Clear thinking gift from God
There’s a lot to be said for clear thinking. That’s one of the main reasons I decided at an early age to never be under the influence of drugs or alcohol. The way I see it, if I make a fool of myself, I want to be able to take full credit.
Our daughter, Val, is that way, too, which is a good thing because drugs make her really loopy. We found this out the other day when she had gallbladder surgery. The surgery went well, praise the Lord, but the effects of the anesthesia left a lot to be desired.
When she wheeled Val’s litter into her hospital room, the nurse gave my husband, Bob, and me an amused look.
“How is she?” we asked anxiously.
“She’s doing well,” the nurse replied. “And she’s very impressed with all of us.”
Not sure what she meant, we walked over to Val’s bed.
“How are you feeling, honey?” I asked.
“How am I feeling?” she repeated with a look of wonder on her face. “How am I feeling? I feel great! How else could I feel when I’m surrounded by the most attractive doctors and nurses on the planet? It’s like being on a soap opera!”
Please don’t get me wrong. They were a fine-looking group of professionals, but I don’t think there was a team of modeling agency scouts camped out in the cafeteria.
A few minutes later, a male nurse came in to check Val’s vitals.
“Hi,” she said with a beatific smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Steve,” he said. “I’ll be your nurse this evening.”
“Steve, has anyone ever told you you’re handsome enough to be a rock star?”
“They have not,” he replied, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Well, they should have. What kind of music do you like?”
“I guess you could say I have eclectic tastes. I like rock, classical, and I listen to country a lot.”
“Country?” Val asked. “Hey, I’ll sing a country song for you.”
Strumming an imaginary guitar, she started singing in a seriously ‘twangy’ voice, “Oh, Steve, you’re a nurse, but you ought to be a star. … Oh, Steve, you’re so cute I’d like to keep you in a jar. …”
“Val,” I interrupted her, “Let the guy do his job, okay?”
“Sure thing. Who are you?”
“I’m your mother, honey.” I indicated Bob, standing at the bedside next to me. “And this is your father.”
“My Father?” Val asked, smiling at Bob in awe. “Is that You, Lord?”
“No, Val,” he said. “This is Dad.”
“Really?” She looked over at Steve. “Did you hear that? The Lord wants me to call Him ‘Dad.'”
For the next half hour or so, Bob and I tried to explain to Val that the medication she’d had was making her a little confused, and that she’d feel more like herself in the morning.
“Get some sleep, hon,” Bob told her.
“Whatever You command, Lord,” Val said, closing her eyes.
The Bible tells us that God has given us a sound mind and body. Fortunately, the next day Val was well on her way to both.