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There's Just Something About That Name - James K. Blomgren, M.D.

There I was, eight weeks into my first year at O.U. Medical School, thinking no one in the world could be in a better position in life than I was. I had everything I needed to be happy: a good future, enough money, a new life in a new town. But . . . what was this feeling I had deep inside that crept in at different times and kept bothering me more frequently as the days passed? Pretty soon I sensed something was really wrong because the feeling just wouldn't go away. It even kept me up at all hours of the night. What was the problem? Why was I feeling so empty and depressed?

Depression? Surely not. Not me. I'd never been depressed a day in my life. Here I was with everything going for me, so why did I feel like running away? Why all of a sudden did I not like myself or where I was in life? I asked my friends in medical school. They were all involved in what they were doing and didn't know why I was feeling so low. Nobody knew. Finally, the urge to get out and run away from the situation was just too great. I called the dean of the medical school at 7:30 in the morning and told him I needed a few days off to decide if I wanted to quit or to stay there.

I remember very little about the trip that day to my brother's house in Parsons, Kansas. I do remember wanting to turn around and go back several times. I must have changed my mind about whether to quit medical school or not four or five times while I was there. Then the night before I was to leave, my brother John asked me to go to a Bible study that some friends were having. I remember very little of what they were discussing because I was much too distressed with my own problem. After the study and several songs, the pianist began to play another song; only for some reason, this one was different. It was the prettiest song I had ever heard. After the introduction, we started singing the words, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. . . .there's just something about that name." By the tine I finished that line, my eyes were full of tears. But I didn't really notice the tears then, because I was paying attention to the burden that was being lifted from my shoulders. For the next two weeks, I still had some insecure feelings about my future. But whenever the doubts or feelings of depression would come, I would just begin to sing "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," and slowly the anxiety and depression would leave entirely.

Today, some years later, I can testify that Jesus is my Lord. He is my reality and He lives in me. He has changed my life in a way that I never dreamed was possible, and He has filled my daily living with purpose and joy. I'm as happy as can be! And yes--I did finish medical school.

Praise the Lord!


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