Megan fidgeted in the uncomfortable examination table, her palms clammy against the leather surface. The sterile, white walls of Midland’s MyMichigan clinic seemed to close in on her as she waited anxiously for the doctor to enter and tell her the results of her blood test. The smell of disinfectant lingered in the air, making her nose twitch and her skin crawl. Outside the door, she could hear the muffled sounds of hushed conversations and clattering equipment. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves, but the anticipation was almost suffocating.
She clasped her hands together, her knuckles white, and whispered a prayer. “Lord, please let everything be all right,” she murmured, her eyes closed. Megan had always been a woman of faith, but in moments like these, her faith was both a source of strength and a test.
A month earlier, she had started feeling unusually fatigued. Simple tasks left her exhausted, and the vibrancy she once carried had dimmed. Her husband, Dave, had been the one to insist she see a doctor.
“We’re in this together,” he had said, holding her close. “Whatever it is, God is with us.”
Now, as Megan waited for the results, those words echoed in her mind. She drew a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. She looked around the room, her eyes landing on a small, framed painting of a shepherd leading his sheep.
The painting is a serene landscape, with rolling green hills dotted with trees and a bright blue sky. In the foreground, a shepherd stands tall, his staff held firmly in one hand while the other rests gently on the back of a white sheep. The colors are rich and vibrant, drawing the eye to the simple yet powerful scene. It reminded her of Psalm 23, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
She felt a bit of peace settle over her as she recited the rest of the psalm to herself, especially the words, “He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul…” Megan believed that no matter what happened, Jesus was with her, guiding her through this valley—even the valley of the shadow of death, should her and Dave’s worst fears come to fruition.
The door creaked open, and Dr. Andrews stepped in, his face kind but serious. He took a seat across from her and opened a folder.
“Megan,” he began gently, “we’ve found something in your blood tests that we need to look into further. There are some abnormalities we can’t ignore.”
Megan felt a lump in her throat and swallowed. “What kind of abnormalities?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“We’re not sure yet,” he replied. “We need to conduct more tests to determine exactly what’s going on. But I want you to know we’re going to do everything we can to figure this out.”
Megan nodded, trying to hold back anxious tears. “Thank you, Dr. Andrews.”
As she left the clinic, Dave was waiting for her outside. One look at her face, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. His embrace was a cocoon of warmth and safety—a fortress of love and protection. It held her close like a treasure that needed to be guarded and cherished.
“What did they find?” he asked.
“Dr. Andrews was rather vague about some abnormalities,” she said as he held her. “They need to run more tests.”
“Whatever it is, God is with us.”
The next few weeks were a blur of hospital visits, tests, and waiting. Megan and Dave prayed together every night, their faith unwavering despite the uncertainty. Megan’s name was on their church’s prayer list, her name was read in the Prayers of the Church during the Divine Service, and other church members offered them prayers, meals, and support.
One evening, after a particularly exhausting day, Megan received a call from Dr. Andrews.
“Megan, we have some news,” he said, his tone lighter than it had been in weeks. “The latest tests have come back, and it turns out the abnormalities we saw were caused by a rare but treatable condition. With the right medication and some lifestyle changes, you’re going to be just fine.”
Megan’s heart raced as she waited for Dr. Andrews to continue speaking, her eyes filling with hopeful tears. She could feel the weight of fear and anxiety lifting off her shoulders as he explained the diagnosis and detailed treatment plan. The room suddenly felt brighter and warmer, as if a dark cloud had been lifted and replaced with sunshine.
“Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much.”
After ending the call, she turned to Dave, who had been nervously observing her. “It’s treatable,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. “I’m going to be okay.”
Dave’s strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as tears of pure joy and overwhelming gratitude spilled from both their eyes. The weight of their emotions was almost palpable, filling the air with an electric charge. They held each other tightly, cherishing the moment and all it represented.
“Thanks be to God,” Dave whispered.
Their journey wasn’t over, but the path ahead was now clear and hopeful. Megan started her treatment, and slowly but surely, her strength and vitality began to return. Each step of her recovery was met with prayers of thanks and praise.
One sunny Sunday morning, Megan had asked Pastor Carlos if they could thank the congregation at the end of the service during the announcements. He gladly obliged.
After the Benediction and the usual announcements, Pastor Carlos invited Megan and Dave forward to the baptismal font where he was standing. It was a large marble basin. The sunlight beamed through the church windows, casting a warm glow over the smooth, white surface of the font.
“I want to thank all of you for your prayers and support,” she began, her voice strong and filled with emotion. “This experience has tested my faith, but it has also strengthened it. I’ve seen God’s hand in every step of this journey, even during the agonizing uncertainty, and I am grateful for His love and grace.”
The congregation erupted in applause, and Pastor Carlos invited the congregation to stand and sing the Common Doxology before the closing hymn:
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heav’nly host:
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.
Megan was filled with warmth as they sang. She knew that whatever the future held, she would face it with faith, love, and the unwavering certainty that Jesus is her Shepherd, knowing His goodness and mercy shall follow her all the days of her life.
The Lutheran Column 