by Kat Silverglate ©2024

We’d never really experienced a family like this one. They were different. Completely different. I suppose with any family one would expect to learn the characters over time. Their quirks and habits. Ways and gifts. The unspoken group dynamic.

We learned quickly that this collective wasn’t going to give us time. They were going to skip the learning curve and treat us as if we were blood right from the get go. Our crash course in family culture involved a rather personal issue. They’d invited us to something so when we politely declined, the exchange went something like this:

US:           “We have an unexpected surgery tomorrow. Sports injury. All is well.”

THEM:     “What time?”

US:           “What do you mean? For the surgery?”

THEM:     “Yes, what time can we pick you up to drive you to the hospital?”

US:           “No worries. We’re leaving here at 4:30 AM. We’re covered. Thanks.”

THEM:     “What time is the surgery? We’ll pray.”

US:           “6 am. Thank you for your prayers. Really, we’re good.”

It was a lovely gesture, we thought. Just lovely. 

The next morning at 0-dark-thirty, we loaded our bleary-eyed selves into the car to drive the three short miles to the hospital. As we were leaving the front gate of our development, we saw a car across the street with its lights on. When the gate lifted and we started to make the turn toward the hospital, they started to furiously flash their headlights and honk their horn.

It was odd. Nobody was out and about at this hour. At first we thought maybe we left something on the roof of the car or maybe we forgot to turn on our lights? Or maybe they were in some kind of trouble and needed help? 

We were, of course, entirely too tired to connect the dots to the conversation the day before. When the driver started to follow us and then pull parallel to our car, we could finally see that it was a member of the family we recently met. The church family we were getting to know. It was the pastor -- Win Green -- up in the middle of the night to show that love is a verb with skin. He was there to give us cover when we didn’t quite know how to receive it. We were good at holding our own umbrellas in stormy times. But to allow others to do so? That was hard for us.

That moment nearly 25 years ago came full circle last week at MD Anderson cancer center. There for my little sister’s breast cancer surgery, I went searching for a quiet corner to do some work while I waited for the call that she was in recovery. Rounding a corner at the end of a long hall, I found this verse from 1 John 4:7 bathed in sunlight from the adjacent window.

It was like that morning in the car stunned by the cover we felt from a man flashing his car lights like a maniac just so we would know we weren’t alone.

Now God seemed to be flashing His glorious light through this sign.

But it didn't end there. The whole light thing was followed by an unexpected horn. Packing up my stuff to return to the surgery desk, I heard my name. It was Mason Dorsey, another pastor from that same church. There for his own cancer treatment, he came to the surgery wing to pray with me. To offer cover. To live love as a verb with skin.

Just as we embraced, a blaring horn started to sound. A fire alarm. Right in the middle of my sister’s surgery. Mason and I stood in stunned silence while large fire doors closed off the surgical area. When the alarm stopped, Mason filled the silence with prayer. Prayer covering and physical presence. Living his knowledge of God with his very life.

Our July Responsiveness Challenge:

Hebrews 12 speaks of the great cloud of witnesses that surround us. The forecast in the family of faith is always partly cloudy with a chance of more cloud cover because we are surrounded by a family that is called to love as Jesus loved. We are called to live love as a verb with skin... which means we must allow others to hold our umbrella at times. To cover us with the love of God.

In your mission pack you have a strip of paper with clouds and several transparent sticky notes. On the strip, consider listing the people who have provided cover recently. Spend some time thanking God for your cloud cover. Who has shed the light of Christ in the darkness? Shared a story of how God provided? Prayed? Made a meal? Called and checked in? Driven you? Held your hand?

Consider taking the transparent cloud notes and sending them to three of those folks. Perhaps words like: “You are part of my cloud. Thank you for covering me!” Anything that will celebrate the could coverage the Lord offers through others.

Important Note: Many find it easier to cover than to be covered. Is that you? How might we use this responsiveness challenge to grow?

Amen? Amen!