May 16 - John Lundberg

My father, Matthew, was a beautiful and loving father, as was my mother, Alberta. My mother passed away before I was a believer. But my father passed away 20 years after I became a believer. But during these years I continued to read and learn but was reluctant to share my faith. I was not regularly attending church, and though I shared, I was hesitant to offend others for many reasons.

My father passed away suddenly a little over ten years ago at the age of 93 and to the best of my knowledge I don't believe he ever really accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior. This truth bothers me for I had many opportunities and for whatever reason I justified in my own mind I probably tried to plant a seed only occasionally to this man I deeply loved. I bought him a Bible and presented the gospel message to him maybe a couple of times, but how many opportunities did I miss.

Yesterday, my last patient of the day was crying before I even entered the room. It was Friday and my staff was itching to leave for the weekend. Her last birth (she was delivered elsewhere), due to a rare condition resulted in the loss of not only her baby, but also her uterus leaving her unable to have any more children. I spent around 45 minutes with her and she received a long message about Jesus, the One who never left her during her surgery, the same One who brought her son who never breathed on this earth to heaven, the same One who if she allows will help her get through this situation and move her strongly throughout the rest of her life. I explained that this event will either propel some into a life of regret and bitterness or a life of hope in Jesus. I talked to her about reading through the Bible and about our church, etc.

Many of my staff were not happy when I left the room. When they asked me what happened, I simply told them that she needed Jesus and that's what I did behind that closed door, for which they then understood.