God is always faithful, always at work in the lives of his
children. Sometimes we stray from His will and plan for us, but we are never out
of His care. If Jesus loves us enough to die for us, then He loves us enough to
take care of us. He always, always knows where we’re at and what we’re facing.
While shopping this morning for half price Easter candy –
admit it, we love to get a bargain on chocolate – I ran into an old friend,
Jim. I met him and his family at church years ago. Their two daughters became
friends with my daughters. His wife, Inge, and I became friends. The unique
thing about them is that in addition to their two daughters and son, they always
had several foster children.
Over the course of time, they adopted one of the foster
girls, then within a few years, they adopted another foster child, a boy of
different racial background. And they continued to be foster parents.
Inge has suffered with different ailments over the years, a
brain tumor, and kidney failure. My daughters and I have stayed in contact with
their daughters via Facebook. Last week Inge had a kidney transplant. The
miraculous thing is the baby boy they adopted twenty seven years ago was a
match, not any of her biological children. A decision years ago to change the
life of one child by giving him a permanent family has had an impact this
family never imagined. But God knew.
Last week Inge’s daughter and son stopped by to buy my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon for Inge to read
while recuperating. When I saw Jim in Fry’s store this morning, I inquired how
Inge and their son are doing. Among other things, he said, “Inge loves your
book. So you’ve become a writer. That’s great.”
Had he stopped at, “Inge loves your book,” it would’ve been
an encouragement. But, in the midst of his own storm with both a wife and son
recovering from major surgery and the vigil to see if Inge’s body accepts this
kidney, Jim began to speak life into my heart and spirit – about my writing and
life in general.
Standing next to tables of marked-down Easter candy in a
busy grocery store, tears sprang to my eyes. It felt like Jesus was breathing encouragement
to my troubled spirit. You see, I have an alcoholic son. He has managed to
destroy everyone and everything in his life. Whenever his name shows on my
phone, I groan. He is so messed up and mixed up, it’s heart-wrenching for me to
have any contact with him.
