it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Signs from God

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: Signs from God: Once a month, I do my favorite thing for myself, I attend Pub Theology. It is great, drink beer and talk about God. Look, I would never r...

Signs from God

Once a month, I do my favorite thing for myself, I attend Pub Theology. It is great, drink beer and talk about God. Look, I would never run the Scripture category on an episode of Jeopardy, but I love a passionate discussion about God and Jesus.

  Just a few evenings ago, when I was at Pub Theology, the question was asked, " how do you feel God?" I quickly answered, "in Nature." Definitely my number one answer. And later, I wished I would have answered, "the signs He sends." Several times in my life, I have been overwhelmed Signs from God. Overwhelmed.

My most overwhelming moment took place after the "button's" accident. In 2017, shortly after we got the call that he had been shot walking to his car, in the back, I jumped on a plane to Colorado. When I got to my seat on the plane, there, under the light, was a blue Bic lighter. Right there, on the seat. It reminded me of the rose under the glass in Beauty and the Beast. Anyway, as odd as I thought this was, I mean seriously, a lighter could be a weapon, right? I picked the lighter up and put it in my pocket. I do not smoke but I took it.

Later that very day, I was told our son would never walk again and we needed to visit this rehab facility just a few miles away where he would learn to live as a paraplegic. In a few hours, our lives had changed so much.

I entered the facility with my eyes WIDE opened. This tour featured getting in and out of bed, sliding on the balance board and catheter care. The tour ended at the "game room" where "Michael" was having his sixteenth birthday party with his parents, grandparents and some friends. You could only see the back of Michael as he sat in his wheelchair. He only had use of this left hand pinky finger.  His left handed pinky finger was his only form of independence.

The tour guide related that  he had been sixty some days and had made huge strides recovery but had yet to speak.  We walked thru the game room trying hard not to disrupt the gathering but I could not help but look out of the corner of my eyes.  The parents were calm and collected, the grandparents were smiling and the his friends were upbeat. 

As we left the gardening room, they were about to light the candles and the mom said, "Oh my gosh, I don't have a lighter to light these candles."

I immediately reached into my pocket and yelled, seriously, I yelled, "I do, I do".  I was like a third grader when the teacher asked for a volunteer to pound the erasers, "I will, I will".

I reached over and handed the lighter and we stood and sang Happy Birthday to Michael.  All of us.  Loudly and with joy.  I know what his mom was thinking, "He is alive".

And when the song was over, Michael just sat there looking at all of us with tears in his eyes and he spoke through the little mic attached to his wheelchair, two words, but two big words, "Thank you."

There wasn't a dry eye in the house.  Not even from the two people who crashed his party.

But the tears were followed by an awkward silence when mom realized her 16 year old son could not blow out his candles.

So she grabbed his hand and did it for him while dad silently melted into a puddle.

Somewhere, there should be an unwritten rule that you should always be well enough to blow out your own candles.

Not a day has gone by since Michael's 16th, that I don't thank God for being able to walk and blow out my own candles.  I think about him and his parents every day and wonder how they are doing.

And I thank God for the lighter on my airplane seat.  Just that little blue Bic lighter (that is still in my purse today) and how that lighter took me out of the darkness and into the light.  It was there for me to take and  see it if I wanted too...and I did.  I learned to be strong and composed like Michael's mom and appreciated what I had and not what I didn't have.  Yes, the "button's" life was so altered but he could blow out his own candles.

God sent the sign, I saw the light.

Fast forward today...currently, I have three friends, two with the same name, one with a name that rhymes, that all have breast cancer and are in various states of their journey.  Cancer sucks.

And, another person, very, very near and dear to my heart has also started a journey with cancer.

On Friday, one of the breast cancer ladies called me.  She snooped on her portal and saw her latest results and lost it.  She wanted a smiley face sticker after months of chemo, radiation and surgery and she didn't get a smiley face sticker by her name.  She lost it.  She was mad, sad, angry and wanted to give up. She had a pity party and nobody was attending.  I felt for her.  We chatted and there were some tears shed and secrets revealed.  It was an authentic "female" moment and as honored she reached out to me.

I told her to have that pity party, she earned  it but she had to keep fighting.  It was worth it.  Fighting was worth it. 

And we talked about  "letting go and letting God".  Easy to say, hard to do.

Saturday, it was a beautiful day, (something we haven't had for awhile in ENC) and I text her.

Basically, the text said, "get up, get on your feet, get going cause you have Cancer to beat."

And closed with "Put it in God's hands."

 Before my  text to her, I had hung up with one of my children who seemed "a little off."  Nothing major, just off and one of those conversations where mom's just know, while nothing major is wrong, something little is wrong, the child isn't going to cough it anyway cause they want to work through it.

 Nothing like a home project to send you to Lowe's 7 times in one Saturday.  Without a shower, hair a mess and one of my fashion do's and don'ts outfits.  I pulled in and saw a couple walking in, she obviously also had cancer and I cried.  I am not sure why but I cried, the ugly car cry, sometimes for no "real" reason and sometimes for a reason but I cried.  Then, I pulled my list out of my purse, said "get your shit together girl and get moving."

I mastered my list and got to the check out  careful not to lift my head cause I did not want one person I knew to see me.

As I walked out with my bags, I noticed something shiny on the ground.  I juggled my bags and reached down and saw this on the floor.

Another overwhelming moment. Thank you God