Take Care

I’ve been dipping my feet into my new service and area for the past several months, but it wasn’t until a week ago when I took the full plunge. The first few days were a whirlwind of excitement and activities, but as the week tapered off, I was able to find some quietness and attend mass in the mornings. It was invigorating and it allowed me to re-align my heart each day, and what a blessing it was to begin my day with the Eucharist, even before breakfast!

Wednesday was my first morning mass in Oakville. After it ended, I gently walked out of the chapel and into the main Church. The lights were off and only the sunlight was shining in. The last time I had knelt here was during the first year of my MV shout and my prayers then were certainly different from how they are now. God had somehow known that it would take me this long to finally dive in and move… I know that You knew. I kneeled there and I chose to lay it all before Him again. Lord, I know that what awaits me is greater than all I am leaving behind. And in the silence of my heart, He knew what I was asking. I didn’t even have to say it, but He knew. I will take care of your family, He said. And with that I slowly rose, wiping the tears that had somehow sprung onto my cheek.

That night, I had a long conversation with my mum via Facebook chat and text. She told me that my dad hasn’t been able to sleep because he’s been worried about me, and he’s anxious about my move. I told her, “I’ve been praying a lot and all God keeps telling me is to trust Him… no one can take better care of you guys than Him.”

Fast forward a few days to Saturday – the CFC 20 Years Gala. (Oh, by the way, to provide some context, my family lives in Ottawa, which is 5 or so hours from Toronto/Hamilton, my new and current service area.)

We had arrived at the banquet hall early Saturday morning, and throughout the day, I was eagerly checking my phone in anticipation for my parents’ call. They had left Ottawa very early and were going to make it just in time for lunch. I was helping put up the set design, and because it was a larger task than we had initially anticipated, I had to forego lunch with my family but asked them to drop by anyway so I can see them. When my phone rang and the message, “We’re here” flashed on the screen, I literally jumped up and ran outside. My parents were stretching and lit up when they saw me. After giving my family hugs, I looked up at the car and asked, “Where’s the van?”
“It couldn’t make the long drive down.”
“Oh…” I was a little confused because our van isn’t old and has driven extremely long distances without fail.
“It’s getting fixed,” my mom replied.
“Wait, what? Why is it getting fixed?”
“Dad got into an accident.”
In my mind, since my dad was before me, I figured the car got knicked or scratched, or maybe we got rear-ended again like last year.
“What happened?” My parents looked uneasy.
“We didn’t want to scare you because you were here… but dad got hit last week by a drunk driver.” My mind began reeling and everything thereafter seemed to be accompanied by loud buzzing. The van, in fact, was not getting fixed… it had gotten completely totalled.

From the pieces I can put together from this, and consequent conversations, basically, Wednesday night/early Thursday morning my dad was going home from his sister’s house in the suburbs (Barrhaven), and on the way home a driver collided with him, almost head on. My dad’s cousin, my aunt, was driving behind him and the incoming driver then swerved and hit her afterwards, but it was my dad who took most of the blow. The roads from my house and my aunt’s are surrounded by farmland and are generally poorly lit. From what my aunt saw, she says that our car flew over the ditch on the side of the road and landed straight into the adjacent field. The paramedics said he just missed a tree by two feet.

There are so many “what ifs” with this situation. What if my dad had panicked and pressed on his breaks rather than sped up? What if he fell into the ditch? What if he had hit the tree? All these things were flying through my mind, but the only thing that became increasingly evident was God’s providence in the entire ordeal. What if, what if, what if… But after every what if, the only answer is: Praise God, it didn’t.

I said it to my mum earlier that night, and it has only become clearer. No one can take better care of my family than He who gave them to me. No amount of savings, no amount of working, no amount of time, not of any of that… He can take better care of them than I ever could.

Take care of what matters to God, and He will take care of what matters to you.

 

….
P.S.
Father, thank You.