We were pregnant with our first baby in 1978. Andy was traveling and singing, so on this day of my doctor’s appointment, he wasn’t with me. The appointment went well—mostly weighing and taking my blood pressure. This was way before sonograms and knowing if you were having a boy or girl beforehand! I remember the cashier telling me I needed to go to the small hospital in town to register. So I did. Alone. As I filled out the papers, the man asked me how much I was going to put down as a deposit. He explained that because we had no insurance, we’d have to have the bill completely paid before the birth. I looked up and fear washed over me. I’d barely been able to pay for my doctor’s appointment that day. (We hardly made enough money to pay rent and utilities.). But faith rose up in me and I looked the man square in the eyes and told him God would provide it before the baby was born. He laughed.
Andy came home from his trip and I told him what I’d done and how the man had laughed. I’d fluctuated between fear and faith the whole time Andy was gone. If I remember correctly, I was crying and asked him, “What are we going to DO?” And he replied, “We’re going to ask God to provide!”
Days and weeks went by and we were praying our hearts out—asking God to provide this exorbitant hospital bill. One afternoon, someone knocked on our door. When I opened it, there stood my high school friend and her mother. After they came in, the mom explained that they had paid themselves a bonus (they owned a trucking company) and they felt like God had told them to give it to us. We were overwhelmed—and oh, so grateful!
I’ll never forget the look on that man’s face when I took everything I owed and paid my hospital bill in full. I looked him in the eye and said, “God provided!”
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