A Great Physician

Whatever you do, do it from the heart, as something done for the Lord and not for people, (Colossians 3:23).

I am hard pressed to find a better example on earth, during my lifetime, of someone living out this scripture more than my father.

I spent my life watching my father do his work completely from his heart.  He spent the better part of his working years as a small town doctor in Allen, Oklahoma.  We moved there in the 70s; the summer before I started kindergarten.  Mom wanted to be closer to her family and a place she trusted to go to church.  Dad saw a need in this small town that lay in the middle of two cities that each had hospitals.  Those cities were each about 18 miles away in opposite directions.  Allen was surrounded by other small communities, farms, and ranches.  Plenty of hard working people in need of regular doctor’s care.  That’s what my dad wanted to do – care for the people.  He wanted to live with them and know them.  He believed that’s what a good doctor did.  That’s how you take care of someone.  So, he devoted his life to this cause.

In the Beginning

My parents scrounged the money together, and built the Allen Medical Clinic.  It was complete with an x-ray room, surgical room, and a small lab.  There were three patient rooms (including the room dad would do any surgeries in that didn’t require the patient to be unconscious for) as well.  My two older brothers, Johnny & Robin, and my younger sister, Mary, and I were all involved in our dad’s work.  We played whatever roles necessary: janitor, secretary, lab tech, nurses aid, lawn maintenance, etc.  Of course, dad had a full-time staff, but the life of a small town doctor – the way he did it – is not a 9:00 to 5:00 job.  It was 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days of the year.  We were all part of it – mom too.  It was a way of life.  It was our way of life.

Dad saw people whenever and wherever.  Whether they could pay or would pay mattered very little.  If someone was in need, he’d go.  If we happened to be traveling and there had been an automobile accident, he always stopped to see if he could help.  He’s probably gone on a million house calls.  On many occasions, I assisted him when he ran a house call, as did each of us at some point or another.  Everyone in town knew where we lived and our phone number.  People showed up at our door in the middle of the night bleeding on our porch, needing a doctor.  Phone calls at all hours and on weekends were just a normal part of life for us, and my father never complained.

Take the Time

As busy as our lives were, and as much as his services were needed, dad made a special effort to spend time with us.  He loved to disappear with Johnny & Robin and go noodling in the South Canadian River, a short ways from Allen.  While I enjoyed any adventure with him and however many siblings, it was the time alone with dad that was particularly special to me.  We hunted squirrels, fished, stomped around in the woods, piled rocks, and all kinds of things.  It was important to him to spend time with each of us on our own.  Time where we could just enjoy each other’s company, he would teach me about the world around me, and other things.  Like the time we were stomping around on some family land that we loved to frequent.  As we walked through a meadow, I kept noticing this white frothy substance on the prairie grass.  It was located high up on the grass.  I was very curious about this and had it figured to be fox spit.  I couldn’t imagine what other animal about that height that if they were to spit it would land right about there.  Dad was blazing the trail in front of me.  He didn’t seem to be noticing this stuff.  So, I stopped at the next one I saw and said, “Hey, dad.  Look at this.  What is this stuff?  Is it fox spit”?  He turned and looked, then replied, “No that’s from a spittlebug”, and we continued on our journey.  I didn’t inquire further even though I had no idea what a spittlebug was.  Made sense to me…a spittlebug spits.  I was perfectly content.

He sang lullabies and folk songs, and read bedtime stories to us.  We always wanted to hear another Just So Story.  Those were our favorites.  So much so that we all grew up believing that Rudyard Kipling was pretty much a saint, if not Biblically, than literarily anyway.  And the songs, some of which he wrote himself, are like the family jewels.  They have been passed to our children and our children’s children.  I even sing them to whatever baby I’m holding – family or not.  I think all children should hear them.

This very much reminds me of how our Heavenly Father wants to spend time with His children.  He loves to be with them, all of them, but He too dearly cherishes the time He gets to spend with each of us alone, one-on-one.  Time for us to draw nearer to Him.  Time for Him to teach us things.  Time to celebrate our love for one another.

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you, (James 4:8).

I will place my residence among you, and I will not reject you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people, (Leviticus 26:11-12).

Train Up a Child in the Way He Should Go

The lessons of my father are many.

He taught us what love, faith, and loyalty look like.  He and our mother loved each other ridiculously.  I am very blessed to have been raised in a home where the parents love each other so much.  That is very special to me and I thank God for it.

Mom is gone now – has been for many years.  Dad remarried, and he loves his wife and is devoted to her.  On a recent overnight stay at their house, I learned that my step-mother was not able to sleep in bed comfortably due to a recent surgery and was having to sleep on a couch in the living room.  I awoke before anyone else, and was on my way to the kitchen to make coffee when I saw my father sleeping on the adjoining couch beside her.  I stopped to study the scene further, and I realized this was something he had been doing for a while.  Ever the gentle caregiver, his actions didn’t surprise me at all.

A couple of years ago, my sister and I went back to Allen for a school alumni event.  It’s a wonderful thing; the whole town is involved and it goes on all weekend.  The night before, we had countless encounters with people at the street fair who hadn’t seen us in a very long time and they told many stories of how our dad had helped them in a variety of ways.  Most of these stories we already knew because we, of course, had lived that life already.  The next morning we attended a pancake breakfast at the school cafeteria where we heard more of these stories.  As we left the cafeteria, a man was approaching that we recognized.  He recognized us as well and walked toward us.  We stopped and waited for him to reach us when he yelled out to us.  He told us how good it was to see us and how much we’d grown up.  Then he began:

“You know, you’re dad…”

I interrupted him and said, “Yeah, yeah – he saved your life.  We know.  He saved everybody’s life in town”.

My sister and I laughed, and the man joined in.  He added, “Well…he did”.

Back to the Future  Present

My father celebrated his 79th birthday just today (I say today because it’s not midnight yet, so it’s still today).  He still practices medicine three days a week.  Not like he used to.  He can’t keep up with that kind of pace anymore.  He works for someone else now.  The old days are gone where he lived with the people he took care of and knew them all so well.  He misses it, and the town of Allen misses him.

My father would be the first one to tell you that he’s no saint; I’m not trying to paint him as such.  But, my father was able to devote his life to the care of people and has such a passion for it because of the grace of God.  For the thousands of books dad has read, his favorite is the Holy Bible.  He has a powerful relationship with the Lord and loves to talk scriptures.  It is ever of great concern to him that his family all accept Jesus as their personal Savior, as well as the other lost souls he takes care of or works with.  His life is a model for Christians.  He taught us how to “love thy neighbor as thyself,” (Leviticus 19:18).  His gentle, loving, kindness comes from the heart of Jesus.

Sometimes when I call him now, I catch him at work. I’ll say, “Dad…whatcha doing?”  He always says, “Seeing sick folk”.  That’s what he loves to do – minister and care for those in need.  I’m not only the daughter of The Great Physician, but I’m the daughter of a great physician.

God bless you dad & Happy Birthday!

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