The Unexpected Moment

There are times in the clinic when a patient walks in who was never meant to be there. Perhaps it was a scheduling error, or a wrong referral. I still remember one such moment: a patient came in with back pain, though my clinic was for knee issues.

At first glance, it seemed like a small mistake. But my heart told me otherwise.

My Honest Struggle

Inside, I felt frustrated.

I thought, this wastes my time.

I thought, this wastes their time too.

The irritation revealed something deeper: pride. A pride that assumed my time was too important for such interruptions, that mistakes like these should not happen, and that I ought to be in control.

God’s Gentle Reminder

But God reminded me of something far greater:

“If even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Luke 12:7), then surely He knows my schedule — every patient, every so-called mistake.

That realization reframed everything. This patient was not an error. Their presence was not an accident. God had allowed this encounter, and it was part of His plan.

A Shift in Perspective

If I were truly thinking from the patient’s perspective, I would not feel anger. I would feel compassion. I would recognize their inconvenience and respond with empathy rather than irritation.

This shift does not come naturally to me. It requires Christ. My frustration reveals not just a scheduling error, but my need for a Savior who changes my heart — a Savior who turns interruptions into invitations to love.

How should the Christian think about this?

— ✂️ CUT FOR SUBSTACK ✂️ —

The Deeper Work of the Gospel

When I reflect on these moments, I see how God uses them to expose what is hidden inside me. He peels back the layers of my pride, showing me that I am not as patient, compassionate, or selfless as I would like to think.

And yet, this is grace. For only when my pride is revealed can it be dealt with. Only when I see my need clearly do I cling to Christ more fully.

The gospel frees me from the illusion of control. It reminds me that my worth is not tied to efficiency or a perfectly run clinic, but to Christ who has already accomplished all things on my behalf.

A New Way to See Interruptions

With this in mind, even a wrongly scheduled patient becomes a gift. They are not simply a disruption to my agenda, but a reminder of God’s agenda. An opportunity to practice patience, to extend compassion, and to lean on Christ.

And when my heart resists — as it often still does — that resistance itself drives me back to grace. It reminds me that I cannot muster compassion on my own. I need the One who first had compassion on me.