Christy Sparks struggled against the urge to laugh, but knew she was losing. As Brother Silas, the venerable choir director, led the assembled multitude gathered inside the Faith of Our Fathers sanctuary into another verse of what was, at best, joyful noise, she gave up trying to keep a straight face and sought to hide her big grin behind an open hymnal. It proved a futile effort at avoiding the puzzled glances of her husband and the other worshippers standing nearby.

How would she, how could she, tell him the reason for her embarrassing behavior—that incredible story she’d heard Friday at her new job? She had meant to do so during the weekend, but the moment never seemed right. If she had, maybe he’d now understand. Then again, maybe not.

With the ink on her Masters in Social Work barely dry, she’d jumped at the chance to work at the city’s Alcohol and Drug Detox Center. The job would be a challenge, but one she felt ready and eager to accept. 

The center’s other staff members, who went out of their way to be supportive and helpful, had made her first week on the job easier. On Friday, the unit’s director of nursing even took her out for lunch. That’s when she heard, The Story. 

Lynn Cahill, the DON, wasn’t much older than Christy, and had a special knack for putting both patients and employees at ease. When their conversation got around to the unit’s other staffers, she asked if Christy had met Dr. Matthews. The courtly, semi-retired physician came in several days a week to take care of the physicals required of new patients.

“Oh, yes,” said Christy. “He seems very nice in an old-fashioned sort of way.”

Lynn nodded. “He really is a sweetheart, but let me tell you, he has a sly, teasing sense of humor. Several weeks ago he stopped by the nurse’s station on his way out and asked if we’d gone over the physical he’d done the day before on one of the new admits.

“We assured him we had, which was true. But he insisted we hadn’t read it thoroughly, which was also true. He challenged us to check it out very carefully after he left.

“Believe me, the door had barely closed behind him before we all rushed over and pulled that patient’s file. As I said, we had read the important, health related, stuff but skipped some of the minor information.

“Down at the bottom of the form, under the heading, Distinguishing Scars or Markings, Dr. Matthews had printed in big capital letters, TATTOO, SHAFT OF PENIS, WORDS: LOVE LIFTED ME.”

The congregation and choir of Faith of Our Fathers Church swung into another chorus of the old hymn, Love Lifted Me:

Love lifted me! 
Love lifted me! 
When nothing else could help 
Love lifted me!

It was too much. The giggles were about to win. Mumbling her apologies, Christy quickly worked her way past the other worshippers on the pew hoping to get outside before she broke into a total laughing fit.

As she reached the heavy double-door, the hymn abruptly ended. The sanctuary plunged into an unnatural silence, except for the voice of Brother Silas as he boomed out an enthusiastic, “Amen.”

That’s when, while halfway out the church doors, Christy Sparks lost her struggle.