God is in the details

A few minutes ago, a lady from Duke Hospital called to let me know my surgery time is 7:10 a.m. and that I should arrive at 5:10 a.m.

She gave me a series of clear instructions and concluded with “Do you have any questions?”

I replied, “May I ask you a personal question? What is the country of your birth?”

Her reply, “Haiti.”

We chatted back and forth in Haitian Creole, and I told her she was part of my story now - a story only God could write.

She went silent. I was afraid I had offended her until she said, “Ou fè m kriye.” (You made me cry.)

I had tears in my eyes, too.