It was a few months after surgery and the bills started arriving. Thirty thousand for this, forty for that. My medical bills were racking up. Thankfully, the co-op to which I belong (and my godly wife) had a handle on things and were coming through in the clutch. But there was one reimbursement that was absent, and it was a big one. A check from a co-op member in the sum of about $20,000 was supposed to come in to pay the hospital, but it was late. One month. Then two. I lost my cool on more than on occasion. “Where is that check?!” “Who is this person keeping us hanging like that?” “What is their problem? Don’t they know that we have six-figure bills here?”

Then my wife got the letter. Along with the check was an apology from the individual. “I am so sorry that this is late. I have cancer and am going through rounds of chemotherapy right now, and, because of that, have been experiencing memory loss.”

I wanted to crawl into a cave and never return. The Holy Spirit necessarily and lovingly crushed me with conviction. The judgmental spirit. The speed with which I assumed the worst. It was sinful. And it’s something I have struggled with far too often.

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