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Urgent Care

By Wendy Gustafson

When I was a girl growing up, if you needed a doctor, you went to his office and waited. Sometimes, in those days, the doctor would come to you, making the old-timey, now extinct “house call.” Either way added the discomfort of time ticking by to the discomfort of what brought you there in the first place.

As a young mother, in charge of everybody’s everything, I was glad to see my first ever Urgent Care open up in Milford. Imagine! You can walk right in with whatever problem you have and be cared for by a bona fide, real-life doctor, just like that!

At the time, I was raising three active kids who were bent on discovering what made the world work—personally, creatively, actively, fearlessly. Theirs was a never-ending examination of earthly facts and forces which sometimes resulted in the need for urgent professional care.

One day I discovered them heating a baseball in a covered pan on the stove. They were interested in seeing if the ball would go faster and farther if it was hot when it was hit. I interrupted this experiment before any real test could be made of this thesis. As we say where I come from, “We like-to never got the smell of roasted baseball out of the house.”  

All this exploration led to learning, sometimes the hard way. Bumps and bruises, bad colds, broken arms, assorted stitches, and interesting rashes, all had their turn. I was glad for the Urgent Care the night Mike stuffed a green pea up his nose to see if it would fit. Urgently ready for anything, they even had a cool machine for removing green peas. Our local Urgent Care kept the Gustafson paperwork on top of the file cabinet. It saved time.

We all need care, sometimes general, sometimes specific. Sometimes a listening friend is just right. Sometimes we need a trained pro. Sometimes what’s ailing us won’t wait. We need urgent care.

I need urgent care from God all the time. Whatever is bugging me, whatever is ruining my peace just won’t wait. I want, I need, His attention right now! I call, I plead, I insist, I bargain. I call on God’s Urgent Care.

Sometimes it is a tangled wad of wrong that needs righting. Sometimes it is an urgent need that needs meeting. Sometimes it is a fight, a showdown, right here, right now—me facing a force of darkness, not alone, but befriended.

Urgent prayer brings urgent care.

I’m an old Christian, and I’m still in wonder when that urgent care comes in just the right measure at just the right time. I pray, “I need help. Right Now!” and then I add, “Thank You.” The next step is my hardest. It is to arise and do the next thing, confident that God has heard me, or acting like I am.

When I’ve done this, Bam! There is the help! Exactly what is needed, no more, no less.  And I, the Big Believer, am filled with wonder and awe at being heard and helped by a Big God, who surely has more important things to do than save me from my own mistakes and circumstances.

But it turns out that God has nothing else to do but save me from whatever is amiss. Nothing is more important to him than to save me for Himself.

We need to have faith that God is Who He says He is. And that He loves us as much as He says He does. We need to trust Him with our urgent care. And when the Yes comes, it will feel like a mini miracle.

Watch for evidence in your own life that God is near—as near as a heartbeat, as near as a breath, as near as a thought. He is there, wanting to supply your real need, His own perfect Love. This is God’s Urgent Care.

Stop in. The clinic is always open. 

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