We left the Cancer Treatment Center after my husband’s treatment today. I left the car running to keep my husband cool while I ran into the oxygen place to see why we were charged $120.00 for a no-charge visit. I was told to take a seat. I did. There was one other person in the waiting room. He proceeded to tell me why he had oxygen. By the time he was waited on and left the store, I knew his whole disease process, his wife’s disease process (she was at home and couldn’t come along–too sick) and how important he was the 38 years he was a teacher at the high school. Even after retirement he substitute-taught because they needed someone in the “hard” sciences like physics, math and chemistry. “Not everyone can teach those subjects, you know, but I choose them. The kids know they are going to have a good class when they see me.” I simply nodded at appropriate times, but I don’t think he noticed the timing.
Ann’s blog today summarized my moments at the oxygen center:
And there’s always someone who makes sure you know how much smarter and wiser, bigger and better, known and greater they are.
There’s always someone who snatches the horn to sing too loud…
This man was hooked to an oxygen machine at 4 liters per minute. Without it he would not be able to make it to his car let alone drive home. He and I were no different–both dependent on the God of the universe for every breath. Yet, the need for stardom was thick in that room. What did Ann say about that?
Stars are always very small…
Kingdom principles are clear: to be greatest in the Kingdom of God, you must be the servant of all. Must remember this