Throwing My Loop…    

By:  Michael Johnson  

TALKING TO JESUS

     Seems there are an awful lot of people telling us what we need to do about Jesus these days.  As in, “You need to get right with Jesus, son,” or “Here’s what Jesus meant when he said…” And the one I hear the most… “You know what you need to do, Miguel?”  And then they tell me something – according to them - that Jesus wants me to do.  Hmmm.  I do know one thing I need to do.  I need Jesus to help me find one friend that doesn’t tell me what I need to do –‘cause apparently I can’t find that person on my own. 
     I think if Jesus wants me to do something, He will tell me himself.  He has my number.  And I’m not about to tell somebody else what they need to do, ‘cause considering the color of my garment, there’s no way Jesus needs to go through me. Don’t get me wrong.  I admire people who talk to Jesus.  I do it all the time myself.  Like last Thursday.  Boy, was I talking to Him last Thursday…about Sherry.
     My wife, Sharon, is a good human being.  She made her parents proud by always being a good child, and a good student - with a jump shot like some kid from Gonzaga - college cheerleader, and she can work cattle with the best of them.  Sounds a little odd for someone with a PhD from Colorado, and an Associate Vice President at the university, but fact is…she’s just a good and caring person, and I do love her so.
     With all that you can imagine how I felt last Wednesday.  For several days before that day, Sherry had been having deep pains in her chest, back, and arms.  Her doctor had just finished looking at all the heart tests she had been through in the last two days.  He turns to me - looking me right in the running lights – and says, “We fix this in the morning!”  He didn’t say the words, but the look on his face told me what he thought… “This is not good.  We fix this now.”  So, next thing you know it’s early morning and I’m sitting alone in the hospital waiting room.  Sherry’s in the next room – the operating room - asleep, and a kid is looking through a camera inside her heart.  That’s when I saw Jesus coming down the hall…
     “How you doin’?” He asks me.
     Funny, looking back on it, I didn’t make Him any deals, no promises, no bargains.  (Besides, He wouldn’t have fallen for any promises from me.  He’s been knowing me too long.)   So instead, I asked, “You know this doctor?  My goodness, he’s just a kid.  Can’t be more than twenty-five.”
      He thought a minute and said, “Ummm…yes, I know him – and I think he’s more like thirty-three.”
     “Not to be too nosy here, but did he do okay in med school?  I mean did he goof off?  Did he cut any classes that would be important…like stuff about today,” I asked, with my voice shaking.  “You know, while he’s in there with her and all?”
     “No, I don’t ever remember him doing anything like that.  These days, you can’t do that and make it all the way to heart doctor.  No…No, he didn’t do anything like that.  I think he’s a good kid…and I think he’s good at what he does.”
     Made me feel a little better.  Then, Jesus says, “So how are you?  You scared?”
     “Yeeaah, buddy.  I am.”
     “Worried?”
     “Yes, sir.”
     He said, “Well, you know that’s normal.  Anyone would be.”
     “What do you think I should do?” I asked Him.
     “Well,” He said, “I think you should relax and breathe.  You brought some letters from people who have written to you over the years.  Read those and that will help pass the time while we are waiting.  And…” He paused,  “I want you to have faith.”
     “Yes,” I said.  “I’ll have faith, Lord…” Then the doors burst open – and there he was - the kid.  Young Dr. Kildare (really young) in his gown, pulling his hair hat off, pulling his gloves off…
     “Got it!” he said.  “Big artery on the higher part of the heart.  95% blockage.  That’s why she was hurting so bad.  Opened it up – put a stent in there.  Now she’s…”  He stopped, made two fists holding his arms down low, then spread his arms and said, “Now she’s grrrrreat!”  He sounded just like Tony, the Tiger.
     The only thing I could think at that moment was, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…”
I turned to thank Him, to tell Him how glorious this was - to tell Him…but He was gone.  I wanted to fall at His feet and tell Him over and over…but He was gone.
     “That’s okay,” I thought to myself.  “He has so many others to help.”
So I just told Him anyway.  I know He heard me.
     Like I said…I talk to Him all the time. 

                                                                                   --Michael Johnson

 Ed. Note – Dr. Sharon Johnson is home at Johnson Farms recovering nicely from her heart surgery on April 11^th.