Tag: MercyMed

Confessions to a Crack Addict

Posted on by Billy Holbrook

by Dr. Grant Scarborough

I saw his name on my rounding list. I only work in the hospital four days a month, so I am not there often. Normally I work in my clinic to care for the indigent in town—but not today.

I recognized his name right away. One of my indigent patients was in the hospital again. I read the note in the chart before going to see him. The words: “Crack. Again.” A statement in the records said, “well-known to the hospitalist service,” which meant he was admitted often. His crack had caused his heart to be weak and pump very poorly making him chronically short of breath, his lungs filling with fluids. I was trying to remember my patient as I walked in, but I did not remember him being on crack.

Disheveled, labored breathing, sitting in a chair with oxygen was my patie…. wait, this guy is not my patient—he just has the same name. “Thank goodness.” I let down my guard a little. I had a lot of patients to see and since this was not my private patient, I could hustle through this guy.  

This was basic medicine—continue the diuretic, wean oxygen, may need a thoracentesis for the pleural effusion, and a little more time. The reality though was his heart was really weak, and he would be chronically short of breath. It was obvious—he could not finish a sentence without taking another breath. But it was his own fault: crack cocaine. And you know what? He knew it was all his fault.

So I started to walk out. You can only help people that desire to change.

“Doctor?” I was reaching the door. “That was a nice article about you in the paper,” he said. “Huh?” Actually I had been in the paper recently—but this guy can’t read—like he reads the paper—come on—(I was thinking).  He said, “I told my neighbors, ‘this doctor right here, he is my doctor.’”

My heart sank—I must have been confused. He was my patient. I completely rushed through seeing him. I did nothing but do my duty of caring for physical need. So many questions ran through my mind—Why do I care about people differently? Why do I treat him differently if he did this to himself?

“This doctor right here, he is my doctor.”

I slowly walked back in and knelt down beside his chair. Conversation restarts. “How are you doing in here?” We talked some more and then I said, “You know you are valuable. You are too valuable to waste your life on crack.” “You told me that last time doctor. The last time I was in the office. You know I thought a lot about that and I have not used crack in 6 weeks,” I was overwhelmed. Because of our conversation, and the realization that he is valuable, he stopped a 40-year addiction. As I walked out of the room he said one last thing, “Doctor, thank you for doing what you do. Don’t stop.”

Once out of the room, I broke down. If only he knew I did not remember him. If only he knew I thought less of him because of his addiction. If only he knew of my arrogance. Wow! If only I knew of my imperfections. I went back to dictate, and I could not get him out of my mind. He said some really nice things about me and he had to know. He had to know the real doctor.

I walked in again. “I think you need to know… I am not an angel. Just ask my wife.” I laughed to ease my tension. I went on to confess areas in my life where I struggle and fall short. I confessed my life of different addictions. I confessed that I am not nearly as godly as that article made me sound or as he thinks I am. “Doctor, no one is perfect, but we are both on the road.” “Yes we are.”

My struggle is not crack and my struggles are not his—but we both need Jesus. We are both broken sinners that need a Savior. We are no different. I have hurt myself with sin just as he has hurt his heart. And the reality is that our only hope is Christ. And yes, we are both on the same road.

We left confirming this verse:

That He [Jesus] who began a good work in us, will bring it to completion.

If you confess your sins to one another, you will be saved.

From Kosovo to Columbus

Posted on by Billy Holbrook

by Jeff Barkhouse, FNP

Serving in a ministry context in a predominately Muslim culture is not the logical preparation path for doing health care at MercyMed, but that is exactly the career trajectory that God had in store for me and my family as we transitioned back to the United States after living and working with Albanians in the Balkans for the last twenty years. I haven’t met many Albanian speakers here in Columbus, but I have met a number of people with whom I can share the hope I have in Christ. It turns out that there are hurting people everywhere, even back where you came from.

I worked as a Registered Nurse and Family Nurse Practitioner for 10 years in the U.S.A. before moving overseas to join a team of people seeking to plant a church among Albanian Muslims. While I thought I would be doing health care overseas, I found that what was needed was the more traditional ministry tasks of teaching, discipleship, and preaching.  In a society and culture with vastly more health clinics and pharmacies than churches the traditional ministry roles were a much more vital commodity than my health care background. So for twenty years I taught English, taught the Bible, preached, discipled, encouraged the fledgling church where we served, and, eventually was ordained for that work through the PCA.

