Unexpected

October, 2007

Picking strawberries in October? In Michigan? How unexpected! More ripen near the south side of our property, unaware that November approaches. Along the driveway six Shasta Daisies decide to go a second round. Defiant. Delightful. Unexpected.

And then there’s the rosebush. Purchased late, on sale, already weary of its plastic pot, I didn’t expect it would make it. The only reason for this acquisition was the name—Evelyn. When my grandma died in April, a friend gave me a certificate to a greenhouse, requesting I choose a perennial to remind me of her—Grandma Evelyn Boss. (Some of you didn’t know Mrs. Boss was my grandma? Unexpected?)

The rosebush remained in the pot for a month or two, waiting for Purple Coneflowers to be transplanted and free up space below the 1950’s gas light. By the time Evelyn Rose was lowered into the soil, it was late August. She wasn’t well. Blackspot, another friend explained. We removed all the leaves, including several that had fallen to the ground. Next we pruned her. I didn’t expect much from the stripped bush—only hoped she would revive next spring.

But tiny shoots emerged. Green. Lush. Full. A bud. A blossom. An unexpected, marvelous fragrance. Such October surprises!

My natural world mirrors my spiritual world.

A couple months ago the Wednesday night prayer group interceded on behalf of Von Vruggink’s friend, Lee Pipe. Part of the group prayed at church; part of the group prayed at Kent Community Hospital. Lee dozed in and out, unable to communicate—and not just due to the tracheotomy. She wasn’t well. The next day she worsened and was transferred to another hospital. So when Von reports Lee recognized her and is walking, well . . . I wasn’t expecting that.

When Pastor Bill Putnam prayed over Juanita Westerbeek, struggling for weeks with fatigue and muscle aches, and the very next day she energetically hauled her kids to the zoo, well . . . I wasn’t expecting that.

At Community CRC when Pastor Bill asked anyone who had contemplated suicide in the past year to come forward for prayer, I didn’t expect three precious women to take that courageous step.

When Pastor Bill asked me how he could pray, and I replied, “For the next season,” I didn’t expect a torrent of tears to release.

So I ask myself, “Why am I consistently surprised? Where’s my faith? My confidence?” Enough of these surprises! Enough of the unexpected!

I’m readying for the expected. For healing. For miracles. For signs and wonders. Didn’t Jesus say we would do even more than he? I hear reports of resurrections in Mozambique (Rolland and Heidi Baker). Can you believe it?

I expect the reports are true.

And now, I’m going to pick an October strawberry . . . or maybe an Evelyn Rose.