Being alive

In October, when my mom was in the hospital recovering from surgery, I was driving home in the late afternoon. My goal was to beat any traffic congestion, but inexplicably, I hit some on the expressway near an interchange. As I crept forward, I could see it was an accident that was slowing things down. By the time I drove past, much of it must have been cleared. There was only a single car, in a middle lane, with ambulance workers at the driver's side door. As I drove past, I glanced over and saw a pool of blood flowing from under the car, towards the lane where I was driving. No matter how many action movies you have seen, I do not think you are ever prepared to see carnage and violence in real life.

My thoughts immediately went to the family of that driver. If the person in the accident survived, he or she would be facing extensive surgery, recovery time, and therapy. An ordeal like that accident changes your life and the lives of those immediately around you. Initially, friends and acquaintances are concerned, but that eventually falls away and it seems the world goes on without you and your family, while you plod through recovery.

At some point, I will lose my health, my family, my stuff. At some point in my life, I will only have Jesus. I will come to a place where only God can touch me. Jesus will be enough for me then, and He is enough for me now. I actually need Him, in all things, to give meaning: with my family, my stuff, my mom's cancer, the car accident I pass on the way home.

This year, I have been unable to be with my parents during the holiday, because Mom's immunity is compromised by the chemotherapy. She is going to beat this cancer, and I am so grateful for that, the holidays seem minor. We got our tree up eight days before Christmas. I completely forgot the Christmas mugs, and I haven't yet hung the stockings. But I am satisfied this Christmas.

I pray that you will enjoy what you do, this December and all year through. Brushing past death always makes me appreciate the joy of health, of life itself. Last night I arranged three colors of grapes and two kinds of cheese cubes on mini bamboo picks for a potluck my husband is having today. I am alive, I am healthy, I can create. The mug I drink my coffee from has no holly or bows, but Jesus is looking through my eyes and speaking to me, and life is good.