Yes, this post has a point. I promise. I have always hated making phone calls. Talking? I love to talk:) But trying to figure out how to start the conversation, how to word it so I
don’t sound like an idiot sound like I know what I’m talking about, that’s another thing. I remember asking my younger sister to call and make a hair appointment for me when I was in college. Yes, it was that bad.
And then there was my “list of wishes for the man I want to marry”. Two of those requested criterion were NOT to marry a pastor or a doctor. I couldn’t stand to think about being put in the fish tank of being a pastor’s wife, or being accused of being a stuck up doctor’s wife.
So fast forward to today. My job. Office manager for a office of healthcare. Answering calls from patients and insurance companies. CALLING patients and insurance companies, not always for happy joyful occasions.
Fast forward to my husband of 17 years. A chiropractor and a licensed minister.
I frequently say of my life, “My life is proof that God has a sense of humor:)” The irony is not lost on me. The things I thought would be my downfall and impossible to endure are a full part of my life. I’ve finally figured out that the person on the other side of the phone is not critiquing my phone call “script” as I am, and probably doesn’t think about it after I hang up. As long as I don’t play the part of the snooty doctor’s wife, I won’t be treated like one (most of the time). I know it’s a good thing we do not see our life before we walk the path. I sure wouldn’t want to do it over, it was difficult enough the first time. But for every hard thing, there has been grace, maturity (I hope) and a knowing I didn’t have before. I don’t regret the journey, I can see bits of the purpose behind it.