 Our first kayaking trip There really are no words to express how special Cindy was. The world really could use more special people like Cindy. While she was smart, creative and fun, her stellar qualities were her thoughtfulness, grace, and kindness. She loved unconditionally and without judgement. I was so blessed by her friendship. So long, friend. See you on the other side. 
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 Recreation of the event On New Year’s Eve Day, I woke up to see a note on my computer. Mike had stayed up into the wee hours to shovel snow. It had snowed heavily and he cleared our walks and some of the neighbor’s as well. It was well intentioned, but it had continued to snow and his work was covered up. The note read that he would need sympathy when he got up because in the process of clearing walks, he had lost his keys.
I sat down to check my email, feeling very sorry for his plight and thinking of the hassle of replacing all his keys, hoping some nefarious person didn’t find them and try all the doors in the neighborhood until they found ours. As I surfed the internet, a thought popped into my head that I should go and look for the keys. I know the source of that voice and said aloud, “Seriously? That’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. It’s cold outside, I don’t wanna.” But God has a way of nudging you in a friendly way saying, “Come on. What do you have to lose?” “Warmth and comfort,” I muttered as I got my coat. I bundled up. I decided if I was going to go out looking for this key ring, I’d clear off the walk again. It was still snowing but seemed to be slowing down. “Look in the street by the truck.” “In a minute. I’m going to clear off Becky’s ramp.” “They aren’t on the ramp.” “They might be.” They weren’t. “Look in the street by the truck.” “In a minute. I’m going to clear off the walk and meet the new neighbor.” Introduced myself to Steve and cleared off our front sidewalk. The keys weren’t there. “Look in the street by the truck.” Sigh. There was about four inches of snow on the street, and cars had been through. If they were in the street they could have been smooshed or dragged. I trudged toward the truck looking at all the ruts and lumps in the snow. “There. Brush the snow off that lump.” So I took my shovel and brushed aside the snow off one particular lump and there they were. Two feet away from the truck and one inch away from the tire ruts. Cold, wet, and otherwise unaffected. Glory to God. He took me on a treasure hunt to end the old year and begin the new. A great start to the day and a mystery. I pray all the time for a lot of people. I pray for my nation as it descends into anger and violence. I pray for healing, provision, children, and my family. I’ve prayed for my friend to be healed and the answer, apparently, is no. So many things that need a divine touch, and He helps me find Mike’s keys. I have no profound answers as to why. I’ve mulled it over from time to time and eventually have to throw up my hands and give into the mystery that is God. He is intensely personal. I’ve experienced that many times. He’s very powerful. I’ve experienced supernatural healing and other things that cannot be explained. Yet, I’ve also experienced deep disappointments with God. There are different theological explanations that work to explain why things happen or don’t happen the way they do but often it’s just an attempt to put God in a box to perform and that’s something He steadfastly refuses to do. I often tell people I’m comfortable with the mystery that is God. To some degree I am. The key incident does not stand alone in silly yet fruitful interactions I have with Him. And yet, as I watch my dear, dear friend dying the mystery does not rest easy in my heart. Still, I will praise Him and thank Him for the keys. |
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July 2021
Donna KemperDonna Kemper put aside her art career to care for a mother she hadn't seen in over a decade. For seven years she followed her mother's journey into dementia, caring for her and putting forgiveness into action. Categories
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