Ordinary Faith

It was almost Easter weekend, and I packed my overnight bag for the six-hour road trip to visit my son Alex at college. I counted down the days, no, the hours, until I would see him and hug the heck out of him, even if I had to reach up to do so. Blended with my excitement, though, was my apprehension about his faith. I knew Alex wasn’t attending a church regularly, but have continued praying that he would connect with God somehow out there in college land.  

Several weeks prior, it occurred to me I could ask Alex to attend church with me when I was visiting. It would be Easter weekend, after all, and my request would be reasonable. Right? I wanted to let God be in charge of Alex but felt I needed to give God, and Alex, a little help. Eventually, I sensed God telling me to relax. I wanted to attend the service, and decided to do so even if I’d be going to church without Alex. So, I asked Alex to find us a church service to attend and waited for his response.

Nothing.

Come on, God, I thought. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. Should I look up a service myself? I need some kind of a sign. Do you hear me, God?

I like numbers, and one way I’ve learned to notice God’s presence in the numbers. Whenever I see either of these three times on an ordinary digital clock: 1:11, 11:11, or 3:33, I think of God and His three-in-one existence, and how He really is number One above all things. Those times are a little eye-wink from God to me, reminding me of His presence.

Finally, as I checked over my bag on the night before my road trip, I received a text from Alex sending me a link to a church he found for us to attend that Sunday. Excitedly, I clicked on the link to find out more—the service location, time, and the church information.

He found a contemporary Christian service geared towards college students, held in a nearby college building. It sounded similar to the services Alex used to attend with us at home. The location was less than a mile from his dorm. It was an ordinary service and seemed perfect for our needs.

However, there was nothing ordinary about the time of the church service. I had to reread the information on the church’s website.

It was slated to start at 11:11.

Easter was extra special this year.

 

 

How about you? Can you share a time God shown up in YOUR ordinary experiences?

 

Mistress Cancer

Unwelcome, she takes energy away from our marital intimacy. She requires my husband’s time and attention. She penetrates through to his veins, taking over his body, inside and out. She has her own rules, statistics and the illusion of a plan. She flirts with unpredictability, her greatest strength, her source of passion. She calls on my husband any time of day or night. Sometimes, he ignores her. Sometimes, he can’t.

She is Cancer.

 
This mistress is a Life-changer, a Killer, and an Enemy.

It was April 1, 2011 when my husband was diagnosed. I was shocked. We thought it was something related to reflux or other gastro-whatever conditions he experienced. But tumors? They were not expected.

I went into survival mode. Learning whatever I could about what was going on. Tests, more tests, research, doctor’s appointments. Planning for treatments, impact on our family, our financials. How do you plan what you do not know?

It’s now five years later and Joe is stable under the treatment of a clinical trial. Basically, it means he is on a chemotherapy regimen which seems to be working to stabilize the cancer, which will never be gone. Never. Yes, I know miracles are possible, and yes, I’ll embrace anyone who joins me in prayer for the miracles. In the meantime, however, I live with her.

I want her gone. Can I forgive her? Can I let go?

She is cancer. She is simply a diagnosis.

I am Lisa, Joe’s Wife. Holding on to hope in this complicated life.