A dreaded callI was at a lunch meeting when he called. I didn’t recognize the number and unless there is an emergency I let the calls go to voicemail. When I retrieved my voicemails out in the parking lot after lunch I was startled. “What’s he doing calling me?” I thought to myself.

I missed the number he left that was different than the one he called from so I had to go back through my voice mailbox that was, “Almost full!” her annoying voice reminded me. I must have erased over twenty messages trying to get to the unexpected new one – no exaggeration.

The sense of urgency was beginning to overcome me as I raced through the old messages, deleting more than I really wanted to trying to get to that number. I finally pushed my way through the forest of technology and back to his message. I listened to him again. My stomach sank again.

He’d never called me before. I’ve known him on a professional level for around ten years and had received many calls from his office, but never from him… He has almost as many people working for him as he does in his lobby when it’s full of people, and he was calling me personally? I mumbled with dread, “This isn’t good…”

I returned the dreaded call and went through the technological maze of prompts to eventually get to a real person, “How can I help you?” the professional but impatient voice asked. I told her my name and that I was returning a call. “Did the nurse or the doctor call you?” she asked, clearly confused. “The doctor,” I said.

She put me on hold for a few minutes before she transferred me. The nurses station also put me in technological limbo while they tried to reach the doctor, “He stepped out, I’ll have him call you as soon as he gets back,” she said kindly. “Okay, thanks,” I said without trying to hide my disappointment.

The bumps I’ve had on my neck for over a year I couldn’t seem to shake. I’d tried all things natural before I went to my regular doctor who prescribed antibiotics that had about the same effect as all the other remedies I’d tried. I sought the specialist, the same guy who has cut lots of curious, dangerous, and cancerous things off my over-exposed-Arizona-fair-skinned-body over the years, but not once had he ever called me personally… I was nervous.

There are days and circumstances that make a person think. “It could definitely be bad news,” I thought… then, “What will I do if it is? Will I live with a definite limited number of days any differently?” I began to ask myself all kinds of questions. Some regret crept in… my wife has wanted to do some things that I’ve put off due to business and a busy life… I knew if it was bad news, she’d be mad before sad…

Then I prayed… I had more peace than I thought I could. I was hoping for more time, but if we don’t get what we assume we’ll get or think we deserve, will we think it unfair? What if it benefits others, like the person I just had lunch with and who I shared my faith in God with?

Tomorrow isn’t promised to any of us and while I’d miss my family and you, I’d be at peace…

The doctor never told me when he finally did call why he was calling personally, “It’s not bad news,” he said… I’m thinking the only truly bad news would be for those who don’t know the Truth and our Savior… If you got the call today, how would you feel? Would you be mad, sad, glad,? Or all of the Above…