A couple of months ago Cheryl and I were visiting a friend who was hospitalized. The hospital was in a town about 45 minutes away, but I had been to that institution several times over the years. We went to information desk and they gave us the room number. We rode the elevator to the floor and started walking down the hallway to the room number we were given. We got about ten steps down the hall when we heard someone behind us say rather loudly, “Excuse me!” I wasn’t sure if they were speaking to us, so I turned around. Sure enough, there was a rather upset looking woman standing up behind a desk. “Have you checked in yet?” she asked, barely disguising the frustration she was feeling. I replied, “I was not aware we had to do so. I never had to do that before when I have visited people here. I’m sorry.” With that she calmed down a bit and explained that the nursery was down another hallway on that floor, so anyone visiting this floor had to check in.

We walked back to the desk and there were a few people ahead of us having their picture taken and then receiving a visitor badge. By the time we got to the front of the line, we had watched the routine so we both had our driver license ready to give the the lady. I apologized again, saying I had made pastoral visits here in the past and was unaware of this requirement. About that time she said, “Oh, you are already in our system,” and proceeded to print a badge. I was confused because I was sure I had never had my picture taken at this hospital.  As soon as I saw the picture, I understood. It was from November of 2016, the day of my last of six retinal surgeries on my right eye. My surgery was in the morning and our youngest daughter gave birth to her daughter that afternoon in Ft. Worth. That hospital required anyone entering the nursery to have a name badge. Since I had surgery that morning, I had a huge patch on my eye. I asked the lady at the hospital in McKinney if I could have a new picture made, but she said, “No. Once you are in the system, you’re in the system.” I guess I will always look like a sorry excuse for a pirate when I visit any of the hospitals in that chain.

That incident made me think of these words of Jesus:

John 10:14–16 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd.

It is a comfort to know that when I stand before Jesus, He will know me. I won’t need a name badge or retinal scan or any other kind of identification.

I also took comfort in the fact that even if I have an eye patch or visible scars or other impairments, even when I stand before Him as the poor miserable sinner that I am, I will be welcomed because I put my confidence in Him and what He did for me. I didn’t save myself. Jesus saved me with His holy, precious blood and His innocent suffering and death, so that I could be His own.

I am Jesus’ little lamb, Ever glad at heart I am;
For my Shepherd gently guides me, Knows my needs, and well provides me,
Loves me every day the same, even calls me by my name.
(The Lutheran Hymnal #648, stanza 1)