"And another thing!" shouted my boss Riff over the cell phone. "You need to start making better time in delivering cars."
"I've never been late, not once," I protested.
"Oh ha ha ha, very funny. That's about as funny as a marshmallow cookie laced with rat poison."
"Call you back once I have delivered, Riff." I hung up before he could say more. I knew it was all crap he was saying, but his words and his tone affected me much more than usual. It was my birthday last week, and the only call I got was from my Cousin Chris. For a guy who has over 100 good friends nationwide and sees most of them several times per year, I felt very forgotten.
But I am growing older, and find that my friends who had kids now also have grandkids, so no time for Bill Thomas. Normally I would think of this as a pity party, but I know myself well enough by now to realize that I chose not to get married and have kids. So as I age more, less folks have time to spend with me. It recently led me to a dark place in my mind that I've been trying to climb out of. Cousin Chris suggested that I talk to someone about it, but also said I can always speak to God.
I have prayed hard every single day that God would guide me, lead me on the right path, and show me the way. Now I grew up going to church every Sunday, but when I got into college I sort of drifted away. I never stopped believing in God, or that He created us and loves us. Just feeling so alone and not good at all with getting messages from God.
As I drove to Santa Fe I had made some calls and found that there was a counseling clinic that could take me that very afternoon as a walk-in patient. The Toyota Camry I was driving was going to a man in Santa Fe, but he couldn't take delivery until tomorrow, so I would have time to get counseling, get dinner, get a room.
The sun was burning brutally hot in the New Mexican skies. I neared Santa Fe and started paying close attention to the audio directions given to me by the GPS. Traffic got very bad, as it was the beginning of rush hour. Every city has a rush hour. But today it was getting on my nerves more than usual to have people cut me off then slam on their brakes. Or forcing me to stop suddenly because they are coming into my lane beside me.
I found the counseling center and went inside. I felt like I was about to start crying, and it takes a lot to make me cry. When I got to the Doctor's office door, I opened the door only to find a strange woman on the other side of the door fighting with the doorknob. She came along with the door as I opened it.
Spreading my arm out to gallantly offer her the road, I said "I've got the door for you, ladies first."
"What exactly do you mean? That since I'm a woman I can't open doors for myself? You only want doors in this world so that you can lock women away and live in your misogynistic chauvinistic world. Am I right?"
She spit at my feet and stormed off, so I guess she had some issues she was working through.
I walked up to the reception desk. A bright and perky young lady smiled and said, "Welcome, I'm Corky and how can I help you today?"
"My name is Bill Thomas, I called ahead and was told to come in."
"OK, now are you a regular patient?"
"No, I'm just passing through town."
"How long have you lived in Santa Fe?"
I shook my head. "No, I don't live here, I'm just visiting."
She looked perplexed. "You are a resident of the state of New Mexico, aren't you?"
"No ma'am--"
"Please do not call me ma'am."
"Sure, well I'm really down and needed to talk to someone."
"We are all down and we all need someone to talk to. Unfortunately, this is not that place. At least not for you."
"Why?"
"Don't be silly, you know why. You are not a resident of this state, and you don't have an appointment."
"The lady on the phone said that y'all would take me as a walk-in."
"Are you pulling my lariat? No one here would tell you something like that. Now I have an opening one week from today..."
"I won't be here then."
"Where will you be?"
"Driving somewhere in the USA."
She scratched her head with her pen. "Gee, that's a little vague. Sorry honey, guess you'll just have to suck it up and try to move forward."
I stared at her slack jawed. "That's your psychological advice for me?"
"Gosh no, I'm no psychiatric. Sugar, I barely made it out of high school. Good luck to you."
As I walked away from her desk, I was feeling defeated and forlorn. My legs wobbled and I felt dizzy headed. I decided to sit in the waiting room for a second before going back out into the intense heat. My cheeks felt warm and I felt a tear rolling down my face. I closed my eyes and said a prayer, trying like crazy to hang onto my faith.
Ten minutes later, I got up and walked out the door. I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder from behind. I spun around expecting trouble, but it was an elderly hispanic gentleman. "Hold out your hand."
"Beg pardon?"
He took my hand and I allowed him to guide it to where he wanted it, hand open palm up. He held his closed fist over my hand then opened it. A silver cross on a chain fell out of his hand and into mine. He smiled sweetly at me and said "God is watching over you. He's got you." And then he walked away.
I felt like an enormous weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt more free and joyful and alive than I have in months. Because I came to see that even when things seem rough, I am never alone. If there is such a thing as receiving a sign from God, I feel like I just got one.
