Today I drove 26 miles to the nearest shopping mall to run several errands. On the way home (about an hour later than I’d anticipated), God had something to say.

I was rounding a gentle curve on a busy expressway when a flash of color filled my rear view mirror: a spectacular sunset-in-progress. Brilliant orange slashed with aqua and gold made me look as long (and as often) as I dared while moving at 75 mph.

As I drove, the dramatic colors widened in all directions, lighting up half the sky, and I craned my neck to see the show for real rather than just in the mirror. But road-swerve persuaded me to try for a phone picture instead.

Putting the driver’s window down, I held out my phone, pointing behind me, but other than blurred pictures of other cars and trucks, I got nothing.

The sunset continued to develop, and I grew sad thinking it might fade before I could get a good look. I picked up speed, racing for home and the beach where a wide-angle view would make for great photos. Just as I arrived, though, the light show abruptly ended and the sky went grey. I was crushed.

That’s when God spoke. “Margaret, how could you feel crushed after the extravagant gift I just gave you? I arranged for you to spend precisely enough time in the stores to end up on the road exactly in time to see that amazing sunset, so why are you whining?”

My response was, “Because I didn’t get to see it fully, the way I wanted to, or take pictures to study later. Why couldn’t it have lasted a little longer?”

None of this impressed God, and what he said next was difficult to hear.

“That sunset you were trying to hold onto isn’t the only impossible thing you’re trying to do. The other has to do with your sister Mary. Tomorrow she gets her first scan since chemo ended, a scan that’s going to hunt for cancer. Your hope for good results is rooted in a desire to hold onto her, but you can’t do that any more than you could hold that sunset.

“Every sunset belongs to Me, and Mary belongs to Me, too. Whether she gets good or bad news tomorrow, your response should be to confidently trust Me and My decisions about her life. Please remember that I’m holding onto her in a way you never could, so take courage from knowing that.”

But letting go of a sunset is one thing; letting go of Mary is something else entirely.

“Lean not on your own understanding but in all your ways acknowledge him…” Proverbs 3:5-6

Praying with Mary

Tomorrow, the 11^th, is my post-chemo scan. Please pray for peace of mind and for complete acceptance of God’s perfect plan, both in my body and in my heart.