A Healing Love. Doris English
Dr. Mark Harrod, assistant chief of staff, was Dr. David McBride’s right-hand man and devoted to Laura. She shook her head attempting to dismiss Mark from the equation that plagued her. She frowned as his dear familiar face smiled from the corridor of her memory, only to be pushed aside by the image of a handsome, dark-eyed giant who whispered, “Well, are you Wonder Woman?”
Thunder rolled across the old heart pine floors, reverberating against the wall and waking Laura from a much-needed afternoon nap. A bolt of lightning illumined the curtained dimness of the room, followed by another peal of thunder and a gust of wind that shook the old farmhouse. Reluctant to move, she gathered the cool, smooth sheets beneath her chin and flinched as the furious storm outside vented its fury.
She closed her eyes and memories of last evening’s frenzy matched the rhythm of the squall outside her home. What a homecoming last night proved. No sooner had she reported for duty than she learned that for the first time she was to be left in charge of the clinic, with neither Mark nor her father in calling distance. They had been gone only a couple of hours when a major crisis had occurred.
She chuckled mirthlessly as she remembered her frustration tinged with envy when she had left Darlene yesterday. Driving home, she’d daydreamed of what it would be like to show the clinic that the youngest Dr. McBride had the skill and intelligence to be a competent physician and surgeon.
Her fantasy had become reality too soon. Near panic had engulfed her when Tom Watson arrived on a stretcher, his mangled limbs covered with blood from a logging accident. One look told her there would be no time to wait for assistance. She shuddered. The muscles in her shoulders still ached from the long hours holding a scalpel in her hand while fighting for the injured logger’s life.
Her smile broadened. Tom had survived and, without any unforeseen complications, would have only minimal disability. A warm glow spread through her even now as she remembered her dad’s arrival and the soft words of praise he spoke. Last night she had met a challenge and passed it with flying colors; now she no longer had to wonder about her ability to respond when the chips were down.
Suddenly, a sense of freedom released the tensions of last night and she sighed with relief and thanksgiving. Throwing back the covers, she hopped out of bed and bounded down the stairs to face the storm with a newfound confidence.
The red-gold boards of the flooring felt smooth and cool to her bare feet as she walked toward the front door of the stately old farmhouse. She tightened her robe around her waist and peered through the leaded-glass window in the massive oak door. The muted afternoon light caressed Laura’s face, revealing faint lines of fatigue around her eyes. She pushed against the door and stepped through.
The fierce spring squall that had rolled down from the mountains behind her, depositing a downpour on the valley, had departed as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the air washed sweet and clean. A heavy fog clung to the mountains, shrouding their peaks. Laura breathed deeply and savored the change.
A movement behind interrupted her reverie, and she turned to meet the warm affection in the eyes of her grandfather Jonah McBride. He sat in the oak swing that had been hanging serenely at the end of the porch for as long as she could remember.
She knew he had been watching the storm. “God’s fireworks,” he called them, claiming it helped a man to be reminded of the Almighty’s awesome power, lest he take it for granted.
Now his serene gaze questioned hers and he shook his head.
She explained sheepishly, “The storm awakened me.”
“Storm or not, you didn’t get enough sleep, Laura,” he barked in his gravelly voice.
“Is the doctor diagnosing the doctor?” She grinned, turning one corner of her mouth up, revealing a dimple.
“I don’t diagnose since I retired from practice. I’m just speaking as a concerned grandfather to the apple of his eye,” Jonah stated, his eyes bright blue under craggy brows. He patted the seat beside him and added softly, “Rough night, honey? Come over here and tell me all about it.”
Her smile broadened as she returned the warmth in his eyes. “As if you didn’t already know.”
“I’d still like to hear the whole story from you.”
“Dad told you about Tom?”
“Yes, but mostly he told me about a certain Dr. McBride, third-generation physician. Glowing report. Seems she saved a man’s life.”
“Not by myself.”
“You were the only physician available,” he reminded her.
“I thought I really wanted that opportunity and when it came—”
“You found out you were really a doctor,” Jonah proposed, an ancient wisdom firing his eyes.
“Yes, I found out, Papa,” Laura murmured, more to herself than him.
“And how did it feel?”
“Like sweet relief.”
Jonah chewed the side of his lip and raised one eyebrow questioningly.
“I didn’t let Dad down,” she explained haltingly.
“Is that what’s behind all this?”
“How could I ever measure up to everyone’s expectations? To most of the people around the clinic, I’m still his little girl playing with stethoscopes. Sometimes I think he still thinks I am.”
“Then why did you come back here, Laura?”
“Because I love him, and if I didn’t return, who would carry on his work? This clinic was his dream.”
“One man can’t choose another man or woman’s dream. I can’t choose for you.” He smiled, but sadness turned the blue in his twinkling eyes to gray as he added, “And neither can your dad. I should know. That’s what I did to him and it almost destroyed our relationship.”
“But his dream is noble and pure.”
Jonah chuckled a bitter little laugh, remembering. “Even so, you must find your own destiny, the one God has tailored just for you.”
“And what about the clinic? You know how vital it is to these people.”
“Then God will send someone else to pick up the mantle if you’re not the one.”
“Who’s to say I’m not?”
“No one except you. Search your heart to find the seat of your reluctance. When you find it you’ll have your answer.”
“Perhaps I’m afraid of what I’ll find,” she confessed. Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“And join millions of others who have traded fulfillment for safety and security. You are unique with gifts and dreams fashioned by a loving God just for you. Choose any other game plan and you’ll miss the excitement of fulfilling your destiny.”
“Sometimes it’s easier said than done.”
“True. However, life’s not about being easy but about being productive,” Jonah added with a shake of his head.
“I can be productive here,” Laura insisted, not yet willing to reveal her doubts.
“Sure you can.”
“Then what do you mean, Papa?”
“That it needs to be your dream and not a lukewarm extension of your father’s. I only want for you to know it is here before you commit yourself. So you’ll never have to wonder or struggle with regret.”
“But how will I know?”
“Know what?”
“The difference between mine and his.”
The question hung suspended in air, unanswered, as a muffled roar sounded.
Jonah stood and moved stiffly toward the