What My Sinus Doctor Taught Me About God

Breathing has become increasingly more difficult for me over the past year. My nasal passages have slowly been swelling shut, and it finally drove me to see a doctor last week.

I was fully prepared and expecting to leave my appointment scheduled for surgery to clear out my nose. I had this surgery once already, several years ago, and it was quite a success. I arrived at my appointment all geared up for the doc with my previous medical records in hand. This way he could see what treatments I’d had in the past and understand my history a little better.

My appointment was nothing what I expected.

As I was waiting for him, the nurse asked me what I was seeing him for. I told her I was there for my sinuses. We went through the standard pre-appointment questions, and I also explained to her that I had my old records for him.

Finally he arrived. Late, because he had been in surgery. Now, I had been warned ahead of time that this doc is good at his job, but has a poor bedside manner. He seemed pleasant enough at first, but then things got rolling.

First question: “What are your symptoms when you have a sinus infection?”

Who said anything about a sinus infection? But I answered him.

“What are you allergic to?”

“Everything.”

Then he proceeded to tell me the prime allergy seasons for all outdoor vegetation. And that it’s worst during harvest, and when ragweed comes out.

I know these things. I grew up on a farm. In Kansas. That’s why I was shipped off to Grandma’s every harvest. Because I couldn’t breathe if I stayed home.

“What do you do for your allergies?”

“I take Zyrtec. And I do a nasal rinse every night…”

“Those are bad…(blah blah blah and off he went)…”

Then he looked in my nose. “Wow, you’re blocked big time.”

Thanks. I know. Thought now might be a good time to mention my surgery. “I had surgery about six years ago…”

“Some doctors like to do those surgeries, but the symptoms are usually manageable without…(more blah blah blah)… Have you ever read any articles on your condition?”

“No.”

“You should. Go home and do some reading. You’re a medical professional. You should know to do these things.”

“Ok.”

“Did you say you had surgery?”

“Yes.” Didn’t I just try to tell you this?

“When?”

“2003.”

“Oh, you were pretty young. You have to stay on top of things to keep stuff from returning. I enjoy doing the surgery, but won’t unless it’s absolutely necessary. You really have to stay on top of it. So here’s what I want you to do...” He proceeded to write a couple prescriptions for Prednisone and a nasal spray and explained how to take them. “Take the Prednisone for a week, then start the spray, then I want to see you in about a month. Any questions?”

“Well, I also have Afrin that I…”

“That stuff is terrible! You should never take it! It’s addictive and after two or three days it does no good. You shouldn’t even be taking it!”

Well ok then.

“It was nice meeting you. If you run into me at the hospital, let me know how you’re doing. If it’s not working, then we’ll try something else.”

And that was the end of that.

I left with my head spinning just a little. More than anything else, I felt like the doctor hadn’t bothered trying to get a comprehensive picture of who I am. He didn’t look at my chart at all before seeing me, and somehow must have thought I was there for a sinus infection. Never asked me why I was there, what symptoms I was actually having, or what I had done about it in the past. He jumped right in, told me what he wanted to say, heard me say what he wanted to hear, and then gave me medicine (that I’ve been on many times in the past) and shooed me out. Now he could move on to the next thing in his day.

A few days later, after my head stopped spinning, I started to recognize spiritual similarities in all this. Except this time, I am the doctor, and God is the patient.

God is waiting for me to come see Him. He waits patiently, sometimes for hours or even days. Finally, I show up. Late, of course, because I was occupied with other things. I breeze in like I own the place and start firing questions at God. But I never wait for an answer, even though He would if I’d let Him get a word in edgewise. Sometimes He does tell me things, but I only hear what I want to. Most of it flies right by me without notice. In the meantime, I’m busy firing information in His face – about my day, what I want from Him, what I think about this or that, and anything else in between. Once I’ve said what I wanted to say, I’m out the door and on my way to the next thing without a second thought.

And how does God feel about this? He doesn’t just schedule an appointment once a year to see me. He’s waiting faithfully and patiently every day for me to show. And more days than not, I stand Him up. If I come at all, I’m only present in body, not mind or spirit. I talk about the things I want to talk about, read off my wish list, and call it good. He wants me to listen to Him, but I don’t pause long enough to hear His voice. He yearns for me to enjoy His presence, but I’m too busy thinking of the other things I need to get done.

Check out this video. I think it better explains what I'm trying to say.