Holding on Tight

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.

Mary“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 11th, 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.

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)