A friend has been diagnosed with esophageal cancer. A church member’s daughter has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Another friend is in remission with non-Hodgkin’s disease. Someone you know has cancer.

Cancer is an insidious disease. With all the brilliant minds in medicine, I continue to wonder why we haven’t found the cure or the ability to eradicate cancer from human experience.

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I wonder what Jesus would do if he found himself at the bus shuttle stop at Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport having just flown in from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., and his ATM card was declined, he only had $15 in cash, and the bus fare to South Bend, Ind., was $35. Would he turn a newspaper into dollars? Would he say to the ATM, “In my name, dollars come out”? Or might he ask someone in the shuttle terminal for some money and explain his situation?

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The Tag Office wasn’t crowded. That was the first thing that caught me by surprise. I always expect to have to wait. But not this day.

Renewing tags on three cars. Picking up the new personalized plates. The clerk was pleasant. I completed my task and was out of there within 20 minutes. Wow. And, the clerk was friendly, knowledgeable and loved what she was doing. Her enthusiasm for her job and life in general was contagious.

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The other day, I attended a meeting at The United Methodist Church of the Resurrection in Kansas City. Two staff members along with an elder from Eastminster attended with me. We met with several staff members and key lay leaders of Church of the Resurrection. It was our first meeting and it was powerfully significant.

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Moderating meetings is an art. To keep people focused on the matter being discussed and ultimately on the bigger issue of the mission of the organization demands skills that are innate and learned. And so my life, a series of meetings, conversations and contexts that require “moderating” demand of me the abilities of listening to and directing the conversation in order to advance the bigger mission which should be driving the conversation.

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Words are powerful. They can change things. For example, when I am discouraged and someone encourages me with their words, my outlook changes. I bet the same is true for you.

The Bible is filled with words. And all of the words in the Word are for our benefit. God’s words change things. The Bible says that nothing is impossible for those who believe in Jesus. The words in the Bible are hope for the hopeless and friend to the friendless.

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Weeds are a curious thing. Like many of you, I work hard to maintain my yard. I really like a green lawn that is lush and thick. I also like flowerbeds that are well manicured, and although there is a hedgerow out back, I really like it to be maintained as well. And, no matter how hard I work at it, both with my time and the appropriate use of fertilizers and weed retardants, weeds still appear. It is so aggravating. From a dormant fertilizer and weed repellant to four seasonal applications of weed “killers,” weeds are the gift that keeps on giving.

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The breakfast gathering was early, but that was okay. I’m an early riser. Normally I eat a light breakfast of fruit and cereal after a workout, but the plan needed to be reordered.

I parked the car on Douglas in front of INTRUST. It was 6:25 and the gathering started in 20 minutes. Century II Exhibition Hall was filling. I quickly went through the buffet line and headed to table 41, where I met the folks I had invited.

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The intersection was gridlocked at 21st and Webb. Two cars were involved in a serious accident. It was clear that one turned in the front of the other. Glass everywhere. Windshields busted through and crushed metal the norm. I wondered, as I finally made it through the intersection, if the occupants survived. Oh, so scary. Oh, so not necessary. At least I thought.

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Janet’s parents have been with us the past week. What a tremendous joy to be with them and see the impact of their lives on Janet.

Evie and Don did so many things right. They taught Janet and her siblings their heritage and instilled in them the importance of passing it on. When I reflect on my relationship with Janet the past 33 years, 31 of them married, I see her parents’ imprint everywhere.

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