As our ministry and family matured we felt the Lord’s leading to return to the States for the next phase in our lives. I was open to serving in a traditional ministry capacity, but those opportunities did not open up in Columbus where we wanted to settle, so I happily began looking at opportunities to work again as a nurse practitioner. After having served as a volunteer nurse at MercyMed when we were home on furlough in 2012, I naturally wondered whether there might be an opening for a rather out of practice nurse practitioner with lots of ministry experience. Dr. Scarborough was very gracious and generous to say he would help me in any way to get re-established as a nurse practitioner regardless of where I might end up working in the long run. That was all the indication I needed to know that MercyMed was, in fact, where I wanted to land.

So having been here now for the last two months I am excited about being re-trained as a nurse practitioner in a context where my ministry experience is not simply a historical career oddity but a valued asset in the patient care setting.  It turns out the team culture of ministry is consistent across geographical and cultural borders. So being a missionary in Kosovo is not too different than being a nurse practitioner in Columbus if you have the opportunity and freedom to do it in the name of Christ. I’m privileged to do so here at MercyMed.

Behold What Manner

Posted on by Billy Holbrook
by Dr. Grant Scarborough

He was an old white man living in a racially divided city, the city where Martin Luther King was shot and killed. Racial relationships were strained at best and the only thing people could agree on in the entire city was Elvis and BBQ. But I had lived there for a few years and had begun to understand the unspoken rules.

So when I saw the older man in the hospital, I was a little confused. After I met him, I turned around and saw a younger black woman in there as well. “Hmmm—who is she?” I thought. She was very attentive. She asked a few questions. “Maid? Caregiver?” She really did not act like either one.

Everyday I came to check on my new friend. Everyday she was there. He slowly improved. She took notes. She would talk to the patient about details. I examined him every day. He was slowly improving, but I was so curious.

I could not take it anymore—I turned to the old white man in the bed, “Sir, who is this young black lady in the room everyday.” He looked at the girl with a twinkle in his eye, smiled and then said, “Doctor, I have two daughters, one of them is adopted and I know not which one she is.”

What great love!

If you are a Christian—a believer in Christ—can you see and smell the gospel in this story? Do you realize what Christ has done for you? Because of his great love for you, because of his rescue of mankind by dying on the cross; because of his blood spilled and covering your skin, you too can hear the same words.

You will stand, one day, in front of the God of heaven and earth and beside you will be your elder brother, Jesus. And God Himself will look down and say, “I see two children before me, one of them is adopted and I know not which one it is.”

When you are loved by God, you are loved completely. You are His Child. He loves you. He is proud of you. He turns His face to you in love, and with a twinkle in his eye, smiles and says, “Child, you are mine!”

Behold what manner of love the Father has for us, that we should be called sons and daughters of God, and that is what you are! AMEN.

Seeds

Posted on by Billy Holbrook

Dr. Grant Scarborough

(pictured above, Dr. Grant Scarborough and Dr. Robert Campbell.)

 

Seeds are pretty simple. You plant and water and then wait. Add a little fertilizer, water a little more and wait. It seems like a lot of waiting.

After a while there’s a shoot from the dirt – then more waiting. My garden is not the best of gardens. Many plants grow up and then bear no fruit. Well that just stinks. I really think that as much money as I spend on my garden – and the little fruit I receive – it would be cheaper to go to the grocery store and buy the entire vegetable section. But don’t tell my wife, she likes the backyard dirt.

Sometimes you get that one plant that completely over produces and it makes it completely worthwhile. One year it was our cherry tomato plant and once it was our cucumbers. Last week I saw some more over production from seeds planted in Augusta, Georgia ten years ago.

In 2007 I moved to Augusta to try and start a clinic with a friend Robert Campbell. We had so little. Many of you know the story of God’s faithfulness, and how God provided for our families and our clinic. It was the biggest step of faith we had ever taken as a family. We planted a small seed called caring for the poor. We prayed, many people watered it. Somehow, it grew.

I was able to go visit it last week. I was overwhelmed. The seed had grown into a tree. I think of the bible story where a very small seed was planted and grew into the largest tree in the garden where many birds came and nested in that tree. I saw a clinic in Augusta, where many of the poor have come and found a home. They found a tree where they were cared for. They found a resting place. They found hope. They found Jesus.

I was even more amazed to see many names on a sign on a wall that made it possible. Many people from Columbus, GA were on the sign. Amazing! People from a different city planted a seed. You need to know that in a different city and in a different garden, the great gardener God grew a beautiful tree. The people in Augusta do not know I am writing this – but I encourage you all to go visit and see the seed that was planted by many from Columbus. See the seed that has grown into a fruitful tree.

In 2011 I moved to Columbus and more seeds were planted. It allowed us to open another clinic called MercyMed of Columbus on January 19, 2012. Exactly five years ago. Today is our five year birthday. I am overwhelmed as a I write about how God blessed MercyMed. I report on this fifth birthday that our success is due to many things and today I stand to give glory where glory is due. After completing an expansion, adding dentistry, hiring a new nurse practitioner, expanding counseling – we stand to give glory first and foremost to the God of Heaven and Earth.

