I left home a week ago. By the time I arrived, it felt surreal that I could possibly be on the other side of the world, ready to welcome a grandchild into our lives. I kept being surprised by Anne’s ready-to-pop belly.

News from home that first day added to the sense of surreal. Lizi called to tell me that the doctor had told her that she needed surgery for a “tumor”. Later in the conversation she added the word “suspicious.” I’d called the doctor’s office from the airport with my New Zealand number, but was unable to get in touch with him for the next three days. She had had a biopsy of her thyroid the day before I left and the doctor had promised to call me.

When I finally contacted him, he repeated the same story in a little more detail: The biopsied node showed cells that were suspicious for papillary cancer of the thyroid. He plans to go in and excise the nodule. A pathologist will look at it under the microscope while Lizi is still under anesthesia and if it is truly cancer, they will remove the whole thyroid. Although Lizi wanted to get the surgery done soon, he recommended waiting until we return in June so that she can be in the area for the six weeks following her surgery. He said it would be no problem to wait.

Not quite so surprisingly, Johnny had a crisis over the weekend with subsequent depression.

And today, Kellen fell off the monkey bars at the park and badly fractured his elbow. Laura was able to leave her two kids with a friend who had been at the park with her and rush him to the near by hospital, where he underwent surgery a few hours later. He is home now, recovering.

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Anne’s due date has come and gone—and no baby. We are living a bucolic life as farm girls (and loving it) waiting for the baby’s arrival. Every day I hike down and back the 1 km driveway, praying for my family. So far, we’ve made orange cake, butterhorns, apple-rhubarb crumble, and homemade caramel apples. Today we are making blueberry scones for morning tea at the ABS lodge. Anne has been gardening and setting up places for the baby. I’ve been knitting away! (I’ve already finished the welcome baby hat.)

 

I’m a strong believer in God’s timing and also a frequent questioner! I am often puzzled by how life throws so many curves at us, frequently with timing that seems crazy. This week I started wondering about my premise: is this timing thing really biblical or is it a modern-day conjecture? I keep hoping life will progress in a neat, linear fashion and when it doesn’t, wonder what God could be possibly up to?

The psalmist struggled with this (Psalm 31:15) and Jesus recognized that times and seasons have been fixed by the Father and aren’t for us to know (Acts 1:7.) Ecclesiastes contains the classic poetry,

To everything there is a season
and a time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to pluck up what has been planted;
A time to kill and a time to heal;
A time to break down and a time to build p;
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace and a time to refrain form embracing;
A time to seek and a time to lose;
A time to keep and a time to cast away;
A time to tear and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence and a time to speak;
A time to love and a time to hate
A time for war and a time for peace.

(Okay, admit it. Turn, Turn, Turn is going through your head.)

But my favorite is verse 11:

“He has made everything beautiful in his time.”

I think we will always be puzzled by this concept, but it is good to know that God is over all the details of our life, that our times are truly in his hands. Even when I question God’s timing I am content to know and trust that He is the God who sees me (Genesis 16:13) and the God who works everything together for good (Romans 8:28.)