My dermatologist is a gem. She is friendly, and not easily spooked, a quality I deeply appreciate.
Once per year I sit in a paper gown, and she knocks, greeting me with: Hi Kristin!
She scrubs up at the tiny sink while her assistant asks perfunctory questions, manicured nails tapping the keyboard at lightning speed.
The doctor: How’s your grandson?
Ah… the magical phrase. I am happy—and surprised—that she remembers CJ, but then again he is the one who misses the mole she removed from a spot above my lip. One year later he still asks where it is.
I love that he has memorized your face, she says, bringing me back to this bright room and paper gown.
Her hands travel my back as she speaks, occasionally using her mini magnifying glass, looking for anything unusual, given my blue eyes and fair complexion, armed with the knowledge of my high school layout sessions, years of roasting in the sun, earning a tan with the help of baby oil.
Back then my brother shook his head as I fanned a long beach towel over the back porch. At high noon, of all things.
Turn me over I am done on this side, he teased.
The doctor and I continue to chat as she moves to my shoulders, then arms. I ask about her family, and she says a European vacation is in the offing.
How exciting! I say, inquiring further about Rome. We discuss their trip.
So, she says after a bit, Any special plans this summer?
I cannot hide my smile. Yes! Two big things. First, our son is returning from South Africa.
We discuss his missionary work, and she is curious, asking careful questions, her interest piqued.
She parts my hair this way and that, searching for anything amiss, before examining both ears. Looks fine. Now tell me the second thing.
Our daughter is getting married!
She claps. How exciting! Do tell.
She moves to stand before me, her eyes bright, diamond sparkling. She is paying attention and seems genuinely interested. I know that given a normal setting, we would be fast friends.
So I tell her bits about my pretty daughter and her love, both young and happy and counting the days. How my pastor-husband will officiate, with our sons as groomsmen, our daughters-in-law as bridesmaids, and our grandson the ring bearer. We will be together (with a bunch of other people) for two whole days.
Who is your wedding planner? she asks and I laugh.
You’re looking at her!
I love it! she laughs. What a time!
I nod. My daughter and I have enjoyed the hours of planning together, little by little, just the two of us.
Wow, I feel your love, she says, stooping to examine my toes, causing me to realize once again how I would never ever wish to practice medicine.
So you two haven’t squabbled while planning this? That is the finest part of all. My mother and I were hissing cats, clawing the entire 6 months of my engagement.
I am sorry, I say.
She sighs, asking me to stand before taking her magnifying instrument to the back of my legs.
You, my dear, are rich. She sighs again, pointing to a picture of her junior high daughter on the corner shelf.
I think of her, and how I want things to be between us when she gets married. But I don’t know. It takes two people to want to get along before they do get along, doesn’t it? A dash of give and take. She shakes her head again.
I nod. This is true. Give and take plus lots of apologies and forgiveness. It isn’t easy, is it?
Her eyes fill and she shakes her head and blinks. I remember saying I do. Wow! The passage of time.
And then:
You are good to go. I will see you in a year unless something pops up. Next visit I expect to hear every single detail about the wedding.
And with a wave and a smile she is gone.
I pull off the paper gown and get dressed, pausing only to look at the family pictures on the corner shelf. The stunning slopes of Aspen, the stretches of Hawaiian sand, the cruise ship extravaganzas.
And I marvel– how could this doctor call me rich?
Yes, she had dutifully examined my head, my arms, and my feet.
But I do believe she had read my heart.
Let all that you do be done in love.
~1 Corinthians 16:14

Excellent and biblically focused as always…….thank you!
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Thank you for reading along!
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Rich in the ways that truly count!!
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🙏🏻
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Always a gift to read your words… thank you.
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Thank you!💛
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I wonder if your dermatologist reads your blog? Glad your son will be able to be in Virginia for the wedding. I can see you are enjoying your grandchild. I enjoy seeing the posts his mother sends. Always enjoyed hearing about your family as they were growing up. Never a dull moment.
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