Deuteronomy 8:11-18 says,  

“Take care lest you forget the Lord your God by not keeping his commandments and his rules and his statutes, which I command you today, 12 lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, 13 and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, 14 then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, 15 who led you through the great and terrifying wilderness, with its fiery serpents and scorpions and thirsty ground where there was no water, who brought you water out of the flinty rock, 16 who fed you in the wilderness with manna that your fathers did not know, that he might humble you and test you, to do you good in the end.17 Beware lest you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand have gotten me this wealth.’ 18 You shall remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your fathers, as it is this day.”

We desire to publicly acknowledge on our fifth birthday, that it is all about Jesus. We want to remember Him and acknowledge – it was not the might of our hand and our power. It was all about God. We will remember and celebrate Jesus first and foremost today. We will NOT forget!

But I also want to thank you. You have planted seeds with us. You have invested in us. We dug some dirt, manipulated the soil, you planted seeds, we all watered and God showed up. Thank you for being a part of what God is doing in Columbus, GA. Thank you for investing in MercyMed, but even more, what God is doing for the poor in this city.

May we, today on our fifth birthday, celebrate Christ. Let’s celebrate Him as the defender of the poor; let’s celebrate Him who is the Great Provider; let’s celebrate Him as the Lover of our Souls; let’s celebrate Him who so kindly and graciously waters the little seeds we planted; let’s celebrate Him who brings forth the sprouts that lead to fruit.

Let’s celebrate – not MercyMed – let’s celebrate Christ!

To God be the glory. Great things He has done!

I Felt It

Posted on by Billy Holbrook

Dr. Grant Scarborough –excerpt from Dr. Scarborough’s book “Awake My Soul”

(Written after moving from Augusta to Columbus to start a new medical clinic)

Yesterday, I finished my work in Augusta to move to Columbus. Can I just say, “bittersweet.” You start a ministry and then leave the ministry to start another. That’s actually not that bittersweet. There is more to ministry than buildings, schedules, and meetings. Ministry is people, real living and breathing people. Real people that hurt, have pain and loss, and need the love of Jesus. Bittersweet! I have left many of my friends in Augusta; Lord provide for them—send another missionary to them to love, sacrifice and care for them.

Jerry Charlie or Charlie Jerry—to be honest, I have never known—has been a patient of mine for a couple of years. He used to be a truck driver, but being in his late 70’s and having some medical problems, he could no longer drive. He still went to work everyday, just to drink some coffee and remember the good ol’ days. He prayed for me the day before I moved to Columbus, but that was not the first time.

One day during our clinic visit, I was really feeling rushed. Trying to hurry him out, he stopped and asked if I could pray him. I felt so guilty that I did not take time to care for all of him. He wanted me to pray when I just wanted to give him some medicines. How blinded I can become some days.  I actually gave him a few things for him to pray for me. I love doing this. People need to know I am broken and need a Savior as much they do. So we prayed together. I will never forget that day. He squeezed my hand and prayed—he got into a rhythm and every new phrase he squeezed tighter—then another phrase and another squeeze.  “We thank you Lord, Amen.” “Did you feel it Dr. Scarborough?” were the next words out of his mouth as he held his finger close to my face. And Yes, I felt it; I was the one blessed. I was so refreshed by his prayer. I was truly blessed. “Thank you Jerry…I mean Charlie,” I mumbled.

I invited him to our clinic Bible study and I remember his first prayer request—“pray for me, I do not have any friends. I live with 3 other guys in a trailer, and I do not get along with any of them. Pray for me. I am lonely.” We prayed for him and the Lord answered. We were to be his friends. He kept coming to Bible Study. It was a sweet time. Bible study is a neat mix of people and backgrounds that come to hear a little about Jesus. I will never forget the time I did a study on Luke and one of my patients stated that Luke was his favorite disciple.

The next week, we discussed a passage in the book of John and my same friend stated, “Dr. Scarborough, I love John the Baptist—therefore, I love the book of John.”

I know John the Baptist did not write the book of John, he was beheaded way before it was written. But I was afraid that my friend would outwit me again, so I was silent. Maybe what I learned in Bible school was wrong. “I love John the Baptist too.”

I digress.

So Jerry or Charlie was there during our interesting conversations. I still was not sure what his name was and everybody in the Bible Study would mumble one name or the other, until one day he put the whole matter to rest, “I am diggin the Jerry!” he said. So from then on, it was always Jerry. Honestly, I was diggin the Jerry also.

