It’s been a quiet week at Shady Acres, my home farm.  So far.

Yesterday I betook meself to the doctor — (Not my family doctor ) —  for the first yearly checkup that I have had for probably about ten years.  I can’t find my records — Dr. Han disappeared and all my records went into oblivion.  Of course it didn’t help that I waited so long to try to find them.  And put off going because it has been so long. 

Guess what!  I remember with great clarity a few other reasons why I put it off.  I know that at my age, I cannot afford to ignore — well — anything, I guess.  At least judging from all the papers and tests I have been ordered to get.  Everything seems to be fine, but I guess they want to make sure.  When an old friend died of ovarian cancer just before Thanksgiving, it caused me to ponder my negligence.

When trying to reconstruct my medical history, I had great reason to review God’s incredible goodness to our family.  I was especially reminded of how things could have been so different with the birth of Eldest Son.  Of course, this kind of doctor is always interested in birth stories — and to have a 9 lb. 12 oz baby  ten minutes after rupturing membranes in a labor bed with a labor that had been going nowhere is a bit unusual.  But the blessing of that was that he came so fast — because when he was held up, there was a triple cord wind around my fat blue baby.  Twice around his neck, then going around his torso under his arms.  He still spent three days in the ICU nursery, but he really was fine.  But if he hadn’t come so fast . . . Well, I am just so thankful he did.

I often look at my tall (6’6″) son, and think of how things could have been so different, except for the grace of God.   He wasn’t named “Raphael” (The LORD has Healed) on a whim.  There is no name that would have been more appropriate.