Right Place

So I am sitting at the dining room table of the rectory with a catheter bag showing hanging from the bottom of my bath robe.  Knock at the door.  Distraught parent walks in with family problem.  He wants the pastor.  No pastor at home.  Parent needs to talk.  So I simply invite him into the house chapel, bringing my catheter bag along, rather full at that moment and we talk.  Neither I nor he ever referred to my bizarre situation.  I gave him some things he could do.  He felt better and went home to do as I suggested.  I called him with another idea and follow up.  AsI got into bed I realized that though I am damaged goods, God put me in the right place at the right time to be of some use.  My advice even worked toward the solution!  God does not need perfect people.  God needs willing people who stop focusing on their own misery and help another person.  I usually focus on me and look for sympathy if not pity, and coffee cake.  But that night I did not.  So even if my body is broken I think the real miracle is that my souls is being healed.  Now and then I surprise myself by being a nice guy.  Try it.  It feels good.