So Jerry came to our Bible Study, we went out to dinner, and he came over for dinner as well. My intern and good friend, Will, that led the Bible study with me would go pick him up and just be with him. It was a great picture, a 19-year-old white intern with a late 70-something black man. Will called him up one day and invited him to dinner, “anywhere you want to go Jerry, I am paying.” Jerry asked him if he needed to dress up. My poor intern looked worried because he was poor and obviously Jerry must be thinking of some place nice. And he was, they feasted that night at Ryan’s Steakhouse.

A few months later Will went with Jerry to a revival at his church. Will sang, lifted his hands, and danced all night next to his good friend Jerry. After taking Jerry out to eat a few times, he surprised Will and took him out to eat.

Jerry came over to my house for Easter lunch. It was my family, with all my girls, Will and my widowed next-door neighbor. My next-door neighbor was a very proper and well-off lady in her late 70s, sweet as pie I might add.  Everytime we kids went next door, she gave us ice cream sandwiches.

We always sing after eating our Sunday lunch and this time, Jerry led us in worship.  He sang Amazing Grace as loud as anyone has ever sung in my house before, and Anne, the girls, Will and our neighbor all joined in. The kingdom of God is very beautiful. I cannot help but think that heaven will look a little like Jerry, my neighbor, and my girls singing in unison to our heavenly Father.

When I was close to moving, I had my last clinic appointment with Jerry. We talked and laughed. I am not sure if we discussed medicine at all. He knew I was driving every week to Columbus. He looked at me and made me promise. “Promise me every time before you get in the car and drive, that you pray for traveling mercies. Promise me. I have been a truck driver for years and the Lord has always protected me when I prayed that prayer. The Lord will protect you as well.” Then he prayed, squeezed my hand, got into a rhythm, squeezed tighter, repeated it again before, “Amen, Did you feel it Dr. Scarborough?” Sometimes I forget who the minister is in the room. Did the Lord send me to minister to Jerry or did the Lord send Jerry to minister to me?  I am not sure what the answer is but am grateful to the Lord for my friend .

A week before moving to Columbus, I had a going away party for myself. I invited all my patients to come, and we would cook them dinner, sing some songs, and be together. They could meet my wife and kids. It was so wonderful. Halfway through the night Dale walked up and told me he wanted to pray for my family before the night was over. Dale is a rural white Pentecostal assistant preacher that helps lead revivals throughout the southeast. I am sure he could get pretty loud preaching.  I love him and his wife—you would love Dale and even walk the aisle and come to Jesus again when he preached, if he would just shave that mustache. Sorry, Dale.

I wasn’t sure what to tell Dale of his request to pray when we already had a plan of staff members sending us out in prayer. I was pondering this even more when we had finished singing and I was saying a few words to remind them of Christ’s love. As I was speaking, I saw Ms. Francis Sims. She was an African American lady that led a small congregation. She closed down her church a couple of months ago because of lack of funds. She too had been going to revivals with a different prophet, Prophet Dent. I loved Francis. After every sentence, she would emphatically say, “Amen.” Hold on for one second, I feel myself regressing. One day Francis came in when my ex-dancer, ex-prostitute, ex-madam friend was there who had been dramatically saved from her profession, and who liked to emphatically state “Praise the Lord!” after every sentence. I put them in the same room and simply said, “start talking.” I sat back and laughed as I heard “Amen” and “Praise the Lord” ring out time and time again. What a musical chorus.

Francis asked me to preach at her church a couple of times. What a highlight to my ministry in Augusta: preaching to about 15 people with all my might. I don’t know who spoke more that morning, me or the congregation. I never found that rhythm Jerry so easily finds when he prays. Which reminds me, Jerry was in the audience as well that night at the patient party. So that night was closed not with the staff praying over us, but some of my dear friends, Jerry, Francis, and Dale.

They laid their hands on me—and my wife and girls—and prayed. They prayed for our safety, they thanked God for our ministry, and they prayed for you—Columbus. They prayed God would bless our new ministry; they prayed God would prepare hearts in Columbus to hear the gospel; they prayed Jesus would be glorified. Jerry never got into a rhythm this time. He got choked up pretty early on in the prayer, stopped suddenly and said, “I am too emotional…Lord protect them!” He did not have to say it this time, but I felt it. The entire group felt it.

So the Scarborough family comes to Columbus—sent out to you, sent out from Augusta. Sent not by the mayor, the attorney, nor the banker—but sent out by a Pentecostal preacher, an ex-truck driver, and African American preacher—Dale, Jerry and Francis, my friends.

Lord protect my Augusta friends and provide for them.

Thank you

 

Postscript:

Since writing this, Dale and his wife have come to Columbus and we had dinner at Cracker Barrel. Jerry has come for the weekend, and I had him pray for the family everyday. This time our family felt his prayer.  It has been five years and my intern, Will, still calls his friend, Jerry, every week.