I finally got the call I’d been waiting for, “Come on in, we have a six antigen match kidney for you.” A six antigen match? A perfect match. Perfect. Sweet, sweet music to my dialysis-weary body.

It was such a sure thing that I was prepped for surgery and ready to be wheeled into the operating room as soon as we got the official go-ahead from the tissue typers. The doctor finally got the call.

“What? IMPOSSIBLE!” he yelled into the phone. “You made a mistake, do it again!” He slammed the phone down and spoke a foreign language under his breath.

He finally turned to me and said, “We have to run the tests again. They must have done something wrong. What they are telling me is impossible.”

However, confirmed by the second round of tests, it turns out the results weren’t impossible. It’s just that, apparently, none of the doctors had ever before heard of it happening with a six antigen match.

To the best of my recollection, the problem was that the last T cell showed a reaction. Because of this, I could not receive the kidney because my body would reject this perfect match before I left the operating room and there would be no way to stop the rejection from happening. Alas, my perfect match was not the perfect match for me.

Obviously upset and looking a little confused, the doctor apologized profusely and then sent me home. This was the second time I had been called to the hospital when I was going to leave without a new kidney. It was going to be somebody else’s day for an answered prayer.

I felt bad for the doctor because he was so upset for me. I just didn’t think it was appropriate to tell him this wasn’t the first time I had heard “impossible” coming from a doctor’s mouth, and it wasn’t going to be the last time either. As disappointing as it was knowing I wasn’t going to stop dialysis any time soon, I was at peace. It was as if God was in the room announcing, Don’t worry, I’m in charge here.

I wish I could say the same for life’s other disappointing and scary moments, but somehow when a doctor tells me impossible, I have to keep myself from smiling in his or her face. It is at that moment that I know Someone else is taking care of everything—even when dialysis must continue. But I keep learning, particularly with the kidneys, I’d rather have His choice for me than any old thing.

Have you ever had a perfect match situation only to watch it disappear? Sometimes what looks to be a perfect match will end up being the worst thing for you. I can only imagine that this is why we are told to “test the spirits” and to avoid falling victim to or only going after the things our “itching ears” want to hear.

Testing the spirits, however, is not the same as being paralyzed with fear or to be used as a tool to control others. Just like tissue typing is a tool to see if an organ is compatible for its new recipient to get on with living, so should we develop “spirit typing” skills in our lives.

Sure I missed out on my “perfect” match and had to endure dialysis a bit longer than I ever wanted to, but I finally got a kidney—oops, I mean, two kidneys. Yessirree, I’ve had two working kidneys in my body for almost 18 years. That’s the longest I’ve had two healthy, working kidneys in my body ever. I’d say waiting a little longer was worth it.

For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to right teaching. They will follow their own desires and will look for teachers who will tell them whatever they want to hear. 1 Timothy 4:3 (NLT)

Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world. 1 John 4:1 (NIV)