I worry about dumb things

A friend sent me a text. Her friend has cancer. He’s getting treatment. Would I visit? 

I was happy to go see this person in the hospital, despite knowing nothing about his situation. He’s a friend of a friend. What else do I need to know?

At the hospital, I’m given thirty minutes free parking. After that, I have to pay. THAT’s what I’m worried about. I get out of the car thinking “Thirty minutes. Go.”

Negotiating the proper door to go through after hours, no problem. Facing a crowded emergency room, fine. Getting past the embattled nurse. Easy. Security guard? A snap. Up to the proper room. Done.

We had a pleasant exchange, me and the patient/friend. “Our friend sent me. I must obey!” This got a laugh out of him. He explained to his other visitors our connection: homeless-program-pastor-who-stops-off-at-a-bar. “The Sock Guy” he calls me. “I need all the help I can get,” he tells me. So I pray for my sick friend, because doctors can only do so much and the Mystery that lies beneath their good work is precious, and life is a gift from the One who raises the dead.

As I leave, I’m laughing at myself for worrying about paying for the parking. I drive out, the attendant is gone, and the gate is up.