Tale of two waiting rooms

Yesterday was the mammogram appointment. I forgot to bring my script and any I.D. so I was detained in the waiting room while phone calls were made. That's when I had my first encounter-with a white male, about age 35, who was waiting for his wife. He was a seminarian and we chatted about his dissertation and about a few theology books. That was pleasant enough. Then I was sent to disrobe and to sit in another waiting room.

That's when I had my second encounter-with a black female, age 52, who was waiting for a verdict. In one minute flat I learned she was a Christian. She told me there was a lot going on in her life but she was trusting "the Most High, who loved the most low." I told her that I was doing the same, but that sometimes my faith was weak. That little bit of honesty jimmied open confessions of her own weakness: "Sometimes I talk about it too much," she said. She was feeling bad that one minute she'd be telling Jesus she trusts him, and the next minute, when people ask about her health, she'd be spewing worry and fear and complaint-betraying Him.

Then we both decided it was a good time to pray. So we bowed and prayed for each other's health and each other's faith. And I marveled at the perfect timing of God, that He should have allowed me to forget my script and I.D., so as to delay my getting to the waiting room, to see to it that two women would be "mutually encouraged by each other's faith" (Romans 1:12).