Hospitals have a hierarchy of authority and respect that is quite rigid. Neurosurgeons and cardiologists walk about the halls like gods, dispensing hope for life and verdicts of death. Standing at the altar of knowledge and science, all other mortals bow in their presence. Hospitals are filled with physicians, nurses, administrators, orderlies and, of course, the maintenance workers who wash the laundry and clean the building.
The Kingdom of God also operates under authority. One of my first jobs as a believer was in a large teaching hospital, transporting laundry. I often wondered, as I watched surgeons, nurses and administrators move through the halls, what the LORD’S chain of authority was within the hospital. Who had the anointing and the burden of standing before God, amidst the hustle and bustle of life and death? In the middle of mind-boggling technology and moral complexity, I watched for some sign of who it was that had the ear of God.
One day, as I wheeled a load of dirty laundry though the underground tunnels of the hospital complex, I once again started asking God for an answer. As I turned the corner, a young mentally challenged man stood mopping the floor. His face beamed with joy, an aura of peace and power emanating from him as he pushed his mop across the floor. I stopped as I heard the voice of God rise up in my heart.
“There. There is the man who has my ear. There is the man who knows my heart for this place.”
I stood, watching the young man mop the floor. I remembered that the weakness of God is greater than the strength of man. God chooses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise.
As I started back down the hall, I smiled and nodded to the disabled custodian; God’s watchman over the hospital; thankful to have entered into the presence of the man who was standing before the King of Life.