What's going to change?

In July, I was sitting in Kristina’s hospital room with our three adult children and Philip’s wife, Moriah. We were all still stunned by Kristina’s heart stopping three times and the subsequent miracle the Lord did to restore her life. Her life support tubes had been removed and Kristina was able to sit up in bed in the ICU and talk. We were just starting to relax when our daughter Kathryn asked us a question.

“So, after all that has happened, how is this going to affect your marriage?”

I’ve been thinking about Kathryn’s question ever since. Kristina was hospitalized for two weeks, home for a few days, and then returned to the hospital for four more days, as she fought infections caused by twelve days in CardiacICU. Since then, she has been gaining strength daily. She can now walk over a mile, work around the house, and do her IT job at Living Streams. She looks healthy, and apart from her stamina, her life has returned to normal. We even argue once again. Yet, our relationship has changed.
 
The biggest change, from my perspective, is a deeper thankfulness in my heart. There was darkness in my soul when I thought Kristina was going to die. Now her presence gives me a sense of resurrection grace. Our time together is a gift from God. The more we love, the deeper our grief is when those we love die. Yet, our love for one another, whether in family or friendships, is one of the greatest sources of God’s blessings. Recognizing how short and precious life is helps us cherish our relationships.
    
We were still basking in the sense of God’s blessing after Kristina’s healing when we got the news that someone else in our family is battling a brutal disease. It’s human nature to wonder why some of us are vulnerable to diseases while others stay healthy. When we push ourselves too hard, we break down at our weakest link. Some people have their backs go out, others have emotional breakdowns, and some people’s immune systems malfunction. I’ve had all three problems at one time or another. This makes me compassionate as a counselor, but testifies that I learn many things the hard way.
    
For the past twenty years, I have been meeting each month with a group of local pastors. We take a couple of hours to share our lives and give counsel and encouragement to each other. Each of us has faced major challenges over the years, and our fellowship has been a great resource. When we met this month, we shared stories from our summer adventures and trials. I gave them details of Kristina’s healing and thanked them for their prayers.
    
When I was finished, Leonard Griffin, the pastor of Covenant of Grace Church, shared this story with our group. He and his wife Sharon went on a cross country trip this summer. They stopped at Big Meadow Reservoir in Colorado to camp and fish. When the fishing slowed down one afternoon, Leonard decided to take a walk around the perimeter of the lake. He walked along a tree-lined trail, meditating on the beauty of God’s creation. Since they had been traveling for a few weeks, Leonard had not been praying in the disciplined way he usually does at home. But he was full of gratitude to God, so he opened his heart and asked, “Lord is there anything you want to say to me?”
    
Within two seconds, a big glob of bird poop hit Leonard’s shoulder and arm. He was shocked and wondered, “What does this mean? What have I done?”
    
He raised his eyes towards heaven and immediately saw the Lord in a vision. Jesus had a big grin on his face as He spoke to Leonard. “Just kidding. Everything is just fine.”
    
We all laughed as Leonard told us his story, yet it really spoke to me. Every now and then stinky stuff can seemingly fall out of the sky and drop a mess on us. That doesn’t mean the Lord is angry with us. It doesn’t mean that we have done something wrong. Stuff dropping into our lives is not a random accident, but it may reveal what is in our hearts. We need to be secure in the love God has revealed to us in Christ. Jesus promised to be with us always. God’s love never fails, and His truth never changes.