Where was God?

These kinds of journals and recollections often have a sacred component. The writer at some point, or perhaps throughout, expresses how he or she wouldn’t have made it through the harrowing life-threatening, life-affirming ordeal without the help of a higher power. But except for this particular entry, you’re not likely to find that here.

TODAY I am an active member of a church in Indianapolis. I love their style and can get behind what they believe in. This should be no surprise to any who knew me in my youth,* as I was quite active as a boy and teen in my hometown congregation.

15 YEARS AGO, I wasn’t going to church at all.

Drifting away from regular attendance was surprisingly easy, though I’ve been told that once on their own, young adults tend to let such things lapse. I was part of the “religious council” in my Army unit in Germany, but we never did any council meetings and it was mainly a way to get into “religious retreats” which turned out to be thinly disguised Alpine vacations.

During and after college, I was long out of the churchgoing habit and engaged-then-married to an atheist. After the divorce, I was with Gwen who wasn’t churchy either. Also, outside the small-town bubble, it was easier to see the rampant hypocrisy that evangelical Protestants are famous for. Did I really want to be part of that?

Then I got cancer.

If this was a message to “get right with the Lord,” it didn’t come through that way. A few months into my treatment, it did occur to me that I was losing some possible benefits of being in a church. If I had been, there would be the spiritual benefits – people praying for me, visiting, offering encouragement – and the more tangible benefits of fellow members bringing by food or taking up collections to help when money was tight.

Looking at it this way, it didn’t feel right for me to seek a church to join. It wouldn’t be that I had suddenly found religion, but that I was going to use these people for my own comfort. And that didn’t seem very Christian to me.

So, while I was hanging out with fans of Gothic pop culture -- some openly Pagan -- sleeping in on Sundays and going to chemo with nary a prayer upon my lips – was God there?

14 YEARS AGO, in May, Gwen and I went out for Cinco de Mayo at a local TexMex place in Fort Smith (where we lived at the time). I entered the restaurant’s drawing, and -- surprise! -- my name was drawn for $500 in free food. The prize was given to me as a stack of $20 gift certificates (this was in the days before the electronic gift card). I could use one for lunch or a bunch of them to treat my friends.

Within a month I was out of a job.

Over the next several months, as the job search grew more frustrating and finances grew slim, those certificates were a lifesaver. Sometimes we didn’t have enough money for groceries. Sometimes we were just too depressed to cook. Either way, I was incredibly grateful that we had them to help us get through those times.

Just lucky that I had that right when I needed it, right?

Consider also my good fortune that a year earlier, I had not only caught my cancer in an early stage, but also it happened at a time when I had a job with good insurance. I also had an unusual degree of work flexibility (more on this later). I managed to avoid complete bankruptcy, and came out of the ordeal still employed practically like I was before the diagnosis.

Some people would look at all that, and declare that someone was looking out for me.


- - - - -
*What kind of church I ended up in might be a surprise. But that’s beside the point here.

(NEXT)