “Yes. Please do.”

I placed my hand on Bill’s stomach, while Manu took my husband’s in his own. His prayer was beautiful—earnest and compassionate, filled with references from God’s Word, reminders of the Great Physician’s promises.

The chaplain concluded, “In the power of the Holy Spirit and in Jesus’s precious name, amen.”

Amen.

“So be it.” That’s what amen means. So be it—

• In sickness.
• In inconvenience.
• In waiting.
• In wondering.
• In unfamiliar places.
• In undesirable seasons.

Amen.

After Manu left, his powerful prayer lingering like a sweet fragrance in that ER cubicle, we knew. Our unexpected trip to Advent Health’s emergency room was no mistake.

It was no surprise to God.

And maybe, just maybe, our being there was as much for Manu and his family’s journey, in a yet unfamiliar place, as it was for Bill’s health journey, with all the remaining unknowns.

As my husband professed with a sheepish, weary grin, “Well, that made the frustration of being back here well-worth it.”

After all, that’s the Body of Christ at work—encouraging one another through life’s joys and trials because…

“He always comes alongside us to comfort us in every suffering so that we can come alongside those who are in any painful trial. We can bring them this same comfort that God has poured out upon us” (II Corinthians 1:4 — The Passion Translation).

Kind Father, help us always live with eyes and ears open that we might see and hear opportunities to encourage fellow travelers—in all circumstances, in every season…

Yes, Amen.

My dear friend and encourager-extraordinaire, Julie lavender, just released Children’s Advent Stories for Bedtime, coauthored by her husband David Lavender.

I would love to give away a copy of this beautiful book, and just in time for the Advent season.

Leave a comment for a chance to win.

I’ll draw a name from those who participate next Wednesday, November 5th—shipping right to your door (U.S. only please).

Oh, and here’s the Amazon LINK, in case you want to order more copies, as it makes a great gift, and—yes!—Christmas IS right around the corner!