My Monday morning events would have made perfect National Enquirer headline fodder. However, there’s more to the story, so before the rumors skyrocket into the stratosphere? Allow me set the record straight.
Okay. I am a pastor’s wife. That part’s true. The Woodlands are a largely affluent suburb in north Houston. Affirmative. My plastic surgeon is the lone practitioner at his location. Again, yes.
Also true-I was referred to this surgeon by my dermatologist a couple of months ago because a biopsy just above the right side of my upper lip confirmed basal cell carcinoma, a common skin cancer.. It’s removal required surgical intervention because of it’s location on a part of my face where the risk of permanent damage to facial nerves is high and as a means to minimize scarring.
I was referred to this particular plastic surgeon because he accepts referrals from my dermatologist. The actual location of his practice is completely incidental.
Do you see why it’s so important that we get the whole story?
Why it’s so important that we don’t just read the headline and assume?
Why it’s so important that we read between the lines, as it were?
I am thankful for many things today, including-
Competent, alert physicians who take your skin history seriously and follow through to get answers and recommend appropriate treatment.
A fair-skinned, freckled, family history (my dad deals with these removals regularly) that has long kept me alert to this possibility and reminds me what a fragile, precious gift life truly is.
The fact that while my smile my ultimately show slight asymmetry (I’m pretty sure it was always a tad twerked anyway) I still have one and that is a beautiful thing.
The skilled hands of surgeons whose expertise and accessibility I so easily take for granted.
Most of all, though, I’m grateful to God the Healer. All the surgery on the planet cannot heal me or truly make me smile from the inside out.
I told the surgeon I didn’t need any presents under the tree this year because he brought mine early.
In priceless.
That’s not going to stop my spouse.
There’s a growing Amazon pile in his office as mounting proof.
Two can play that game, mister.
It is ON.
Please pray that God will be pleased to grant me healing even as He has gifted this particular surgeon’s hands for this relatively minor procedure.
It made a great headline though, didn’t it?
It was actually my friend, Sarah’s idea.
She’s one of God’s great friendship gifts who regularly makes me laugh and keeps me on my toes.
I am profoundly grateful.
Soli Deo Gloria.
A Comedy of Heirs 
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