A divine appointment: God’s invitation to his unfolding story

Mackenzie Ryan Walters

By Mackenzie Ryan Walters

I put off the call for days, then a week. Whenever I thought about making the doctor’s appointment, it was too early or too late. The radiology clinic wasn’t open, or they’d already closed for the day.  

My schedule finally aligned, and I booked an MRI a few weeks later. Fifteen years ago, doctors found three bulging discs in my back and neck. I was past due for an update to see why I was having more trouble than usual.

When the day came, I checked into the radiology clinic, looked around the empty space, and sat on a vinyl loveseat across from the television.

The local morning show was reporting the weather. I’d already completed my paperwork, so I settled in for the wait.

I pulled out my phone and had barely opened an app when I felt something touch my leg, then my shoulder.

Who is touching me?

Whoever it was had squeezed into the loveseat, disregarding the empty seats around us. They were so close that my left leg and side were now pressed against their right shoulder and hip.

Who is touching me?

The pressure of someone’s body now pressed against mine was so unexpected that it took a moment to wrap my mind around what was happening. My mind was more surprised than angry.

Who is touching me?

I turned and looked into the deep brown eyes of a woman I knew, an acquaintance who sometimes attended my Saturday morning Bible study.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice softening in recognition.

We exchanged, briefly, our medical appointments. The tests we were about to go through. Hers sounds more nerve-wracking than mine.

“I had no idea,” I said, holding her gaze. “You never said anything. I -- I didn’t know.”

This beautiful woman who always seemed to put together, with her coordinating outfits and bangle jewelry, appeared fine on the outside. But inside, she was struggling. And I had no idea.

“No one would ever know,” she said to me. “I work really hard so no one would ever know.”

A nurse called my name, and our exchange was cut short. We promised to pray for each other. And I did: as I walked down the hall, as I changed into the gowns they provide. I prayed through my MRI and texted her when I got home.

I was so focused on praying, on answering his invitation to prayer, that the MRI went by quickly and without event. If I had any anxiety about the test or my results, it had slipped quietly and unassumingly away.

An invitation to pray for a friend

God invited Mackenzie to pray for a Bible study friend when she ran into her at an appointment for her own medical challenge.

Her words clung to me that week, echoing through my spirit while I cooked dinner or folded laundry or took my dog, Maddie, for a walk.  

No one would ever know.

I prayed for her health and connection, but more than anything, I prayed that she’d share her struggles with our Bible study.

Our struggle, I knew, can be hidden away. With no outside displays of health challenges, shielding our struggles with a brave face is tempting.

No one would ever know.

If my herniated discs taught me anything, it was the importance of support — of finding people who could empathize, sit with you, and encourage you.

As a journalist, I recognized the difference between a fact and a story. A fact is what happened. A story is what you did with what happened. A faith story, I believe, is how your relationship with God changed while you responded to what happened.

I sustained three bulging discs in my late 20s while driving on a highway in Florida. That’s the facts of what happened.

My story is what I did next: A complex narrative that brought me in and out of counseling, introduced me to God and deepened my relationship with him, and showed me firsthand how to support and care for others who are struggling with unseen challenges, illness, and pain.

No one would ever know.

I felt God’s slow, steady calling to share stories like mine, as well as light-hearted and joyful stories of his love and joy. It’s why I launched faithstoryteller.org, where I published a book on how to write a faith story, and why I’m inviting you to share your faith story with our readers.

Today, Faith Storytellers attracts readers from the United States and Canada, from England and Australia, from India and South Africa, and from the Philippines and Ethiopia.

God invited me into his story to walk with him as I responded to what happened, and I continue to be humbled and excited by how his story unfolds. It’s a story that’s not what I would have chosen, yet somehow, God knows it’s what I need.  

Telling the story of our divine appointment

A field trip Mackenzie’s Bible study took last summer.

A few weeks later, my acquaintance came to our weekend Bible study. In the leader’s basement art studio, surrounded by women of different ages and denominations and backgrounds, we lean into God’s word and how to understand his story in our lives.

I was glad to see her. Then she surprised me: Unprompted, she told the story of running into me at the doctor’s office. Then she shared, briefly, her illness.

A room full of a woman offered their love and support.

"God's timing," a woman said.

“A divine appointment,” another said.

I nodded, the sun streaming through glass sliding doors and floor-length windows of the room.

“I was wondering why I was having trouble scheduling my MRI,” I chimed in, sparking laughter and lightening the mood. “I had a lot of trouble scheduling that appointment.”

My acquaintance turned the conversation serious again, seemingly determined to recognize the holiness of the moment.

"It was the look in your eyes," she said. "It meant more to me than you'd ever know."

"It wasn't me," I said. “All I could think was: Who is touching me?”

The room burst into laughter, and I said a silent prayer of thanks. My prayer had been answered, yet he had done so much more.  

In sharing her story, I shared my story, too. Doctors found a fourth bulging disc. I now had an even set of pairs: Two in my neck and two in my back.

I wasn’t planning on mentioning it, fearful of being the constant burden of medical challenges with a group of relatively healthy women.

But how could my new friend share her medical story of bumping into me at the radiologists with me also explaining what I was doing there? And what the doctors found?  

God had orchestrated a divine appointment that benefited both of us, and he’d answered my prayer in a way that acknowledged my unspoken need: A sense that I was far from alone.

If God allowed it to happen, I believe God will see me through. And he won’t be alone. He’ll invite others into my story — just like he was inviting me into a new friend’s story. Her words continue to echo.

It meant more to me than you’d ever know.

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Mackenzie Ryan Walters is the editor of faithstoryteller.org, the author of “Faith Storytellers: Unleash the Power of Your Story,” and a professional book ghostwriter and marketing strategist. She enjoys hiking, gardening, biking, and spending time with her family. She lives in West Des Moines, Iowa, with her husband Andy, their two boys, and their dog Maddie.