She learned she needed to let go and trust God with her daughter’s life. 

“Really?” was my husband’s comment. The Oxford Dictionary defines deserve as “do something or have or show qualities worthy of (reward or punishment).”  What qualities do we possess that make us worthy of a sunny weekend?  What great act have we done to merit such a reward? “I’m glad God doesn’t give us what we really deserve,” my husband continued. 

This week is April Fools’ Day, the only day of the year, some have noted, when it’s ok to pull pranks and practical jokes. It seems many countries and cultures have a similar tradition of a day dedicated to hoaxes and mischief, not necessarily occurring on April 1. I used to love to try to fool people on April first each year, but when I married, I discovered that not everyone liked the day. I suspect my husband may have been the object of some nasty jokes as a child, as he never found the day humorous.

Many years ago, I quit my job because of significant stressors arising from said job. I felt really guilty, as a lot of training and education went into my attaining this job. I really did not think God wanted me to quit, but I was so depressed and stressed that I hated going to work to a job I once loved, (some parts of which I still loved). I had prayed and prayed and saw no clear answer over the course of several years. Then one day, my “Ananias” called to ask how I was. I burst out crying on the phone, as I had had a particularly difficult and complicated night the evening before. I told my friend I needed a “mental health day.” Wisely, she asked me to explain what I meant by that. I told her how unhappy I was, how much I had prayed about quitting or staying, and how I did not hear a clear answer either way from God. My friend’s sage advice, prompted by the Holy Spirit, I am sure, was “Sometimes you have to take the first step in faith and see where God leads.”

For Christmas last year, my niece gave her parents a gift of discovering their ancestry through DNA testing. My brother and I laughed when he told me this, as our father was a first-generation American, his father coming from Germany and his mother from a German village in Switzerland. Our mother was second-generation American, all her grandparents having emigrated from Germany. Big surprise: the test showed my brother is 99+ percent German. This got me to thinking of my spiritual heritage…

My sister tells the story of meeting a Hollywood actor and producer in a little semi-rural town in PA. A gentleman approached her for assistance and she blurted out, “You’re Mark Harmon!”

“Well, yes I am,” he countered. “And you are…?”

“Me? Oh, I’m nobody!” replied my sister.