quiet_waters

It is 7:15 in Katy, TX. Water from the Jacuzzi is gently flowing through the overflow into the larger pool. There is a gentle breeze, and the sun is playing a little hide and seek with some clouds. Quietness reigns.

God is found in the quiet. As I sit here amidst this beautiful setting, I am reminded that God is here. He has never left. Not since the first day of diagnosis. Not through all of the rounds of chemo. Not in every passing moment of loneliness. I still have the peace that He gave on October 17, at 10:30 in the am. There, lying in a bed in the emergency room in Slidell, LA. “It will be OK. Call your wife. God is in control.” That was the voice that came through the curtain in that room. That was the wave that washed over me, cleansing me, calming me. That was the hope that all will be well, and all is well. God was found there.

For many years of my life, in many circumstances, and on every level, I always would ask of my God, Why? Why live here? Why have this job? Why go through this or that? God, I need a blueprint for what is to come if you expect me to get onto your plan. Age took some of this away, so did having a family as the why question was being lived out right in front of me through my children. But the question always remained in my way of thinking. I always knew God to be capable, just wanted to know His reasons for things – as they pertained to me.

God never gave up on me, and laid me down in order to finally show me Himself. In a hospital. Through a voice. With an insensitive doctor. With pain. ‘Why’ was not part of the answer. It was not even in the room. What was there was God Himself. Enveloping, surrounding, filling every void, every crack, every pore of my being with peace. These words are extremely inadequate to share what that room became. It was like a window into His presence, a glimpse of what is to come, a sharing of His nature with me. Though my surroundings this am are built by His hand, there has never been a more beautiful place than that ER room in Slidell, LA because God was there.

Since that moment that was filled with eternity, the question of why has not been a part of the landscape of my life. In human terms, it has been, short of death, the hardest thing that anyone should have to go through. But is has also been the easiest that I have ever gone through. Why you may ask? God is here. With me. Right now. Ever-­‐present. Filling every pore of my being. Loving me in a way that cannot be described. I now understand what Paul spoke of when he said what God said to him: “My Grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.”

This offering is there for all who call on His name. Cancer does not matter, nor does it have any bearing. There is no problem that cannot be handled. I asked a question for most of my adult life, and God chose to answer it with suffering. But what he also answered me with was Himself. I will never be the same person, and if suffering keeps me on my back before Him, then so be it. “When I am weak, Then I am strong.” Thank you my Lord for the hint of what is to come with knowing You. Thank you for the Peace that truly does pass any of my understanding. Thank you for the quiet, and that You are always there, always loving, providing me with nothing but You, which is all that I need. I love You.

It is now 2:50 on Friday. Spent the majority of the day at MD Anderson, and met with all of my physicians here. It is quiet again. News was delivered, and it is settling in. As of today, I am clear of the cancer that has been my companion since last October. I am in recession. There is a 20-­‐30% chance of reoccurrence, and I need to go through checks every three months for the next two years. But no more chemo, no more treatments, just healing. Doc shared that would be about another three months to return to normal.

Every day, every moment, every breath is a gift. ‘Why’ is no longer relevant to life. There is just the air, the quiet, the stillness – I am with Him now. I always will be. Find the quiet, and you will find My God. Thank you for the quiet waters. Thank you for the peace. Thank you for the faithfulness of my every breath. I love you.

by Kevin Smith

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