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 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.
Praying for Mary.
Hi Margaret
I had safe travels to Austin and am getting settled in I’m not really entirely sure why Im here – yes I am happy to spend time with my daughter and her family but I have felt there is a reason God wants me here that I don’t know yet so here I am.
I lost my sister Kathy two years ago from lung cancer. My heart goes out to you because it’s something I will never get over and I miss her dearly. I had a similar experience to yours. While Abigail and I were sitting and praying very deeply for her when she first got sick God said to me “I want her”. I knew at that point whether she lived or died that she was in his hands and it did comfort me however even though she was told by her doctors she probably had three months it turned out to be two long years of suffering for the whole family before she passed.
I prayed often that whatever lessons God wanted us to learn we were learning in obedience to him.
I will pray for comfort ang guidance for your sister and you and your family in this difficult time.
God Bless you
I am praying for acceptance of God’s perfect plan. And praying for great times of love and true joy between all your family members.
Praying for Mary and for all of you.
Praying for Mary and for you.
I’m thankful the Father is not bound by the clock – was just able to read this, and so I prayed. He is always good – and I’m trusting Him, as I know you are, for His perfect and good will for all of you.
Praying for you, Mary, and all your family .