I just returned from a high school basketball game.  I was running late because I’d stopped by moms and I almost talked myself out of going.  I rationalized.  First of all I am a Reese and “late” is a part of our vocabulary.  They will understand.  Second, I was only going to miss a small portion of the 1st quarter, not a big deal.

Entered into the gym.  Paid my $6.00. Located my family and proceeded to sit down.  Once I was in place, I leaned back to ask my Aunt how my Uncle was feeling.  Pointing  left of the bleachers at ground level she said, “There he is.”  Sure enough sitting in a chair, watching the game there he was.  My heart did a little leap and I had to fight to keep the tears away. I always think if I let the tears free fall then I’ll cause someone else to do the same. I guess it really wouldn’t have mattered.  They would’ve been happy tears.

My uncle has terminal colon cancer.  He was diagnosed a little less than a year ago.  He received chemo for a short period of time, until the doctors said there was really nothing more that they could do to help him.  The tumor in his colon is inoperable and unfortunately other vital organs are also being ravaged by the beast.

A few months ago, I went to visit him and quite honestly, I really didn’t expect to see him again, and most certainly not at a basketball game.  The day I visited he was basically bedridden and light bothered his eyes.  He was thin and gaunt.  In fact, he told me that day, “You know medically speaking, I probably won’t be here much longer.  But who’s to say? Only God knows.”

For the next few weeks I anticipated a call…you know the one…it never happened.  Thanksgiving came and went.  No call.  Christmas came and went.  No call.  Of course, I’d been keeping up with him through cousins and I knew he was doing some better, eating more, gaining some weight back, nothing short of a miracle.  But never in a million years did I expect to walk into the basketball game tonight to see him sitting watching his youngest grandson play basketball.

His grandson is a senior this year.  This game was the first game he had been to all season. In fact, it’s the first game he’s felt like coming to this season. A playoff game and quite possibly the last time he will see his grandson play basketball.

A few things I will take away from this moment.  Firstly, I am thankful I didn’t let myself talk myself out of going.  I’m thankful I had that urge to go. (I do believe that God gives you these urges but it’s our responsibility to listen.)  Secondly, while statistics are just numbers and God knows the exact time and place when he will call us home.  Finally, I just believe that our God is a God of miracles.  Miracles aren’t necessarily the ones that come through complete physical healing but come by way of allowing a grandfather, who medically speaking should not here, the opportunity to watch his grandson play one more time.

It was a priceless moment and the best $6.00 I’ve ever spent.

Thank you God for reminding me that You are a God of miracles both small and large.

A little song came to mind as I finished writing:

“I believe in miracles, I’ve seen a soul set free  Miraculous the change in one redeemed through Calvary.  I’ve seen the lily push it’s way up through the stubborn sod.  I believe in miracles for I believe in God.” John Peterson

 

 

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