making a hair appointment, pastors and doctors

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.

 

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