These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

We were not surprised by his announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

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These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

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These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.

We were not surprised by his We’ve been on a Journey Together

These words were spoken with precision and passion as my husband’s cardiologist honored us by telling us personally of his retirement.

This doctor is an elegant man, both in his appearance and his manner. His presence changes the atmosphere of a room as he brings confidence, calm and care.

announcement because as we sat in the office waiting room we witnessed the tearful hugs and statements of appreciation by those who had earlier appointments. Today he walked each patient out to the desk as he assigned him or her to a younger colleague.

Waiting for him was a given. We knew he would be late because he was giving the same personal attention to the person ahead of us that he would give to us. Once in his office, time seemed to stop. The only thing important to him was the doctor/patient relationship of the moment.

My husband’s heart condition has a long complicated history and a precarious prognosis but it has never felt like the focus when we met with this doctor.

He seemed more interested in the quality of our life. He asked questions about our ministry as pastors and discussed the vocation of medicine as ministry.

He asked thoughtful questions that would uncover a masked depression or a settling for a more limited life than that our condition mandates.

He loved to hear that we did not have a kitchen table because that is where we dance.

On most visits he reminded us that a day without wine is like a day without sunshine. We talked about the risk of wine causing my husband’s heart to flutter and he said that a small glass was OK with him.

After caring for us as people, he attended to my husbands’ pathology by listening with competence to his heart and lungs. We completely trusted his assurance that all was well. More importantly, we trusted the man who had learned to treat his patients as unique creations made in the image of God. He knows that our bodies are designed for temporary use so he cares for them without challenging their finitude.

Today we had our last appointment with this cardiologist. We will miss these times where dementia was treated with dignity and a diseased heart took second place to a life well lived.

Memories of these office visits will continue to bless us.

We have seen a model of what Jesus may have looked like if God had chosen to visit earth in Waukesha two thousand years later than His appearance in Galilee.

We have been on a journey together.