I recently visited my two-year old granddaughter in Philadelphia. When I arrived, she welcomed me at the door with a joyful grin and arms ready for a big hug. Not long after I entered her house, she talked about how I had come for a visit but would have to return to the “Chandler house” at some point. Neither of us was looking forward to that parting. “I go with you?,” she asked.

The day or two before my departure, my daughter and I started talking about the fact that I was going to leave soon.

“I have to go back to the Chandler house, sweet girl,” I told Pea.

“I need you, MiMi” she replied.

“Oh, I need you too,” I whispered back.

This unprompted confession made my heart swell. I still hear those words and feel the feels.

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A Broken Body

In early June of 2020, I found out some exceedingly difficult news and it has taken me a while to adjust. To help you better understand why this news was so difficult, let me first give you some back story.

In early 2017, not sure of the exact month, I noticed slight changes in my body movements, or should I say the lack of body movements. I began having problems with my ring finger and middle finger on my left hand not working. I called it locking up. I also started noticing a tightness in my left foot, but it was random and not every day but happened more and more over time.

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When I was growing up, my mother often told me,

Dee, you are not gifted, you are just a hard worker.

Over time, this definition of me has burrowed its way deep into my being. I have lived with it for a lifetime. I tend to ruminate on it, making it a measuring stick for my value as a person.

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Choices.

One past Sunday our worship team was practicing before church, and as I was listening to the songs, a definite theme emerged—God is good. Well, we know that, but do we believe it? The team was singing “King of My Heart” in a medley with “Good, Good Father,” and finishing with that old chorus, “God is so Good.”

So what was the point our worship leader was trying to make?

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I got an interesting text from my daughter this morning. First of all, I rejoice that my adult children choose to communicate with me (truly, I do!). Second of all, I was surprised by what she wrote. She texted during our online sermon during which her aunt, my sister, shared some of her story.

I was preaching on “Dancing With the Scars: No Regrets” and my sister shared how she had a life-changing moment with God.

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