[Dear readers, I’ve wanted to share this story with you and was asked to lead devotions last week (for a team of economic development experts), so I’m sharing that version and apply some lessons for all of us below that…]

“In the Bleak Mid-70’s.” …In the middle of December, that’s how it felt to me. It was Christmas season, but I was lying on the couch with the stomach flu, and my beloved Janet, my compassionate caregiver for 50 years, was no longer there to worry and nurse me back to health. At one point while on the toilet I started to feel faint, so I ambled onto the floor before I’d fall and crack my head. As I lay there, my fever turning into a cold sweat, I thought of how much my life had changed in just the 100 days since Janet’s death. I was too sick to have a pity party, but it was certainly a low point. 

From Monday through Thursday, it was the same. I couldn’t shake the stomach bug and I had to keep cancelling every engagement that might otherwise raise my spirits. For four days it was gorgeous outside, sunny and mid-70’s, but I barely left our winter-dark condo. I re-read much of Janet’s collection of personal stories; I watched the recording of Janet’s memorial; I was fully surrounded by hundreds of reminders of her spirit, her love exuding from all around. It was heartwarming, and it was heartbreaking. A new low in my grief journey; the long-expected “other shoe” had dropped.

More than  once, I ran across advice Janet had adopted as her own: “Until you can let go of what will no longer be, and truly mourn it, you cannot embrace the future God may have for you.” Those words worked on me, and in me. Finally, on the fifth morning I had recovered enough to meet friends for coffee and enjoy the sunshine. Before heading out, I heard a devotional that asked, “What do you need to lay aside in order for God to take center stage in your life? In what ways are you not living out the dignity God designed you for?” I stopped and wrote in my journal:

I need to lay aside fixation on what I no longer have— Janet. She was never my possession, instead my companion for some portion of each of our lives’ journeys. But “she was never mine to keep”. She is God’s. My loss of Janet cannot take center stage forever.  That is not what I’m designed for nor put on earth by God for. Janet herself would disapprove. I need to mourn fully, but not fulltime, and not forever.

I realized that I was mourning not only the loss of Janet, but also the loss of the life I had anticipated when I retired–a life that revolved around our marriage and relationship together. The life that I–that we–had anticipated only truly made sense within that context, and without that I began to realize: I’m simply going through the motions. As painful as it is to admit, a life with Janet is no longer available to me; it’s not an option. Yet I’m still alive, which means I’m accountable to being a steward of my time, gifts and skills. Accountable to God and owing this to Janet’s legacy.

With my grief still being so fresh, I had just enough bandwidth to recognize this truth, though not enough to proactively do anything about it. Swallowing this pill was enough for now.

However, just two hours later I learned the tragic news that a friend and former collaborator had just died. This World Vision supporter and former Silicon Valley executive had co-created some software that helps many of the world’s poorest people start and operate Savings Groups, saving their own meager sums and lending each other a few dollars each week, providing these groups vastly improved accountability and transparency.

I’ve long been keenly interested in Savings Groups and had recruited the funding for World Vision’s first pilot two decades ago, now a program used around the world. And I had initially connected this start-up company to World Vision leaders and watched their engagement with great interest. It’s a vital technology now used by World Vision and several similar organizations globally.

First I thought about this dear man and his dream for helping the poorest; then empathized with what his widow must be going through. Then I wondered what would happen to the software. I didn’t know how viable the company was long-term, but if the business were to fail, well over 100,000 of the world’s poorest people would be negatively affected, and millions more would lose access in the future.

Then I wondered if, given my experience and background, there was anything I could do anything to be of help. I must admit, it felt like a nudge from the Holy Spirit.  But I also didn’t trust myself: I wondered if this might just be a desperate attempt to distract myself from more painful grieving. So I talked to a few friends and colleagues over the weekend; all were very encouraging. On Monday night I reached out via email to the other cofounder, whom I had met only a couple of times. He remembered me fondly and was quite enthused; he drove 30 miles in the rain to meet me for dinner that Wednesday evening. I learned then that not only was this startup not financially viable, but they’d be out of cash in less than 30 days. They’d already decided they couldn’t keep running the company, so he was beginning to talk to a few nonprofits in order to donate it in hopes that the vision could continue in a stable environment where it might yet reach massive scale. He’d actually talked with World Vision’s microfinance arm VisionFund earlier that day, and they were his top choice. He said, “I think they were intrigued but I don’t think they understand the urgency: I need an answer before Christmas!” And this was now December 20; Friday the 22nd was the final workday before the holiday! It sounded impossible, but we brainstormed some bridging ideas.

After a half-dozen conversations and conference calls Thursday and Friday morning, I was honored to be able to help each side think creatively on how to make this happen in a mutually beneficial way. To everyone’s amazement, by midday Friday an agreement was struck providing bridge funding and a period of due diligence with the right of first refusal. If consummated, not only can the product continue but with World Vision’s huge reach it can scale much faster than ever before, truly realizing the founders’ dreams of massive impact.

What a privilege it was to have this opportunity to serve as trusted advisor to both sides, and what incredible timing in light of my devotional that very morning! 

I don’t know what future God may have for me, but I know it won’t be the one Janet and I were anticipating 6 months ago at my retirement parties. But this episode was an incredible gift from God to remind me that there is still Kingdom work for me to do. Yes, I may attend more symphony concerts or become a hospital volunteer or sing in a choir, but God’s invitation and nudge seemed to be saying “Don’t ignore what’s right in the sweet-spot of your unique experience and expertise. Your life isn’t over, and neither is your usefulness… if you’ll pay attention to my invitations. It may take you in a very different direction than the trajectory you thought you were on, but I have a future and a hope for you. Be at peace, and pay attention. Open your hands and your heart.’ Jeremiah 29:11 was always one of Janet’s favorites: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'”

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I know this story is very unique to me and my situation, but paying attention to God’s invitation and God’s agenda is what we are all called to do. VisionFund and World Vision had to pay attention–and quickly–in order to snag this unexpected opportunity. I think I helped them, but they had to do it… and they did!

They had actually made a different decision a year ago on a similar topic, which was very likely the best decision at the time. But just like in my personal situation, things changed! Former realities no longer existed and fresh, decisive thinking was required.

Let’s face it: this is often how the Kingdom of God operates. We don’t know the end from the beginning. We can’t. That’s the role of the Master Builder; we are simply God’s workers. [See Prophets of a Future Not Our Own]

We can’t know the end from the beginning. We don’t like that. Agenda Trenda prefers to have his path all planned and set out in front of him. Planning is important and useful. But in the card game of life, the King is wild; God’s plan is the trump card… “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.

We need to keep planning; keep making sound decisions based on current realities. But sometime in this new year your reality may change, new opportunities may appear that aren’t in your plans. So we hold our plans with open hands, as an offering, while we pay attention to nudges from God about God’s plans. How many divine invitations do we miss because we’re not paying attention or because they don’t fit into our plans? I’m so glad I paid attention to the nudge that Friday morning.

For your reflection, let me close with a beautiful new Christmas song which explores this same theme, about a shepherd wondering at the meaning of the Christmas star and whether to keep doing what’s expected or to follow its call… “Star of Wonder”

Cory

Jan 2024