A Recent Hospital Experience:
Most people who end up in the emergency room of a hospital experience a long wait. They feel a need for immediate attention. When they look around at their fellow sufferers, however, they learn that their ailments are not so severe. Some sit with ice bags placed on their head while others groan softly holding a mangled arm. A lengthy wait seems a reasonable expectation.
When my husband enters the ER, no such torturous process awaits him. He casually comments that he thinks he may be having a heart attack. The attendant with a cynical air then asks him, “What makes you think that?”
He smiles at her and comments, “My name is James R. Brumfield. Just take a look at my record, and you’ll know I’m serious.”
His reply changes everything. Her eyes widen as she follows his advice.
“Yes Sir,” she says. “We’ll get you into a room right away. “Here’s a wheel chair for you. Do you need some oxygen?”
We are whisked away to a room before we can even take a seat to wait. Our arrival is followed by an onrush of various nurses, doctors, and technicians taking vitals, hooking up IV’s and caring for my husband’s needs. He receives royal treatment!
This V.I.P. treatment reminds me of how I picture my mates’ entrance into Heaven. He’ll come up to the pearly gates one day when his time down here is done. All sorts of folks stand in line before him. St. Peter asks each one why they should be allowed to come in.
My hubby, never known to be shy, shouts out, “I know the answer; pick me!”
“Let that man come to the front of the line,” Peter replies. The others folks sneer as he makes his way past them and grumble among themselves about this newcomer.
Bending down, St. Pete instructs, “Whisper the answer in my ear.”
A wide smile wreaths the Saint’s face as he hears the correct pass words: “Jesus saved me.” Peter also finds his name listed when he looks in his book.
Pete throws a white robe over my husband’s shoulders and welcomes him into the gates. The others wonder what this guy did to deserve such royal treatment.
The right words are all it takes in both these life-saving situations to receive the treatment desired. Our records include the vital information regarding our eligibility for entry. But in either case, we need the proper pass codes to make sure we’re okay to come in. Royal treatment is reserved for a child of the King.
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
