A Plan B

Blue JayJust outside the front windows of our Illinois house was a small tree covered with blossoms. One April day years ago, we noticed a bird’s nest tucked in its branches, topped with a mama blue jay, so we began bird-watching from a nearby window, checking every day for babies.

Our cat Kennedy was also watching, and several times I saw her stretching tall from the back of the couch, paws on the window glass, peering out at the mother bird. She had no interest in eggs, though, only what was inside them.

KennedyKennedy had been a rescued kitten given to Hans on his 12th birthday and was puppy-like-friendly but morphed into a hunter every night. In the morning she’d arrive with a gift, a dead mouse, chipmunk, or small bunny dangling from her mouth. None of us liked this side of Kennedy but knew it was nature’s way.

Through the window, we worried about the baby blue jays but hoped their protective mama would keep Kennedy at bay. I remember the day the eggs hatched. We thought the cat was indoors while several of us were perched at the window watching, but suddenly she was there, at the tree.

Hans bolted out the door to grab her, but it was too late. She was already in the branches fighting with the mother blue jay. He raced to the garage and reappeared with a 2×4, shouting and swinging at his beloved pet, desperate to force her down. But within seconds it was all over, and Kennedy had had her way.

All of us were devastated, and my heart went out to the mama bird. She’d been faithful to her task, then was robbed of her reward. Although we were mad at Kennedy, we couldn’t blame her for doing what God had taught her to do.

Sometimes people-lives parallel that of the mama blue jay. We meet our responsibilities, work hard, and do the right things, but disaster strikes anyway. Money is diligently saved, then lost in a recession. A parent pours heart and soul into raising a child, who then turns against her/him. Someone leads a healthy lifestyle but gets sick anyway. A business is built on moral principles but goes bankrupt.

We can’t explain these misfortunes and wonder why bad things happen to good people, especially if “God is good.” But that’s where faith comes in. Do we really believe he’s good, and good to us? If so, we have to trust that even “bad” stuff has “good” purposes.

Bye bye mamaAfter Kennedy destroyed the mama blue jay’s future, I stayed at the window watching her. What would she do now? She sat on the porch railing nearby, focused on the tree, squawking intensely for about 5 minutes. Then she flew off in search of Plan B and never returned.

It’s often excruciating to surrender our A Plans. But when we’re ready, God’s B Plan is ready, too.

“The righteous… do not fear bad news; they confidently trust the Lord to care for them. They are confident and fearless and can face their foes triumphantly.” (Psalm 112:6-8)

Risky Business

MapWhen Mom was in her mid-80’s, she wanted to drive from Chicago around the south end of Lake Michigan to our summer home, staying as close to the water as possible. The rest of us doubted the efficacy of her idea, an old lady driving through dangerous neighborhoods for no important reason, but we knew Mom.

She was going to do it.

She asked if any of us wanted to accompany her, and although many of us said, “Sure!” there were always reasons why it wasn’t a good day. Then Mom got sick of waiting. She left her home in Wilmette, 25 miles north of Chicago, and threaded her way south along Sheridan Road, Lake Shore Drive and route 94, enjoying a lake view all the way.

When she got to Gary and Hammond, she had trouble staying close to the shoreline because of the steel mills but said she never lost sight of the water (questionable). She finished her drive to the Michigan cottage on routes 20 and 12, reaching her goal.

Naturally we lectured her after the fact, but half of her joy was in showing up the rest of us. When I asked if she’d been nervous anywhere along the way she said, “Be friendly to people, and they’ll be friendly to you.” Who knows what she encountered.

Dad was accurate when he said, “Your Ma is a risk-taker.” When it involved our children, however, we cringed, like the time she let our preschoolers drive her car by having them crawl under her feet and push the break and gas pedals with their hands. Or the time she sent two 2-year-olds to the beach unaccompanied. We found them playing in the lake.

Another time she took our 4 and 5 year old girls to Chicago’s Adler Planetarium. Once inside the building, she remembered their snack bags in her car.

“Grandma needs a rest, “she said, plunking down on a planetarium bench. “Here’s the car keys. Do you remember where we parked?” The two little girls headed down the wide steps and into a sea of cars parked in downtown Chicago in search of snack bags. I can’t even list the multiple risks she took in doing this, though as always, it worked out fine.

Mom leading the paradeRecently some friends and I talked about risk-taking in relation to aging. As the years pile up, most of us get cautious, eliminating risk wherever possible, but then without our realizing it, the world begins to shrink, along with many positives.

We agreed it’s a good idea to force ourselves to take at least minimal risks. We should keep driving in busy cities, going out after dark, trying new foods, meeting new people, traveling to faraway places. But how?

By factoring in God, trusting in his care. But will he come through if we’re risking too much? He wants us to walk in wisdom, which is usually somewhere between wild risk and none at all.

Amazingly, Mom’s risk-taking never got her in trouble. Maybe God assigned extra angels to “keep her in all her ways.” Although her risk management was sometimes foolish, taking no risks at all can be foolish, too.

“Moderation is better than muscle.” (Proverbs 16:32)

Life is for the Living

photo(1)On Monday of this week Mary endured her last chemo in a series 18 infusions stretching from early-May to mid-October. She is, as she says, “Glad to be done.” Here are her thoughts on this life-altering experience:

When I first learned I had pancreatic cancer last February, I thought I’d be long gone by summer. But here I am, having benefited from a delightful summer and now enjoying the beauty of fall. One thing cancer has taught me is how to fully live in-the-now. God has made hundreds of promises to us, but none guarantees a specific length of days, and though I vaguely knew that before my cancer, now I really get it. Letting go of my future has made me very grateful for today.

Some cancer patients say they feel like a walking time bomb. Others talk about a dark cloud hanging over their heads. My intention is to reject those negatives and find my identity in Christ rather than in cancer statistics or medical opinions.

In my case, surgery and chemo bought me some time, and time is precious. But none of the doctors can say I’m cured, nor have they given me a hope for that. As a matter of fact, the word they’ve used to describe my cancer is “vicious.” So I’m not in denial but am hoping to live somewhere between the extremes of denial and despair. I’m pretty sure that’s where God wants me to be.

Life is for the living, and I want to live each day well. As a result of my cancer, I’m holding tightly to four important principles that I knew before my diagnosis but have experienced in new ways since then. They’ll benefit me for the rest of my life, however long that is:

  1. God’s promises are powerful and true.
  2. God answers prayers.
  3. God provides exactly the strength and endurance needed.
  4. The community of believers is important.

Spending too much time alone isn’t good for any of us, and I’ve learned that the best kind of company is that of encouraging Christians who find their hope in the Lord. If I trust only in myself, my frame of mind quickly spirals downward.

One of my favorite verses is Ephesians 1:18: I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people. I’m thankful God considers me one of his “holy people” and that my inheritance is a glorious one.

Though I should continue making plans, I need to hold them lightly, remembering that life is a series of letting-go’s…. of the calendar, of our possessions, and of our favorite people. Cancer forced me to consider these things up close, and I’m thankful for that.

So, whatever happens from now on, I’m certain God won’t let me die till he says it’s time. And that’s good enough for me.

From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:2)