More from Rich Dixon
From the top of the hill, I struggled four blocks to the hospital.
Elevator to the basement (how about that?) and there was Leonard, all cheery and smiling.
“Hey, Rich. Good to see you. Welcome back!
“Wow, it’s past noon. I’m hungry. I’ll buy lunch.”
He headed down the hall toward the cafeteria. Anger churning, I struggled to catch up, found him waiting patiently at the cafeteria entrance.
“Burger and fries for two?” Leonard collected the food and drinks, paid the tab, and walked to a table near a window. I followed, weaving through the maze of tables, still seething.
As I arrived, he turned and said with a twinkle in his eye, “I didn’t think you’d want to go outside today. Probably better inside where it’s cool, huh?”
I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be angry. I felt half-cooked and tired. He could have gotten me killed!
But I couldn’t help it. I failed to stifle the smile, and my anger faded as a giggle escaped. I shook my head and chuckled.
“Funny,” I said, laughing harder than I had since my accident. “Real funny.”
+ + +
Leonard’s Hill was an incredible gift, but perhaps not what you think.
Throughout the story of Relentless Grace, the most unlikely people showed up at just the right time.
God didn’t send lessons. He sent people.
So Leonard and I ate lunch. Not a word about what happened, no I told you so, now are you finally going to get to work? He didn’t remind me to be proud of my accomplishment. No one overhearing our conversation would have guessed the significance of the moment.
No Hollywood movie turning point, just an ordinary lunch between friends.
Did my attitude and work ethic change? Not really.
But over time, Leonard’s Hill altered the entire trajectory of the story.
To be continued…