Please Don’t Make Me Go

Which pill is it, Morpheus, to not go?

(2-minute read)

After the doctors put a stent in a coronary artery, they prescribed that I be on blood thinners. I began bleeding in multiple places. There were nosebleeds, bleeding from an ear, and another place. My cardiologist reduced the number of blood thinners, and the ear and nose bleeds stopped. That just left the other place.

Lord, please don’t make me go to the proctologist. I’ve never been to one and don’t know exactly what they do or how they do it. All I can think of is there has to be embarrassment and pain, especially embarrassment. My wife says that if I were a woman or knew what women went through, I would consider this nothing. That may be true, but equality is not at the forefront of my current thinking. Lord, would you wave a thought of healing in my direction. I realize that you love me and that begging has no more effect on you than my asking, but . . . please, please don’t make me go to the proctologist. Lord, I know you don’t negotiate, although it seems like you do when you let me go my own way, even when it’s not best for me. But I certainly will negotiate if you’re willing to make an exception. Please don’t make me go to the proctologist.

To borrow an analogy from C S Lewis, Hamlet had no way to have intimate knowledge of Shakespeare. That is unless Shakespeare wrote himself into the play. Similarly, God sent his son Jesus into human life. Seeing him gives us intimate knowledge of God, such as Jesus healed many people because he loved them. He did not heal many others for the same reason; he loved them. I went to the proctologist.

The doctor kept the conversation light by using a bit of humor. He had thought through every moment of that visit in advance to minimize embarrassment. There was no pain, and even the instruments were body temperature. When I left his office that day, the bleeding had stopped. I realized this was what the Lord wanted me to see. Sometimes, people need help, and we want to help them. Fear of embarrassment for what they have done and what they haven’t done keeps them in their own mental prison. Instead of dealing with the problem, they often just busy themselves with religious things that are of no help. Lord, help me be a more effective vessel for your ministry.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

23 responses to “Please Don’t Make Me Go”

  1. Thanks for sharing your “embarrassing” story and a lesson of life for all of us.

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  2. Grant at Tame Your Book! Avatar
    Grant at Tame Your Book!

    Funny story, Don. Just what I needed to read before visiting the doctor this week. I came across an excellent book by Sara Brunsvold: The Extraordinary Deaths of Mrs. Kips. It’s a fictional story that shows giving and receiving help, both early and late in life. Love your stories. Keep ’em coming!

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  3. Don, your authentic vulnerability makes an excellent devotion. All too often we neglect to seek help because we are locked up or paralyzed by fear, embarrassment, or shame when freedom, healing, or release are near.

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  4. Wow!!  A most apt illustration!!!  Thank you!!!

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  5. Don, I’m so glad that the visit is over! Blessings for continued healing are headed your way!

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  6. Thank you for sharing this Don. A good lesson for us all to remember

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  7. I never thought of that issue before: that some people may be embarrassed to come to God, so they avoid the encounter altogether. Perhaps we can work into our conversations with people how gracious he is, that we can come as we are and God welcomes us with open arms! Thank you, Don.

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    1. It happens particularly with people caught up in sins that even the lost find repulsive. They don’t realize that the Lord is their only hope of change.

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  8. Praying for your situation Don. The analogy you used with Shakespeare and Hamlet is a good illustration of God the Father and Son. Blessings to you!

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  9. Lord, thank you for breaking us…so that we see You, as our healer!🫶🏻

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    1. Thank you for reading my blog, Laura.

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  10. Oh, I relate about the blood thinners. And the nosebleeds. Ugh. And having to explain to people, “I promise no one is hitting me,” after they see the mysterious bruises that show up in all kinds of weird places and I have no idea how I got them. But I trust that God is looking over me and let the ER people catch the heart attack before I got too much permanent heart damage!

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    1. I’m glad I’m not alone. Thank you for reading, Debi.

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