Sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest difference…
Restless and anxious, I sit self-absorbed in the waiting room listening for my name to be called to go back for my yearly mammogram. As a breast cancer survivor, I know I am in for a three-hour ordeal. Earlier that morning my 16 year old asked, “Why three hours? Do they squeeze you boob for three hours?” I answer, “Basically!”
It is the single worst day of every year for me for the past nineteen. It always triggers thoughts of that day when the ultrasound tech walked back into the room with tears in her eyes. I remember thinking, “Poor girl, someone must have said something hurtful to her.” Then I realized the tears were for me and because of what she had just discovered. I left the clinic that day being told they were 95% sure I had breast cancer. I was not in that 5% category and spent the next year, at age 39, fighting for my life.
I sit in the outside waiting room passing the time, opening up the “blessing for the day” I have picked up out of the jar as I entered, checking my phone for messages, glancing at Facebook, and posting “19 years…year to year…praying I get one more today. Mammogram Day: all prayers appreciated!” The immediate posts that others are praying for me are a comfort and I reread the “blessing of the day” agreeing in my heart, “God is good!” With each of these activities, I relax a little more.
Then I notice her, the young lady sitting behind the desk. The décor of the room is brown and aqua and her aqua top with the brown sweater tied around her shoulders matches it perfectly. She looked striking enough to be a model in an ad for the clinic. It dawned on me that she might appreciate a compliment so, putting down my book, I walked over and said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you look so beautiful and that you match the office décor perfectly.” I didn’t know how she would respond, but as I finished my sentence, her face brightened, “Thank you. I have been sitting here feeling so bad and thinking that I looked awful. You have just made my day…you have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” she responded. “Well, I just wanted to share that with you,” I said and returned to my chair.
As I sat back down, I noticed she had a huge smile as she continued working at her desk. When she called my name to put my armband on, her whole face beamed and warmed my heart. I realized that the blessing I had given her would be passed on from person to person throughout the day with each armband she put on. Sometimes it’s the little things that make the biggest difference. A compliment paid, a smile of encouragement, a kind work when a hateful one would be expected.
I pray to be more mindful of each opportunity that comes my way. As a child of God my blessings are countless. Each day I encounter people who may not ever know His Peace, but as I wrap my mind around the “peace that passes understanding” I see and feel the urgency to pass it on to others at every opportunity.
The anticipation of my mammogram is almost over. They will call my name soon and I’ll enter that room that will determine how my tomorrows will go. The experiences of this morning are already a blessing and what happens next rests in God’s hands. As these last few minutes have reminded me, He is in control of each and every situation. All will be well and I will have an opportunity to encourage others, hopefully, no matter what the outcome.
Because of that one day nineteen years ago I am thankful for each day, every blessing, and every opportunity. Some of life’s most precious blessings just come from overcoming. I’m holding tight to His hand…got to go, they are calling my name.
Roberta Pledge
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