Last fall my 9-year-old son, Austin, had his tonsils removed. Before the surgery, Austin's anesthesiologist came to start an IV. He was wearing a cool surgical cap covered in colorful frogs. Austin loved that "frog hat."
The doctor explained that he had two choices—he could either try to start the IV, or he could wait until Austin was up in the operating room. In the OR the doctor would give Austin some "goofy" gas, and start the IV when he was more relaxed. "So, Austin," he asked, "which do you want?"
Austin replied, "I'll take the gas." But when the doctor started to leave, Austin called, "Hey, wait."
The doctor turned. "Yeah, buddy, what do you need?"
"Do you go to church?"
"No," the doctor admitted. "I know I probably should, but I don't."
Austin then asked, "Well, are you saved?"
Chuckling nervously, the doctor said, "Nope. But after talking to you, maybe it's something I should consider."
Pleased with his response, Austin answered, "Well, you should, 'cause Jesus is great!"
"I'm sure he is, little guy," the doctor said, and quickly made his exit.
After that a nurse took me to the waiting room. Someone would come and get me when Austin's surgery was done.
After about 45 minutes, the anesthesiologist came into the waiting room. He told me the surgery went well and then said, "Mrs. Blessitt, I don't usually come down and talk to the parents after a surgery, but I just had to tell you what your son did."